**TRIGGER WARNING**
Okay guys I literally have no idea if this would be triggering or not but if you are triggered by suicidal/near death experiences of your own causing, please be forewarned that this chapter contains self-harm.
Doc code 1278803-4576b
-mindlink initiated-
Entry 21-
This day could not have gone worse. Sprocking grife I am still coming to terms with everything that I have learned so far and if it were up to me I would just curl up in a corner and cover myself with a large fluffy blanket in an attempt to hide from these painful revelations and the world at large.
I have activated the mindlink because the doors to the lab just slid shut and the intruder alarm is currently blaring. I expect…visitors…soon. I do not know who exactly activated the alarm, or why, but I expect I will soon be facing my ancestor and nemesis, Brainiac. I have made efforts to calm myself, mostly through the (likely not-recommended) method of drugging myself with a powerful sedative. I would have used something more mild, but I was… panicking. Not in my right mind. I am likely still not in my right mind, but at least I only have about half of my thought tracks currently running in dizzy panicked circles, rather than all of them. I feel a profound sense of calm that can only be the result of blissful unawareness of how truly horrible my situation is and although I can clearly contemplate in this thought-track how badly I have sprocked up, I cannot bring myself to care.
Sprock. The door is opening.
It is not Brainiac. Thank whatever omniscient being is out there: Valor or whoever might be listening. Rokk and Imra stand in the doorway, confused, angry, shocked, hair askew, not wearing shoes. Cosmic Boy's left eye is half-closed. Saturn Girl is in her nightclothes. Rokk is only wearing boxers, though I suppose those could also be considered nightclothes, though I hesitate to label them as clothes… I would instead consider them underclothes, though technically the term still includes the word clothes.
I am actually quite impressed at how quickly I can think. The span of three seconds has passed since the door opened and I have already taken in a decent amount of information before they can so much as speak. They are probably surprised to see…
Wait. I am still wearing my helmet. I knew I forgot something. Sedatives tend to make me forgetful.
I should take off the helmet. I'll just reach up and unbuckle the
"Stop!"
They both shout at once. What? I'm not planning on shooting them, for heavens' sake. I could do that with a mere thought. I don't need to move for them to both be dead, lying on the ground, bleeding out slowly. Or just dead with a quick headshot.
I believe I am a very morbid person when I do not have any sort of inhibitions in place. I cannot seem to grasp what is okay and not okay for myself at this point because my entire world is collapsing about me. I put my arms down.
Rokk and Imra relax, if ever so slightly.
"Gadget?" Imra says softly, "why are you here?"
Stupid auditions are still complicating my life in so many ways why was I such a sprocking idiot I never should have left in the first place and I find it somewhat fascinating that I can think such thoughts in a very calm manner I suppose once I reread this later I will discover that all of this is quite horrifying and will decide to never again use a sedative on myself in order to prevent panic attacks. Imra asked me a question and I should answer her.
"I'm not here to burglarize, pilfer, or otherwise acquire materials, ideas, or inventions that do not belong to me," I begin, surprised at how lucid and rational I sound on a drug that would send most people spiraling into idiocy. A testament to the power of exponential intellect levels. My mind is on such a higher plane that it cannot be touched by treatments designed for lesser intellects. "I am also not here to cause trouble."
Rokk and Imra do not appear convinced by my assertions. I still struggle to determine the right course of action. I had a plan. I forget what I was going to say. Perhaps I should not have drugged myself. I know that one of the thought tracks is holding the words I was going to say but it is not here right now only some of them are still thinking and they are thinking treacherous thoughts.
Also my respiration level is very low and that is probably not a good sign but I am much too drugged to consider that at this point.
"I am sorry to have caused you undue concern," I continue, "I mean no harm." I don't. I never have. It's only through my own idiocy and inaction that people suffer. It is all my fault always, but not because I mean to hurt people. People around me, people I care about, they simply end up hurting. In pain. Because of me. Not because I wanted them to be hurt.
Imra and Rokk are still exchanging glances. I suppose Imra is probably talking to Rokk. In her mind. I wonder if she has separate thought tracks or a thought track specifically for mind talking. Perhaps it is a Titanian adaptation. Fascinating. I will consider this at a later time. I have probably already considered this and the thought track that once thought about it is non-responsive at the moment.
Imra takes a gentle step forward. "Are you all right?"
I do not know what she means. Of course I am fine. I still have this thought track and two others functioning at limited capacity. "Ahm faaaahn," I say. But this is not right. My tongue feels thick inside my mouth, like somehow it has become a foreign object. The muscles in my face feel numb. This is perhaps not a side effect I had been expecting from the sedative.
"Rokk, we need to get him to sickbay right now!" Imra says, sounding panicked.
Ha.
Ha.
I should likely be concerned by this development but I only have two functioning thought tracks and one is journaling while the other is growing… tired.
Very tired.
Somehow…
Words…
Oh grife bile, burning my throat. I should…
helmet off…
Imra and Rokk are helping me stand. I cannot for the life of me
…
What is air?
How do feet move?
Sometimes I wonder how people think if they are not aware of their thought tracks. Is it harder or easier?
What if food was sentient? …Would it be sad… if you did not like it?
Do… foods think… favoritism is wrong? Is pizza insulted…when…you…call…pancakes… your favorite?
WHAT IF THE SKY CHANGED COLOR BASED ON ITS MOOD AND NOT LIGHT REFRACTION.
WHY DOES IT EXIST WHEN IT IS JUST A PRONOUN AND HAS NO REAL PLACE IN THIS WORLD EXCEPT A PLACE HOLDER HA WHAT AM I EVEN THINKING
WHAT IF AIR HAD FEELINGS
WOULD IT
WOULD IT
I DON'T EVEN
WHAT AM I THINKING
RIGHT NOW
WHAT
SPROCK MY ENTIRE FACE IS NUMB
OR MAYBE I
JUST DON'T KNOW
WHICH PART OF MY BODY IS MY FACE
WHAT IF MY FACE
WAS ACTUALLY
MY BUTT
HAHAHA
MY BUTT
I CANNOT BELIVE
I JUST USED THE WORD BUTT IN MY THOUGHTS
I DID IT AGAIN
HAHA BUTT
BUTTS
WHY DO HUMANS HAVE
A FASCINATION WITH
SUCH CRUDE
ROUND
ANATOMICAL
…THINGS?
SPROCK MY LUNGS
I THINK
I FORGOT
TO BREATHE
HAHA THAT IS FUNNY
SPROCK
I
MIGHT
HAVE
OV
OVER
AHAHAHAHA
I COULD HAVE
KILLED MYSELF
WOULDN'T THAT JUST
BE PERFECT
IT
WOULD
ALL
BE
GONE
AND
I
WOULDN'T
FEEL
ANY
THING
ANY
MORE
AND
IT…
WOULD…
BE…
…
…GLORIOUS…
…
…
…
~end~
A/N: All of these hazy capslock musings are inspired by tumblr nightbloggers. If anyone is interested in following me on tumblr/has a blog I might be interested, feel free to review about that or PM me or whatever. :) Hey look! It's the legion! Finally! But NOW WHAT. AND WHY DO I ENJOY TORMENTING QUERL SO MUCH?
Anywho stay tuned, more to come eventually.