⤑ lost

[benexo]

fdjsfddksalfjdslafjdlsa

inspo:

• "east of eden"
  
• skinny dip
• oz
• anesthesia
• all of these
• fragment
• everyone has something

[benexo]

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She's walking by herself, loosely wrapped in a knit burgundy scarf, pale hands in her coat pockets. A silver promise ring on one of her fingers. Her feet are dragging along, and warm, faded colored maple leaves crunch beneath the soles of her short tan boots.

You glance at her, an average girl out for a breath of fresh air. Nothing special. You would walk past her without a second thought.

But there's something about her expression. The way she's holding herself. The way her brows are slightly furrowed, as if in deep thought. The way the autumn chill doesn't seem to affect her, when streetwalkers hurrying along are quickly zipping up their coats and rubbing their hands together.

No matter who you are, what corners of life you come from, there is a universal truth about a very certain feeling of absolute melancholy. It is not to be confused with depression or some form of it; no, this feeling is almost beautiful. Indescribable. It makes you feel infinite, a part of the world and yet so desolated in that one moment. It's a feeling you just know when it comes upon you. No, engulfs you. It takes you over, makes you stop and think for a bit and listen to that one playlist you have reserved for such occasions. Ask yourself unanswerable questions.

What if things hadn't happened exactly as they had?

Where would I be?

Who would I be?

Things occur to you. You ponder over them continuously, trying to find all the right answers and believing you'll make more appropriate choices in the future to correct things so it'll all go smoother, more according to plan. The plan being a perfect life without regrets and wrong decisions. What everyone wants.

But the likelihood of that is zero, because perfection is merely an image, an unattainable notion used so that people can believe they are striving towards something bigger than themselves. It is an image of flawlessness in a world where everything is flawed. But that is the reality - and perhaps in some way, it all falls in place. It all makes sense. It is all, to say, a perfect sequence of mistakes and beautiful disasters.

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[Paradise;]

bookmarking ;

[benexo]

oh, thanks so much! <3
there's not much on here yet though heh

[Paradise;]

That's okay. ^^ I already see huge potential. I have a feeling there's going to be some amazing stuff here and I don't want to miss any of it. c:

[benexo]

awww you're too kind! ^^ thanks again!

[kavv]

[ Bookmarking ^^
Edit;; Sorry x3 ]

[benexo]

nawhh thank you very much! <3
do you mind turning off your siggy though? blame my OCD hahaha xD
thanks again c:

[benexo]

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chapter one.

Light. White light. I can't see anything, or perhaps everything has just spontaneously combusted or metamorphosed white. Why can't I see? Things are so fuzzy. I can just register my eyes opening and closing but the image does not change.

I have no sense or recollection of time, but eventually sensations begin returning to me. The first thing I felt was a slowly increasing buzz all throughout my body. It started in the very tips of my fingers, spreading upwards through my arms and neck, prickling the roots of my blonde hair. When it had extended to every corner of each limb, the feeling gradually escalated until it had heightened to what could very well be an electrical current. Pain shot through me. My nerves felt spiked by static.

Seconds. Minutes. Hours. Days. It could've been over in a second or an eternity, for all I know. But when all my senses came rushing back to me and the buzz went away, I was overcome. It was all so sharp, so piercingly sharp. The smell of zeniot and sephyn and metal was overpowering. My eyes shot open and it took a millisecond to focus but then it all came into view. I was positioned looking upwards at a high glass ceiling that glowed with bright light from behind it. Was that the white light I saw when I was out? I had no way of knowing. It looked as if it stretched infinitely - there were no cracks or breaks in the smooth mass, nor was it reflective, which also meant I was not able to see myself. That's when I tried to sit up.

There was immediate resistance at my wrists and ankles, binding me to whatever was underneath me. My broes furrowed in confusion, and I stopped to gather my bearings. Rolling my wrists against the tight material, I realized that it was a binding. I was strapped down. Frantically, questions upon questions came to mind -

Where am I?

Why can't I recall anything?

Everything is a blur. What is going on?

Answers. I needed answers. I shook my head left and right, which brought sudden discomfort because of my new acute eyesight. Something felt very wrong. My head was pounding, the world was spinning, it was all too much.

And then came the voices.

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[benexo]

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Change. Change is constant. Without it, there is nothing to compare to. Change is an utmost necessity for life to move forward. Change is good. Change is bad. It is the unexpected, the unforeseen. It is a crater of mystery.

Change is what defines us.

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