All the characters represented herein are not owned by the author.
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As I lay here, staring at the ceiling, I can do nothing but relive every painful experience in my short life. Nothing can keep my mind off of the pain of the cats' claws tearing into my flesh, or the disappointed face of my father after he found out that I would no longer be able to speak, or the more recent looks of disgust and unbridled hatred for me that were turned toward me after Akane or whoever told the entire school about my disfigurement, and how the first chance I had to start over in so many years was flushed down the toilet, just like everything else I try for, and the horrible feeling I got when those thugs tried to rape me, and the debilitating disgust in the pit of my stomach I had when I realized that I actually WANTED them to rape me, because it would have meant that someone actually thought I was attractive.if only I weren't restrained, I would be able to take my life. It's the only suitable thing I can think to do with it at this point. There's really nothing left for me.
That last thought actually doesn't make sense. It assumes that there was something for me in the first place, which is obviously false. I was made to suffer, and I can't seem to beat fate by taking my own life and ending the perpetual cycle of tears and hatred that it has become.
Crickets chirp outside my window.
Tears slide down my face, unhindered by the grotesque grimace on my face as I bite my tongue, trying to open a wound so that I might bleed to death.
There it goes. I can feel the small piece of flesh slide down my throat.
The blood is pooling in my mouth, now. Maybe I could drown, if I don't swallow. Oh, please, just let me succeed, either way.
Of course not. Tofu comes in to check on me. And he freaks out, naturally.
Now I've not only got bandages in my mouth (like that should really matter to me anyway; I can't speak), but I've got restraints on my jaws. I can't even try to reopen the wound.
I guess that's my lot in life. I'm made to suffer.
The crickets keep on chirping. They go on with their lives, cheerfully giving music to the sleeping world, their own brand of harmony - a harmony of dissonance, if I listen intently enough. The multiple pitches clash and bounce off of one another, creating a kind of horribly beautiful music that captivates my very soul. Lord, I want to be that. I want to be that haunting melody, that accidental coming together of separate notes to form a disgustingly wonderful cacophony, appreciated by nothing but the still night air.
Why am I not asleep? In the more impermanent sense, I mean. I should be sleeping right now. I'm tired - of life, to be sure, but I was referring to the physical fatigue I'm feeling from trying to break the bonds that bind me to the bed. Heh. I just alliterated without even trying. Or something like that. Fuck, I hate myself.
A nagging memory at the back of my mind plagues me. What was it that I so desperately need to remember, but for which have no use?
Akane. She's a nice girl. She hates me, to be sure, but she's a nice girl. If I were to have a girlfriend, I'd want someone like her.
Bullshit. That's just the loneliness talking. She's attractive, definitely, but she's too temper mental and unstable for me. I'd want someone like Ms. Kasumi. She's sweet, caring, and would make me feel like I had value.
But then again, isn't that a sin in and of itself? Coveting something you know you don't deserve? I thought the Christians had something like that they weren't supposed to do. Either way, though, I know I shouldn't wish for something like that. I don't deserve something like that. I don't deserve someone like Kasumi at all. Shit, I don't deserve anyone.
That God damn melody keeps weaseling its way back into my forebrain. The crickets just keep on hammering away at their little instruments, or whatever, not caring that I am lying in this bed right now, evaluating my life and my mind, wishing for someone or something to come along and destroy me once and for all.
Why can't I have a sense of purpose like that? Why can't I be driven to do something so forcefully that I don't care who or what ignores or criticizes me, but keep on going just to get it done? Why is that?
Perhaps because the gods want me to suffer? Geez, I say that a lot.
Do the gods want anyone else to suffer like I have? Do they want more than just me to go through their lives, hating and fearing everyone and everything, just waiting for the sweet embrace of death, the eternal darkness that promises an end to the barbs of living? Or am I the only one?
I guess that's kind of like asking whether or not there is life on other planets. There are far too many people - or planets, depending on which question you're answering - out there to think that only one is that way. But you don't want to believe it, because you're self-centered and arrogant. You want to be the only one of something, and you just can't bear to accept even the most remote possibility that someone else, somewhere out there, is the same as you.
Or perhaps you're searching for that sameness with such an earnest need that you're afraid of what you might find, and therefore reject it.
Or perhaps you're a freak in a hospital bed with far too much on his mind for the middle of the fucking night.
But is loneliness the paramount of human existence? It sure seems like it to me.
Shit. I can't handle this.
I can't handle anything.
But.is anyone else like that? Is anyone else out there going through the same things I am? Is anyone else looking for just a little bit of kindness to prove that they're at least human enough to deserve to live?
I hate myself so much. But I love those damned crickets.
If there is anyone else out there like me, I want to meet him. I want to make him believe that he is worth something, that he deserves love and kindness just as much as the next person. Because I don't want someone going through the same kind of shit I am right now. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy.
So maybe that's my purpose in life.? Is that what I should do? Should I stop trying to beat life, and just start trying to improve it?
Damn it. In that case - if life is all about helping others - why is everyone so mean to me? Why does everyone hate me so much?
It's all about perspective. I remember hearing that, once.
Maybe they're not being mean to me, but it's just my perspective that makes it seem that way.
Maybe I need a frontal lobotomy.
Maybe those crickets should cut a CD deal.
Any way you cut it, though, I need to stop pissing and moaning about my life. Maybe I should even go to sleep. I should most definitely go about trying to figure out my lot in life - if I even have one - but that comes after I get out of this damned hospital. Fucking.damn restraints. I can't even scratch my wounds. They itch like the dickens!
Sleep it is, then. Followed by some major-league role-searching by one Ranma Saotome. And maybe a snack or two. I'm kind of hungry.
As I drift off to sleep, I realize somewhere in the back of my mind that I haven't thought about suicide for a while.
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I wrote this for two reasons. First off, I thought that it was necessary to get more of a glimpse into Ranma's mind. I will probably be doing this with other characters, as well, as the story progresses. (Yes, Nabiki will most likely be next. I understand that a lot of people are unclear on Nabiki's intentions and mental state, and to be honest, so am I. So I WILL be delving deeply into that which is Nabiki, and I'll most likely be just as surprised as you all to see what I find.) Secondly, I really needed something to get me back in the mood for writing. I've been kind of...lazy...for a while, and I needed to get something out to my readers (if I have any left) so that they wouldn't come to my house and lynch me. This was that which would ultimately let me continue work on chapter 5 of To Know Pain. (I'm gonna blame these past two weeks of inactivity on the fact that I had my tonsils out and have been unable to eat or talk or function in society. It has been the most painful experience in recent memory. I would rather blow my knee out AGAIN than go through another tonsillectomy. Never, EVER do it, if you haven't already made that horrible mistake. I literally didn't eat for three days. Lost ten pounds in a WEEK, which sux0rz, and I'm just now starting to eat regularly again. KILL DOCTORS!!! ...or not. Whatever. Geez, I'm just rambling, now. So how are you? Good? That's nice. I'm glad to hear that. So how's da kidz? Still juvenile delinquents? Good, good. I'm happy for you.)
Heh. I'm funny.
...LOOKING!!!! OOOH! WHAT?
...Anyway, I'm listening to Yoko Kanno's beautiful work on the Escaflowne movie sountrack right now. She 0\/\/nz0rz, m4n. Sh3 r0x0rz my b0x0rz. j00 |\|33d t0 s|\|4g d47 s0|_||\|d7r4c|, d|_|d3z.
Okay, so that's my little experiment with l337-talk. Gomen.
But, yeah. I suggest that soundtrack, especially if you're writing or reading a drama, or something. It's relaxing. Some other good stuff that she's done and that I recommend are the Macross Plus soundtrack and the Cowboy Bebop soundtracks. They 0w|\|z0r.
So...yeah. It's late, but not late enough, so I'm gonna go write some more on the next chapter, 'kay? Hope to have it out soon. And by soon I mean within one or two months. ::Ducks behind desk::
...~A Depraved Sociopath with Psychotic Tendencies?
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As I lay here, staring at the ceiling, I can do nothing but relive every painful experience in my short life. Nothing can keep my mind off of the pain of the cats' claws tearing into my flesh, or the disappointed face of my father after he found out that I would no longer be able to speak, or the more recent looks of disgust and unbridled hatred for me that were turned toward me after Akane or whoever told the entire school about my disfigurement, and how the first chance I had to start over in so many years was flushed down the toilet, just like everything else I try for, and the horrible feeling I got when those thugs tried to rape me, and the debilitating disgust in the pit of my stomach I had when I realized that I actually WANTED them to rape me, because it would have meant that someone actually thought I was attractive.if only I weren't restrained, I would be able to take my life. It's the only suitable thing I can think to do with it at this point. There's really nothing left for me.
That last thought actually doesn't make sense. It assumes that there was something for me in the first place, which is obviously false. I was made to suffer, and I can't seem to beat fate by taking my own life and ending the perpetual cycle of tears and hatred that it has become.
Crickets chirp outside my window.
Tears slide down my face, unhindered by the grotesque grimace on my face as I bite my tongue, trying to open a wound so that I might bleed to death.
There it goes. I can feel the small piece of flesh slide down my throat.
The blood is pooling in my mouth, now. Maybe I could drown, if I don't swallow. Oh, please, just let me succeed, either way.
Of course not. Tofu comes in to check on me. And he freaks out, naturally.
Now I've not only got bandages in my mouth (like that should really matter to me anyway; I can't speak), but I've got restraints on my jaws. I can't even try to reopen the wound.
I guess that's my lot in life. I'm made to suffer.
The crickets keep on chirping. They go on with their lives, cheerfully giving music to the sleeping world, their own brand of harmony - a harmony of dissonance, if I listen intently enough. The multiple pitches clash and bounce off of one another, creating a kind of horribly beautiful music that captivates my very soul. Lord, I want to be that. I want to be that haunting melody, that accidental coming together of separate notes to form a disgustingly wonderful cacophony, appreciated by nothing but the still night air.
Why am I not asleep? In the more impermanent sense, I mean. I should be sleeping right now. I'm tired - of life, to be sure, but I was referring to the physical fatigue I'm feeling from trying to break the bonds that bind me to the bed. Heh. I just alliterated without even trying. Or something like that. Fuck, I hate myself.
A nagging memory at the back of my mind plagues me. What was it that I so desperately need to remember, but for which have no use?
Akane. She's a nice girl. She hates me, to be sure, but she's a nice girl. If I were to have a girlfriend, I'd want someone like her.
Bullshit. That's just the loneliness talking. She's attractive, definitely, but she's too temper mental and unstable for me. I'd want someone like Ms. Kasumi. She's sweet, caring, and would make me feel like I had value.
But then again, isn't that a sin in and of itself? Coveting something you know you don't deserve? I thought the Christians had something like that they weren't supposed to do. Either way, though, I know I shouldn't wish for something like that. I don't deserve something like that. I don't deserve someone like Kasumi at all. Shit, I don't deserve anyone.
That God damn melody keeps weaseling its way back into my forebrain. The crickets just keep on hammering away at their little instruments, or whatever, not caring that I am lying in this bed right now, evaluating my life and my mind, wishing for someone or something to come along and destroy me once and for all.
Why can't I have a sense of purpose like that? Why can't I be driven to do something so forcefully that I don't care who or what ignores or criticizes me, but keep on going just to get it done? Why is that?
Perhaps because the gods want me to suffer? Geez, I say that a lot.
Do the gods want anyone else to suffer like I have? Do they want more than just me to go through their lives, hating and fearing everyone and everything, just waiting for the sweet embrace of death, the eternal darkness that promises an end to the barbs of living? Or am I the only one?
I guess that's kind of like asking whether or not there is life on other planets. There are far too many people - or planets, depending on which question you're answering - out there to think that only one is that way. But you don't want to believe it, because you're self-centered and arrogant. You want to be the only one of something, and you just can't bear to accept even the most remote possibility that someone else, somewhere out there, is the same as you.
Or perhaps you're searching for that sameness with such an earnest need that you're afraid of what you might find, and therefore reject it.
Or perhaps you're a freak in a hospital bed with far too much on his mind for the middle of the fucking night.
But is loneliness the paramount of human existence? It sure seems like it to me.
Shit. I can't handle this.
I can't handle anything.
But.is anyone else like that? Is anyone else out there going through the same things I am? Is anyone else looking for just a little bit of kindness to prove that they're at least human enough to deserve to live?
I hate myself so much. But I love those damned crickets.
If there is anyone else out there like me, I want to meet him. I want to make him believe that he is worth something, that he deserves love and kindness just as much as the next person. Because I don't want someone going through the same kind of shit I am right now. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy.
So maybe that's my purpose in life.? Is that what I should do? Should I stop trying to beat life, and just start trying to improve it?
Damn it. In that case - if life is all about helping others - why is everyone so mean to me? Why does everyone hate me so much?
It's all about perspective. I remember hearing that, once.
Maybe they're not being mean to me, but it's just my perspective that makes it seem that way.
Maybe I need a frontal lobotomy.
Maybe those crickets should cut a CD deal.
Any way you cut it, though, I need to stop pissing and moaning about my life. Maybe I should even go to sleep. I should most definitely go about trying to figure out my lot in life - if I even have one - but that comes after I get out of this damned hospital. Fucking.damn restraints. I can't even scratch my wounds. They itch like the dickens!
Sleep it is, then. Followed by some major-league role-searching by one Ranma Saotome. And maybe a snack or two. I'm kind of hungry.
As I drift off to sleep, I realize somewhere in the back of my mind that I haven't thought about suicide for a while.
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I wrote this for two reasons. First off, I thought that it was necessary to get more of a glimpse into Ranma's mind. I will probably be doing this with other characters, as well, as the story progresses. (Yes, Nabiki will most likely be next. I understand that a lot of people are unclear on Nabiki's intentions and mental state, and to be honest, so am I. So I WILL be delving deeply into that which is Nabiki, and I'll most likely be just as surprised as you all to see what I find.) Secondly, I really needed something to get me back in the mood for writing. I've been kind of...lazy...for a while, and I needed to get something out to my readers (if I have any left) so that they wouldn't come to my house and lynch me. This was that which would ultimately let me continue work on chapter 5 of To Know Pain. (I'm gonna blame these past two weeks of inactivity on the fact that I had my tonsils out and have been unable to eat or talk or function in society. It has been the most painful experience in recent memory. I would rather blow my knee out AGAIN than go through another tonsillectomy. Never, EVER do it, if you haven't already made that horrible mistake. I literally didn't eat for three days. Lost ten pounds in a WEEK, which sux0rz, and I'm just now starting to eat regularly again. KILL DOCTORS!!! ...or not. Whatever. Geez, I'm just rambling, now. So how are you? Good? That's nice. I'm glad to hear that. So how's da kidz? Still juvenile delinquents? Good, good. I'm happy for you.)
Heh. I'm funny.
...LOOKING!!!! OOOH! WHAT?
...Anyway, I'm listening to Yoko Kanno's beautiful work on the Escaflowne movie sountrack right now. She 0\/\/nz0rz, m4n. Sh3 r0x0rz my b0x0rz. j00 |\|33d t0 s|\|4g d47 s0|_||\|d7r4c|, d|_|d3z.
Okay, so that's my little experiment with l337-talk. Gomen.
But, yeah. I suggest that soundtrack, especially if you're writing or reading a drama, or something. It's relaxing. Some other good stuff that she's done and that I recommend are the Macross Plus soundtrack and the Cowboy Bebop soundtracks. They 0w|\|z0r.
So...yeah. It's late, but not late enough, so I'm gonna go write some more on the next chapter, 'kay? Hope to have it out soon. And by soon I mean within one or two months. ::Ducks behind desk::
...~A Depraved Sociopath with Psychotic Tendencies?