[ writing dump??? ]

[emoji movie]

MAYBE

go away I don’t appreciate this disrespect

[emoji movie]

I don't know when my dreams started counting down. I don't know when they started, or what really happens in all of them, or if they're even connected, but I know my dreams are starting to count down.

Hear me out. Typically, this would probably make someone scoff, or start a huge conspiracy, or something. Typically, this thing only happens to those anime protagonists in shows- the ones that sit in the back of a room with jutting blue hair and downcast eyes. Typically, this thing leads to something incredibly important or happens when someone is going through a tough time or something. But the thing is, none of these cliches apply to me. Hell, if one of them did, I might even be grateful. I'd have a place to start. Instead, I have Sharon, my therapist.

I told her- I swear I told her. I told her my dreams were counting down. I told her an yet all she did was chuckle and tell me that it was probably counting down the days until I was to attend to something big I had planned, and I was nervous for. Sharon never really got me, but she listens to me, and honestly, she's a pretty good friend for a therapist. I've had a few before, and none never really listen to me. They're clinical and seem more like scientists picking me apart rather than a friend.

Anyways, sorry I ramble a lot. It's just-- these dreams keep me up sometimes and that gets me to kind of stop having a filter. Like, I don't want to sleep because of them. When I go to sleep and I have these dreams, it's the worst. There's like an unsettling feeling that creeps down your spine, and raises the hair on your arms, and your dreams become lucid. Unfortunately, it's not like those ads that show lucid dreaming like this awesome cool thing- not for me. For me, it's like you're aware and more awake then ever, but you can't wake up, and you can't control anything.

And the worst thing is how subtle the numbers are. On 43, the number was big and bold on a calendar. On 42, I found it stitched in the sleeve of my suit. It always changes. Constantly. You never know where to expect it. None of the dreams are connected- sometimes I'm being chased by bad grades- other times I'm riding a pig at a rodeo. But it's always there. The numbers. I always see them, and they're always going down.

23.

24.

25.

Once I didn't sleep for a night, refusing to see the number again. The night before I stayed up, my number happened to be 17. I don't know what I was really thinking. It might've been the fear of seeing the number and feeling that paralysis- that feeling creep through my spine. Maybe it was the fact I didn't want to see it countdown. I crashed the night after I stayed up. I remember distinctly staring at the stars with my cat, and a giant 15 appearing in the stars.

[emoji movie]

"So what am I to you?"

The silence was resounding, filling the air and hanging above our heads like a boulder. For a moment, I could see his face form a confused glance, and something that I couldn't recognize flashed across his face. Something I was so sure of a month ago, would've been guilt, but now? Now I wasn't sure if I even knew the man in front of me. A month ago I could tell you his name, his favourite colour, favourite food, favourite games-- I could tell you who he liked and who he didn't, I could tell you about his mother and his father's tough relationship, I could tell you about his every habit. But now, I wasn't even sure if his name was his name.

"What am I? A colleague? A friend?"

Anger flared in my voice and I was mildly surprised. He'd lied about everything, he used me to get to where he wanted to be. He played with my feelings and my head and he couldn't even answer a simple question.

"Am I a side effect? A casualty? A sacrifice?"

I could see his jaw tighten and his hands clamp into a fist, and I knew I was getting to him. Taking a step forwards and closer to him, I narrowed my eyes and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer to me.

"How many people have you done this to? I don't care that you're a superhero- I don't care that by pretending you liked me, you saved the city. I don't give a single damn about that. How many people have you let down? How many people have you left behind? How many people have you discarded like trash just to get that headline in the paper, 'super whatever the hell saved the city again'!"

I could feel my hands tighten and shake around the collar of his shirt. His brows furrowed, and his glasses started sliding down his nose when he pushed it up using his hands. Anger filled my head as I keep my mouth running. I couldn't see the destination, but it just kept pouring out, as if my feelings were water filling the jug that was my head. This man- this wonderful man that had convinced me he was normal and convinced me that he was one of the first people who loved me- was a fake. He didn't even like me. He just needed me to get close to his target.

"You all think you're so clever. You think because you have these special powers and these special suits and these special lives- you think you can just stomp over whoever you want to get what you want. You think that you're better than all of us. You think that, as long as you get rid of the bad guy, you're a good person. Well you're wrong. You're dead wrong."

I could feel tears building up, and I had to let go to wipe them away and form a straight face. He didn't deserve your tears. He didn't deserve to see you break over him. He didn't deserve that satisfaction.

"So, what am I to you?"

The silence returned once more, and I breathed out a heavy sigh. I could feel all the tenseness in my body had faded, and suddenly, I felt incredibly tired.

"Y'know what, I can help. I'll tell you what I'm not-- I'm not a little girl. I'm not naive. I'm not someone you can trick and use again and again. Goodbye 'superboy', have fun being a good person."

I turned my back, and began walking.

[Ranger of the North]

chewed 'im up and spat 'im out

[emoji movie]

@ranger
no clue what that means but i'll take it 8)

[Ranger of the North]

XD and I'm not sure how to explain it... Maybe it's a cultural difference? But you own it. c;

[blackbird.]

ah that's so true !!
can't stand all those hypocrites who
play 'holier than thou' with you
and they're really just heartless and pharisaic.
would be interesting to see things from
the hero's point of view though!
maybe he hurt her on accident
but he had good intentions?
seems interesting that he didn't answer her
was it because he knew he was guilty
(and he's remorseful)
or because he understands her hurt and would
rather her hate him than for him to keep her
with him when she can't deal with his life and
he's letting her go for her own happiness..??

[emoji movie]

ah that's so true !!
can't stand all those hypocrites who
play 'holier than thou' with you
and they're really just heartless and pharisaic.
would be interesting to see things from
the hero's point of view though!
maybe he hurt her on accident
but he had good intentions?
seems interesting that he didn't answer her
was it because he knew he was guilty
(and he's remorseful)
or because he understands her hurt and would
rather her hate him than for him to keep her
with him when she can't deal with his life and
he's letting her go for her own happiness..??

i'll get a hero's POV soon !! just you wait
thank u for ideas lmao

[emoji movie]

one.
how've you been

two.
mmm,, ive been good, you?

one.
ive been good too
and i just want you to know that
i love you sm

two.
i know

one.
i just want you to know that
no matter where you are
or what youre doing
ill always be by your side

two.
t
t

one.
unless it's illegal

two.
oh
alright

one.
im kidding
ill pay your bail
you dork
hello?
okay

one.
i got like twelve notifications
did you delete something?
hello?

one.
alright, i'll ttyl

two.
i love you too

[emoji movie]

Our society has always been eternally sad. Not only are you fated to be with someone from the moment you're born-- it also gives you exact words that'll eventually spill from your soulmates mouth scribbled in a small font on your wrist, where you are labeled like a can of processed food. Not only that, but the words printed on your wrist happen to be another cruel joke society just loves to play-- they happen to be the last words your soulmate. It's always looked down upon when you complain about stuff like this. People always say, "be grateful you have direction in your life" or "be grateful you have words on your wrist", because then they'll go on a spiel about this one girl that this one girl that their friend's friend's cousin's brother knew that didn't quite have words on their wrist. People always say to be grateful I have a soulmate-- be grateful I have someone who's willing to love me-- be grateful, be grateful, be grateful. Sometimes I am. Other days, I look down at my wrist and stare at the poisons embedded in my skin, the words that I would rather seep away through my skin forming thoughts in my head of anger and hatred and red. Words that I'd like to disappear and be rubbed off entirely. Words that I never want to hear.

Words that read: "Hello, nice to meet you."