ruialastor

[ruialastor]

Entry Five

Entry Six (for my actual journal): You Bring Me the Sun 

Have you ever encountered a person that fulfills the ‘literally sunshine’ meme, an individual drawn and bathed in sunlight that the artist draws them as a literal shining silhouette? A lengthy question with a very simplistic answer, I know. Well, I have one of those sun people in my life and I wanted to turn my feelings into words strewn across a laptop screen to solidify them and leave them written in stone. 

We spent a week apart, him going on vacation and me unable to trot behind me due to work. It was a decision that made me feel the growth in my journey, it made me feeling as if, or am, growing up. However, these feelings did not shield me from the days of constant pelting of rain, it was cloudy for the whole week, I lost my sun. I consider us jokingly as a pair of shelter puppies that need to be sold together: a joint pair if you will. When working beside one another, we are whole. Apart, separate and fractured. 

The days were missing a key component, once they reach their closure and the night has come, I found myself missing him the most. He was a sun that never set, always dazzling to me and his warmth, it never faltered. While he was away, there were storm clouds and thunder; my words lashing out through a hurt and forked tongue almost, feeling of betrayal staining my usually gold words a dreary grey. 

The thunder boomed loudly at first, but as the days coursed on, they quieted into a snarling whimper. My emotions were cooling and all I was left with was how much I missed him, how no matter what we went through, good or bad, I will always want to go through it together. 

When I laid eyes on him, ha, the world regained it color. Even though the sky was a monotone white, it looked gorgeous to me. He looked gorgeous to me in that light. And he shined. He dazzled. His smile was uncontrollable and I could tell. The excitement radiating off of him took me by storm when I opened my car door to embrace him. 

I am in love with the sun.

My light comes from his own. 

We are the sun and moon. 

Icarus flew too close to the sun once upon a time, but I embrace it with my whole. Sometimes I may get burned. Sometimes I overheat. 

At the end of the day, he is my sun and I am his moon. What a pair we make. 

[ruialastor]

Entry Four

Day Four: Slumber 

Worked 10 hours plus today, very tired. No creative juices flowing, my head is numb. Let’s try again tomorrow. 

Slumber awaits. 

[ruialastor]

Liar

I’ll be fine has become a mantra for me. 

A smile plastered across my face when my soul is frowning. 

I’ll be fine, I say. 

My chest tightens. 

I’ll be fine, I smirk. 

Tomorrow brings me anxiety. 

I’ll be fine, I lie. 

I’ll be fine, I lie. 

I want help, I whisper. 

A sparkling paragon of health and joy, I pose. 

I am a liar. 

[ruialastor]

Entry Three

Day Three: Rose Turned Wilted 

I was placed into a false sense of security this morning, assuming foolishly that the day would go swell considering I was coming in at midday; my guard lowered and expectations glimmering for ease. 

Sometimes I want to slap myself for being hopeful. 

It brings me shame on occasion, whenever I feel a tinge of anger when my hopes and prayers are not answered. I am a firm believer of everything happening for a reason, but sometimes, I become an atheist of the ruling. 

Petal by petal, I feel myself lowering to the cold, salted earth. 

To keep matters short, things did not work out today. Surprisingly, work was simplistic, straightforward, and there was no vile being spat. I should consider that a blessing, huh? No, I am met with a blow from someone who has carved their way into my heart and remains in my psyche every moment of my days. It was a moment of hurt and disappointment in the world, however, I am the one who takes the fall. The one who is targeted to take the blow for someone else’s selfish choice. 

I feel targeted. Perhaps I am not, perhaps I’m merely there. There in existence, in the plane that tells the sender to go no holds barred. 

I have wilted before, all my petals plucked and my body laid bare. It feels as if it is happening again. Every fit of misfortune, every individual who falsely believes I am a vibrant ruby flower. 

I am a rose turned wilted, and I waiting for a warm rain to help wipe away my wounds. 

[ruialastor]

[ruialastor]

Day Two: Spring Tempest

It’s was a a slow and magnificent day, usually that’s how all days go when I can take a breather from the torrent of drama that foolishly calls itself a “workplace”. Though, that’s enough about that, I have to return come noon tomorrow. 

A chocolate lab’s coat is double-layered, and as spring is approaching, my canine companion has been making it his daily routine to shake about in morning greeting; bonking his head against mine to display affection, and then doing a bundle of spins prior to laying back down if I decide we aren’t ready to begin the day. I just washed the sheets yesterday...it looks like typhoon of light cocoa strands in here. 

It was warm and graceful this morning and well into the afternoon, the blankets providing a tight embrace that doesn’t quite rival a lover’s grasp, but grants comfort all the same. I would have to say, this is the only time this household has been an actual household. There is no noise, all is calm, and I can hear my thoughts and the surroundings: from the chirping birds outside, to a distance lawnmower, to my dog’s quiet snores. 

I make it habit to get my rest in when I can...or when my spouse reminds me, which is usually heavily. I tend to put my health and other means aside, it’s what comes with the territory of being taught to brush off whatever life throws at you, that includes injuries and illness. 

Today was boring, a good kind of boring where I had time on my hands and a large bed to dream in. Tomorrow, I’m not so sure. 

Outside, I watched the trees sway to a spring tempest. 

[ruialastor]

Where does the good go?

I suppose once you turn a broken faucet on it has no choice but to leak and flow in an uncontrolled manner, huh? I kinda feel like that faucet. I posted one thing and it felt, liberating? It felt like a breath of fresh air, so now, I feel power in every little tap on this keyboard. I can talk and talk (I hope...unless I get banned or something for who knows what). 

Anyway, where does the good go? It’s a good song I heard on Grey’s Anatomy once, but also, now I’m thinking about its title. Where does the good go? Wasn’t there a time when it wasn’t a chore to be nice and thoughtful to someone else? To throw your opinion in their face and try, try, try to reign superior? I guess the neon lighting of hope was all a fabrication of a world through a child’s eyes? Reality isn’t so modest and sweet. It’s a place that has you wondering: Where did the good go? 

[ruialastor]

Cold Flames - Entry One

Context: I can no longer hold all my emotions and feelings inside because it is eating me alive so now, I am turning to the void of the vast internet where my words can blossom and flow about, maybe someone can relate, maybe many can’t, this is more for me to cease breaking apart from the inside out. No names from my personal life will be utilized and honestly, I hope someone out there sees this and maybe, just maybe, they know they’re not alone. I work in the veterinary medicine field. 

The morning begins slowly and there’s a moment of happiness because familiar faces are in office today, new friends who have accepted me as more than the new employee. I have an identity with them. As a nice offering, one of the seniors who is a bit rugged but seemingly harmless has dug through the burrows of her closet the night before and washed an old jacket with our company name for me to wear around the job and battle the cold of early spring and late winter; a thoughtful task. 

The first nail that digs into my skin today is the client that I cannot please. A dog that needs fluids drained from its stomach, a follow up appointment requested. There is no urgency nor sense of emergency in the man’s voice, annoyed and entitled. Our schedule is filled beyond measure, but I always want to try no matter the odds. Or I try when I know there is a slim chance of being yelled at. He rudely hangs up the phone in a childish manner when my offer of making him our very first client tomorrow is not good enough, leaving my cheeks flushed and a chill on my spine -- this stupid feeling whenever I feel nervous, embarrassed, or just downright angry. Yet, there’s nothing I can do. I do what I believe is right and speak to the main head about the client that hung up, and end up arranging the schedule for this asshole. His wife answers and the problem has apparently been solved, with them getting what they want regardless of being rude and ignorant towards me. My feelings of ice fire remains. 

The second nail. It digs in deeper than the first drawing blood and gnawing into muscle. I am under the impression that I have a break despite it being a half day, I am used to a part-time schedule from my previous job and all assumed that I knew the rules and regulations of this labyrinth of pettiness and forked tongues. A woman who already has her eyes narrowed and angered on the usual blows up about the situation rather than coming to me in a professional manner and discussing the incident. I come up at the exact moment to catch wind of the yapping to one of my friends. I take my lukewarm lunch to the phone with the slower computer and try to attempt calling people back. I barely bring out my food and there I am pelted with the third nail. 

The third nail. It blinds me, tearing across the cornea even. Completely left field. The senior, despite her kindness earlier, has decided that now was the perfect time to dig her nails into me alike the rest. A phone is heard in the other room, she mistakes it for my own and scolds me like an insolent child. Expressing that despite me eating, I should be answering the phone. I didn’t even get a bite, my hand slowly lowering what would have been my first bite. My timid, quiet retaliation falls on deaf ears, and I cannot defend myself. They have a beautiful and joyous rest of their day, laughing and gargling their stupid gossip and chatter. I feel like I’m ready to tear into two, the fire in my stomach burning hotter and hotter, then, my cheeks flush. The infamous burning across the bridge of my nose signifies that I will begin to cry soon. And I do. I choke back my sobs, tears slipping down my face and onto the desk as I put away my food in fear. There is a client I have to put on hold, unable to get myself together and match their antics with advice. Going to to my ally within the whole vicinity, I break. Holding back the volume in my voice, days of pain seep through the seems and leave me exposed. Always exposed. My emotions hang off of my sleeves like an oversized jacket, always ready to brush against someone and catch their attention. 

I wanted to disappear. I wanted to leave in that moment. Here I am harboring all this ice fire, all this embarrassment and anger, and they all can laugh and continue on as if there is no repercussion, seemingly finding satisfaction and grace in pulling someone down into the dirt. They’re awful. It’s unbelievable. It’s pitiful. 

My words fall on deaf ears. Sometimes I wonder what I sound like. How do my coworkers hear me when they decide to pluck down a polite and happy soul? How do my parents hear me when they decide that I am incorrect despite knowledge beyond their years? What is it in my voice that grants others the power and ability to bring me down? 

Niceness has gotten me far, and it has become my worst enemy. So here I lay. Burning up inside and freezing all at once. Here I lay in my cold flames. 

Tomorrow is another day. 

[ruialastor]

everyone be quiet !!!! he's sending email

[ruialastor]

Chris: What are you writing, Wesker?

Wesker: Chief Irons wants to know what kind of weapons we have in S.T.A.R.S personal storage. I'm letting him know it's private information.

Jill, looking over Wesker’s shoulder: This just says “fuck around and you’ll find out” in calligraphy.

Wesker: Yes, well, I refuse to acknowledge his position as “above mine.”

[ruialastor]

GET THE FUCK OUT.

[ruialastor]

HALLOWEEN K🔪LLS 2021 | dir. david gordon green

[ruialastor]

Michael Myers Halloween Kills (2021)

[ruialastor]

GOODNIGHT

[ruialastor]

It really astounds me that I’m a model citizen in the theaters almost 100% of the time…But when Michael Myers is on screen I literally shouted “DAMN BABY YOU LOOKING GREAT” as an immediate response.

Like every time he showed up on screen it was another thirst shout of excitement…And I brought in a fish that I bought from petsmart so.

[ruialastor]

Awesome art in the style of Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark by Watchful Eye