Tygra's Diary: Blank Pages
I don't know anymore. That's all I can say since everything that's happened. What I do know is that I shouldn't let these feelings swallow me whole like this but every where I turn there they are just waiting for me. I hide them from my father, Leira, Grune and the old cleric's leader, but I bet if they look deep down or even in my eyes they'll see a cub shaking in fear. I just don't know whether to hide it or let it consume me, burn me and eventually waste me.
I sometimes miss the old times where I had no home, no problems and no demons. I do remember the pain of trudging everyday and people pointing at me laughing or whispering. "What filth" they would say, "If Leo were here, tigers would not" all their whispers had hurt me, but right now they were the things I truly missed. Since now the people respect me but only because if I say anything or Grune, Panthro or Claudus overhear someone talking ill of me, then they'll be arrested or punished. It's all fake; that's why I rather be in the world, the life I used to have and know.
The council, Jaga, high ranked people look at me with angry disappointment; like I'm not the way they wanted me to be. Claudus does too even if he doesn't know it, I see the way he looks at me with that 'You could be so much more, much better if you were just like this...' look. How can I be what they want me to be when I can barely be myself? Do this, do that, be this, act like that- they want to shape me into the 'perfect' son, prince, being. There's no such thing as perfect, and I've known since the day I was born. So why do they want me to be perfect? Worthy? And just like them? I'd rather stab Grune's mace through my chest than be a spoiled rich cub, like Xynol, who wanted everything and more.
I'm not like them, I'm my own person but why do I hate what I see in the mirror? Why do my eyes turn away in shame and at times disgust when I see myself? Should anyone be ashamed or hate themselves like I do? At times I wonder if it's a disease with no cure. It is after all self hate-or is it something more, something that's hidden deep within me? I know my reflection cries every time I turn away from him, I end up crying too when his cries have long faded. I kill him. I kill myself. But that's what you do when you hate yourself, right?
The mirror shows everything and it never lies or hides. It is the thing that shines light to the darkest of places or unwinds the tangle of lies. That's probably why I can't stand them; they show me things I don't ever want to see. It shows the happy me, the me that would've existed but never did. That's probably why he reaches out to me at times and cries when I refuse to reach back. He wants to infect me with that possible joy, that fake hope that everybody holds onto. I've held hope and joy in my palm but it always crawls away. I hate him and myself yet he keeps trying to reach out to me, that's why I'm so disgusted and turn away in the end, every time.
Innocence. That's a word that's left me and my heart since the day I was born a bastard and eventually orphaned cub. Abuser and whore. Those are the two words that describe and are my parents. Even if it was dream that's what my 'cousin' said my parents were; his abusive father and a tiger whore. If I ever met them or even saw them I would rake my claws into their faces and then rip their damn hearts out. What I feel towards them is beyond hate, is beyond something a child should ever feel towards their parents.
I sit resting my wrists on my knees watching the trees struggle from the weight of the piling snow. There's no sun out, but the snow illuminates everything in pure white. With every breath I take the vapor appears. There was no one else just me, on this lonely hill top. It was my hidden paradise outside of the city walls.
I sometimes wandered if these walls were truly my home or if my true place was far from here. Maybe I was supposed to born in Egybtio or Wolf country and maybe I wasn't supposed to be born cat maybe I would've been born vulture or shark. Cats may be at the top of the chain, but-at times I feel different almost savage like the things below us. When I walk through the busy streets people move out of the way, saying that my eyes are too hard and cold to belong to a boy. Too bad that they didn't know their words kept feeding my urge to run. Where was my true place? I'll probably never know.
Chills run up my spine, that's how I know he's here. Even if my stomach is full, it always growls and howls in hunger when he makes his presence known. I wanna say I hate him, but I can't since I was the one who let him stay and chose him to plague me than the hissing voices. He's basically my addiction with a face and voice, but the form he chose gets under my skin and tears my insides out. He has me like a puppet with guilt and shame high over me then he makes me dance and scurry after the drug while he laughs. I don't wanna be a puppet, I don't wanna have the guilt and I don't wanna have a puppet master. It's all about obsession, addiction and not being able to control it. If I became numb and no longer cared, no longer felt guilt would he go away?
I stand and head back the way I came since this 'walk' only brought more worries and questions than answers. I can hear the snow crunch loudly with every step I take.
This world I now live in is fake. No one has a true face or say, they just hide behind a mask and behind words they force out. I hoped to have a real family but instead I found more rejection and hate. Isabella was afraid to love me, a tiger, the brother turned away when he found out who I truly was, Leira hates me but tries not to for Claudus, and Jaga doesn't see me fit to be prince because of my 'horrid disease'; addiction. I tried to be accepted and now that I am, it's all surreal.
The void tells me to not struggle anymore and accept it, but I guess I'm trying to be what they want me to be...and not addicted. But at the same time I want to break away from them and be nothing like them. So far I'm breaking further and further away from them.
My old life is more real and less menacing than this one...
~~~~Pages~~~~
By: Three Doors Down
What happens to a man when he spills his heart over a page
And he watches words float away then
His feelings lie on a page alone
There waiting for someone who cares to read them
To open their eyes to see them
To see if they can make his thoughts their own
To find out that maybe your life's not perfect
Maybe it's not worth what he gives away
You can see that this broken soul is bleeding
So you can see your feelings inside yourself
And wonder through my heart
Letting you see through me now only consumes me
Forget your pain and watch me fall apart
What happens to a soul when he's trapped inside his emotions
And all of these words he's spoken
They bind him to the life he's left behind
And every new step he takes
He knows that he might not make it
To all of these dreams that he has yet to find
Maybe your life's not perfect
Or maybe it's not worth what he gives away
You can see that this broken soul is bleeding
So you can see your feelings inside yourself
And wonder through my heart
Letting you see through me now only consumes me
Forget your pain and watch me fall apart
As I fall apart
You can see that this broken soul is bleeding
So you can see your feelings inside yourself
And wonder through my heart
Letting you see through me now only consumes me
Forget your pain and watch me fall apart
As I fall apart
A/N: Yea! Early update!
This is another 'Diary' thing where Tygra basically says what's he feeling towards everything and anything.
Umm... he was taking a walk, just in case you didn't know, lol!:)