logicisashame

[logicisashame]

Vent Post

I just hate it here sometimes. All the yelling, the anger, the stress, the underlying hate. I can’t stand being the only ones whose ever here. So, I convince myself it’s okay to not be here. Escaping into my own world, my made-up realities, playing make belief with characters I create. Writing stories about things I love; marvel, dc, harry potter, etc. I create “people” in my mind to keep me occupied, so I don’t feel as lonely as I really am.

I don’t have friends and I know everyone says that because they’re not content with their social life or with the friends they have but I really don’t. My “friends” moved off to college and stopped talking to me, I made “friends” in the mental hospital but it’s not like those relationships are meaningful in reality. When you go back to the real world you realize that what was never really was. You just couldn’t see it for yourself. I quit my job when I was discharged. Not only did I not enjoy the work or the stress, but it made everything worse. I had an anxiety attack that sent me to the hospital then to the psych ward. I had two “friends” at work but once I went to the hospital my existence in their life just disappeared. Once I wasn’t physically with them every day, I didn’t matter anymore. I have an internet “friend” but we don’t talk nearly as much. They were my best friend although I’ve only known them for 6 months. They were always there until they weren’t. It’s not their fault, we’re both mentally ill with the same issues. 

I’m stuck in this house, every single day. Only grocery stores and doctors see me. I don’t talk to people my age, only my brothers on occasion when we have to. I dropped out of college in October, everything was just too much to handle, and I missed too many classes. It’s not like I had friends there anyways. I mean I’m going back when the new semester starts. It’s hard to see no matter what I do or how hard I try life will never be the way I wished it could be. I see my brother go to college be successful, have a blossoming social life, and amazing grades. I see my other brother have a successful career and a soon to be wife. Living happily. My oldest brother could be better but could be worse. He has a son he loves and a job that provides. Then there’s me. The youngest, a disappointment who can’t function in normal adult life. I’m stuck in this hellish cycle of trying to live the way everyone wants me to and failing repeatedly.

I’ve never been good at the whole social thing. Social anxiety at 12, surrounded by people with zero moral and selfish personalities. Always being the punching bag, for whoever would use the term “friend” to describe me. Middle school was hell. Discovering I’m queer, failing my first class, mental health becoming prevalent enough to be diagnosed. Both boys I dated cheating on me with the girls I considered my best friends. Nobody in middle school stayed my friend in high school. Freshman year I dated my stalker confusing obsession with affection. The kind appreciation I never received. Everything seemed okay, fuzzing but okay. Like I was going to be fine if I never took the blurry filter off. But then the filter came out without my consent. I didn’t want anything to change, I wanted to stay in the suffocating bliss. Content as I thought. Everything changed when I moved to a place where I was out of the ordinary. Granted I found a group of people who were different and a part of the lgbt community. It wasn’t long until I realized I didn’t belong even to the outcasts. I was once more the girl who made everyone else look good, the girl who was there as a number. A background character that is only cast because you need someone to bring the attention to the main character. I’ve never been treated like I’m a main character, I mean sure I was popular in the dance studio when I was in middle school because I was good. Only as a dancer, not as a person. I quit all that when I was 14. Sick of being treated like a toy that they could play with only when they wanted to. 

Senior year of high school is when I put the pieces together: nobody likes me and they probably never will. I began to realize and live with that reality. I didn’t have friends just peers who had me trailing behind them because I desired to be seen. It’s all I ever wanted; to be seen by others. No, to be noticed. I tried dating that year but it never worked. No girl ever really wanted or cared about who I was and wanted I wanted. I’ve never understood people and why they do the things they do. I took sociology to help me understand but it made everything more confusing. I have never understood what I was doing wrong, frankly I still don’t. But through this I have come to the conclusion that none of those matters.

Nothing anyone says or does really matters. I’m still going to be living this life no matter much I hate it or love it, nothing will change. Opinions don’t mean anything. They don’t carry value only fact. But fact is found through observation and trial/error. If you really think about it life is just one big scientific method. Question, Hypothesis, Test, Evaluate, Test, Evaluate, Change Hypothesis if needed, Solve. The solution isn’t discovered until the life is at its end, no time to see the solution work. I understand how all of this may seem, me complaining about a life that isn’t that bad. I’ve had a semi average life. Sure, I’ve been given a decent life with middle class parents who provide and brothers who have never hurt me. But no matter what happens in someone’s life, no two lives can be compared. Sure, people can have similar lives or similar trauma, but they can never relate. For me this life, this chain of events, has been more difficult than I can comprehend. For others this is life they’d rather have. I’ve met people who have had much worse lives than me. 

Granted I had cancer at 15, yes that terrible I know don’t pity me please, that’s no excuse for how much I hate my life. I was never abuse, never disowned, never ran away, never had someone’s hands on me, never had a near death experience. Nothing to cause the trauma and depression I have. Cancer is all that has ever happened to my life, and it’s been almost 3 years. 

I know this may seem like a lot and honestly if nobody reads this it doesn’t matter. As long as it’s out there and not in my head that’s all that I care about. The overwhelming feeling of crying weights on my shoulders every day, the overwhelming feel of hurting myself burns my brain every day, the overwhelming want to disappear lingers around me every day. There is nothing that could change the way I feel about my life but hopefully seeing what I’m going through can help someone else like me. I just want people to not go through what I go through every day. Nobody is alone, trust me I know this, but when you’re mentally ill that’s a truth that is not easy to accept. Let alone hear. It’s okay to feel lonely without being alone. You don’t need to all on your own to feel lonely, you just need to feel. So, for anyone out there struggling with depression, anxiety, ptsd, bipolar or borderline personality disorder, I understand the weight that puts on someone. It’s okay to feel, it’s okay to not be okay, it’s okay to be hurting, it’s okay to want a different life, it’s okay to be you.

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I know that was a lot and very different than my normal posts but sometimes needing to get whatever is in your head out is vital. I just want people to know there are other going through the same thing in different ways. Life sick and it’s unfair but nobody says you have to go through that alone and in pain. 

Much Love,

Jayce xx

[logicisashame]

Collision

1: Deaf

Everyone is gathered to hear the mission brief. I casually waltz in late not realizing the meeting has already started. I pause as my teammates start at me in dismay. Dick gives me this look of disbelief, pointing to his wrist signaling I’m late. No shit.

“Black Vulture.” I continue to look at Dick as I walk across the room.

What?

You’re late. Again.

I know, I know.

Aids on?

No, I couldn’t find them this morning.

Dude!

Shush.

Everyone stares at us as we sign back and forth. Only a few of us are aware of my obvious deafness, and only a couple know sign language. That being Dick (as you can see), me, Timmy (cause I still live at home), Wally and Zatanna. Dick nods towards Batman and I shrug my shoulders. Batman points towards another room signaling me to follow him. I just roll my eyes.

What do you want? I sign to him, taking my mask off.

Put your hearing aids on. Obviously irritated with me

Couldn’t find them, must’ve misplaced them. I casually shrug my shoulders not too bothered by the fact I couldn’t find them.

Of course you did. Here. He hands me small devices to put in my ears. Instantly I blessed with my hearing.

“You need to be more responsible. Your hearing aids are vital, especially as an operative. You know everything I do is to protect you.” He crosses his arms like he’s lecturing a child. I am not a child.

“Protect me? You think that people are gonna think of me differently once they learn I can’t hear. I wasn’t born deaf! My body had a severe reaction to the Scarecrow toxin when I was 15. There was nothing that could’ve been done to prevent my body from attacking itself. I am as good as any of these kids. I don’t need my hearing to be good enough. Don’t forget what your arrogance has done to my life. It killed my mother, my little brother, and it almost killed me. You’re the reason I’m like this. Don’t you dare say you’re protecting me when you’re only looking out for your reputation. At least Dick and Timmy have never cared. “ I stop, catching my breath anger pulsing through my veins.

“Also don’t forget Wally and Zatanna still love me. Even if I can’t hear them!” I storm off not wanting to hear the brief. I quickly pass by group, pulling my mask soaking the fabric with my tears.

I collapse on the floor the moment I get to my room. I rip my mask off throwing it across the room. The overwhelming feeling of anxiety and pain surging through my body. I begin shake as memories of my mother’s death and the news of Jason’s death flood my brain. Watching my mother give up on hope, blood staining her hospital sheets, flatlining monitoring screaming in my ears. I was paralyzed, I couldn’t help her and I knew it. A 10 year old watching as her mother dies from the hands of petty thieves. Then being torn away from the only home you’ve ever know, just to have your little brother taken from you before you even finished high school. I had come home from school one day, senior year at Gotham Academy, just to hear that Jason Todd, my adopted brother, was just murdered. Murdered by the Joker, the one man who beat me nearly to death just to get to my father Batman. Everything that has happened to me has revolved around him. My mother’s death: Joker. My brother’s death: Joker. My hearing loss: Scarecrow. Almost dying: Literally any of Batman’s enemies.

My racing thoughts were interrupted by a warmth surrounding my body. Hands take the hearing aids out of my ears earning a big sigh of relief. Small arms wrap around my curled body, tightly embracing me. I take this as her telling me to relax. We stay like this for a moment before I decide I’m calm.

Better? Hands covered in white gloves move through the air, speaking to me. I nod in response.

Want to talk? She asks caressing my face.

Not about that. What did he assign you? I ask her about her mission to distract myself from the topic at hand.

Klarion has been acting up. He wants a magic user to take care of it. Sounds like him. I admire her beauty as she continues to sign to me. Taking about going to Singapore and fighting Klarion and magic stuff. I don’t really pay attention to what she’s says but at the fact that I am calm from just laying eyes on her.

Hello? Earth to Adrian. I snap out of my trance.

Sorry. Spaced out. Continue. I say reassuring her that I’m okay.

Adrian. She gives me this ‘don’t bullshit me’ look, knowing I’m bluffing.

Ok ok. I was entranced by your beautiful face. Nothing more. I promise. I stick out my pinky finger to show that I’m partially serious. She puts my hearing aids back in before saying

“Adrian Grace Kim-Wayne, I didn’t feel like signing all of this so here. I love you very dearly but you can be so goddamn annoying sometimes you know that right?”

“That’s the whole point of having a girlfriend, Zatanna. I’m supposed huge pain your ass, as are you. With your constant concern for my well-being and making me better when I just want to sulk. I love you too Zatanna Zatara.” I grab her jacket pulling into a kiss. Passionate and soft; just like us.

[logicisashame]

Big Work

If you like fanfiction, marvel or dc then this is for you.. I hope. This a story that I really wanted someone to make so I made it. I’m not done (obviously) but I’ll post each “chapter” (in terms of novice fanfiction) as I finish them. Do I proofread? No not really so don’t mind the occasional grammar or spelling errors. I’m only a first year college student. so yea if you want to see than it’s here. 

--

Jayce x

[logicisashame]

Hi

So um.. hi my name is Jayce. I’m kinda new to this whole posting on Tumblr this but yea. I write little short stories and also big ones (but none of them are post worry lol) but yea. I share my little stories that I write based on like playlists I listen to. My first two that I posted are based on the playlists “I told the stars about you” by Ivoryyy and “Your soulmate passed away before you could say goodbye” by Martine Malfoy on youtube. I listen to playlists like these (all genres and themes) to help inspire me. If you like my work that’s super cool, and if you want to give me a playlist to write a story based on let me know. So yea. 

[logicisashame]

Soulmates Aren’t Permanent

In a world where soulmates exist, one wouldn't think that some are never destined to meet. Unless you are the 3% of the population whose soulmate dies before you meet, this possibility never crosses your mind.

When I was 18 years old, I found the name of my soulmate Breanne Tildago. A 19-year-old from Montreal, Quebec. From the moment I finished high school I was determined to find her, to meet her, to be with her. Although we had never met, I knew her like I've never known a person.

* Author's Note: in this world soulmates send letters to each other to communicate but they are received instantaneously. *

The letter began when I was 16, every afternoon I would receive a letter on my desk in beautiful cursive. They started out simple and sweet, just her telling me about her day or small things about herself. Eventually they became deep and emotional, about her home life and her hopes or dreams. These letters were the one thing in my life that mattered. She made me a better person.

One day I received a letter on the counter of my Cincinnati apartment unannounced. It read:

Dear Elizabeth,

This is going to be my last letter to you. I hope we never have to keep sending this, talking would be much easier, I think. I want to see you, to meet you, to know what you look like. I have the descriptions you wrote of yourself, but I want to see with my own eyes you know. I’m flying to New York City of Friday the 10th; I’m going to be staying at Sivelle’s Hotel on Broad St. I hope to see you there. I fly back to Canada on the 15th for school so please don’t keep me waiting too long.

With much love,­

Breanne

New York huh? I immediately fished my computed out from my bag to book a ticket to JFK. I'll actually get to see what she looks like, what she sounds like, what she feels like. My heart starts to race thinking about what she's like face to face.

Two weeks later Saturday the 11th, it's time to board my flight to New York. "Ladies and Gentlemen this is your captain speaking. You have arrived to JFK International Airport. Please have a safe and wonderful trip and we hope you fly Delta again."

Stepping out of the plane, I see people crowded around a small tv screen mounted high on the wall. They were all intensely watching a news broadcasting about a gang shootout or something like that.

"Breaking News, moments ago on this corner tragedy struck. A young woman in her young twenties was shot and killed. Witnesses say there was a car full of armed and dangerous men who committed a drive by shooting killing the young woman in the process. Authorities identified her as Breanne May Tildago, the daughter multi-millionaire couple Brett Tildago and Marcy Smith-Tildago. The couple owns a successful trade company who work primarily with Artisan Goods such as cheese, wine and meats. Breanne was said to take up the business on her 21st birthday as her father Brett is dying from terminal lung cancer. Unfortunately, the young Breanne was alone in New York traveling for business. At this time-" I was in shock as I heard the news report. How could this happen? I don't understand. This doesn't make sense, she was fine this morning we wrote to each other, and she seemed happy. I can't believe this would happen.

Suddenly, my phone rang pulling me away from the television.

"Hello, is this Ms. Simmons?"

"Speaking?"

"Yes, this is Detective Bailey from the NYPD. Do you have a moment to come down to the station?"

“Uh.. yea, is there something I can help you with detective?” What the actual fuck is going on?

“I believe so Ma’am. If you could please come down to the central station, we should be able to sort this all out. Thank you.” And just like that he hung up the phone before I could ask any questions. Immediately I go outside to call a taxi.

“Take me to the NYPD Central Station.”

“Um, you good Ma’am?”

“Yea, just please its urgent,” the driver nods then drive to the station amid the traffic. We pull up to the station where I’m greeted by Detective Bailey.

“Hi Ms. Simmons, I’m Detective Bailey. We spoke on the phone earlier.” I nod in agreement not sure what to really say. He guides me into one of those interrogation rooms you see on TV. Creepier than you think. He pulls out a manila folder with a letter and an evidence bag and lays it out in front of me.

“Ms. Simmons.” He pauses for a moment before continuing.

“Did you happen to know Breanne Tildago?” Oh, so she really is dead.

“Um, yea. Well sort of. We never actually met in person.” I awkwardly shrug, scratching the back of my neck.

“What did you mean you never met? She left a note in her hotel room address to you.” He hands me the folder with the letter she wrote.

Dear Elizabeth,

If you’re reading this something terrible has happened. I can to New York to deal with some family business, I invited you because I knew this might our last and only chance to see each other. You were almost like an insurance policy for me, by coming here it assured me that my assets wouldn’t go to my family or end up in the wrong hands. There is a lot more to me than you know, than I’d like you to know. My family is head of an elite international trade group called The Tildago Group. We trade money, food, drugs, weapons, and luxury goods. Anything that you can’t get in a store you can get from us for the right price. My father has a business partner here in Brooklyn, but he can’t come to sort out his own mess due to his terminal lung cancer. I was sent as the next boss to sort out this disaster. This “partner” is extremely dangerous, and I can’t promise I will come back to be with you, but I need to clear my conscious before I died. If this letter makes it to you, I am most likely dead. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the soulmate you had hoped or wanted, but I did love you. The best part of my life was you. I don’t regret a second of the time I dedicated to you. I’m sorry you had to find out the way but just for some type of closure I left a scrapbook of all my photos along with a locket with my favorite picture, so you can always have me with you. I will miss you, my love.

Breanne Tildago.

How does one possibly process this kind of information? She wasn’t at all who I thought she was. Does this mean that what we had was all a lie?

“Ms. Simmons, it appears from this note that the both of you were very close. Is that correct?”

“Yes. Breanne was my soulmate. We often wrote to each other; we have been for the past two years in fact. She… s-she was the love of my life. Or so I thought.” I mumbled the last part making sure he didn’t hear me.

“Did you know about her or her family’s involvement with many famous mafia, gangs and cartels around the world?” What the fuck kind of question is that?

“No.” I say defensively.

“I’m just as of aware of this as you are. She never told me about this. She told me about her father’s cancer and how hard life is at home. But illegal activity? Never a peep. We shared everything with each other, clearly not everything.” This whole thing is making my head spin.

“She left these with the note. I’m assuming they were left for you.” He slides the evidence bag towards me. A beautiful gold locket with BMT engraved on the front held a stunning picture of a young Italian woman, a small photo album filled with pictures of her, and her family were lying in front of me. I was absolutely stunned. She was beautiful with such a bright smile. I wish I had the chance to see it with my own eyes.

“Ms. Simmons that will be all, thank you. If you think of anything, give me a call.” He handed me his business card along with a pitiful smile reassuring me.

From the moment I walked out the police station, I never took that necklace off. Even to this day, as a 53-year-old married woman, I hold Breanne May Tildago close to my heart. She will always be my first love no matter how far in life I go.

[logicisashame]

Unrequited Love

"I told the stars about you."

He froze in his steps. Not looking back to see the reaction on her face. Does she really think my heart is worthy?

"My dear. Is my heart worthy of such distinguish and praise?" He slowly adjusted his positioning, his back facing her with feet aligned, planted under him.

"My darling, you heart is worth its weight in gold. Your love is worth all the praise of the 9 kingdoms. My heart belongs to you, and if one were to ask, I would never want another to have hold of such preciousness. To answer your question yes, your heart is worthy of such praise. " She proudly poured her soul in her speech, leaving her lover speechless. Unable to comprehend why a princess would treat a lonely blacksmith with such dignity.

He slowly turned on his heal not daring to look her in the eyes as she proceeds to step closer to him. She slowly places both hands on either side of his dirty, rough face, lifting it towards her eyes.

"Michael James Traely, you are the love of my life. The one I want beside me as I take on the throne. The one I want to wake up to every morning and lie with every night. There is no person in this world that I'd rather spend my days with than you. No matter if you're a peasant blacksmith or a newly crowned prince. There is no mount of gold that could ever deter me from the hold you have on me." He dropped his shoulders and relaxed into her touch, gazing into her eyes sweetly.

"So, what did the stars say?" Michael asked as they sat together of an old wooden work bench in his blacksmith shop.

"They said 'Princess Aria Mederna of Caesen, if this is the man you chose to give your love to; remember to always remember who you are. Never let love or fear get in the way of your destiny: the woman you were born to become. Never let the fear of other deter you from your heart's true passion. And never let a man decided who you shall become.' It felt as though I was speaking to an oracle about my future. The serenity that overcame me afterwards was unimaginable. Their words left a mark of me, to always remain true and always pursue truth. Although they did not speak of you, they spoke of my love for you. Which to me speaks mountains. If they can acknowledge my feelings than surely my father can." Michael sat quietly listening to his lover speak, she was practically radiating light just thinking of the future with him.

"Although your father might never give me his blessing for I am a poor blacksmith and the son of farmers. I want you to hear me when I say Aria Belle Mederna, future queen of Caesen, will you marry me? For I will always protect you, I will always cherish you, I will love you til my dying breath. Be my wife and we shall live by one another's sides for the rest of our lives. You are the light in my darkness, you bring me down to Earth when my mind wanders. Be with me." Michael poured every emotion he had into his proposal, anxiously waiting for Aria's answer. He began to twiddle his fingers while the princess sat in silence with no expression. Soon enough Michael had enough of the silence, waiting for an answer he knew he would never receive. Just as he was about to get up and leave the princess reached out her hand and grabbed his forearm causing him to pause.

"My father would never accept such proposal..." His eyes widened in fear as the princess spoke.

"But I am not my father." She simply stated knowing her lover would understand her words.

"I will love you all eternity!" He rejoiced, picking up Princess Aria and spinning her around his workshop. Then as a celebration, he placed he down gently and waltzed with her around his small little workshop. Love had filled the air, flowing through every fiber and every material around them. As they danced, they felt as though their souls were intertwining with each other creating and new being of their love. The connection they shared was unlike any that has been seen.

This is one my short story/writing prompts I’ve done to pass the time.