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we (address your bubble) and then make your speech. welcome to the 21st century. we don't have flying cars but global epidemics and monopoly capitalism.

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Okay, but how are we supposed to play without a table now?

You and your buddies dress as your DND characters as an anniversary event. Maybe it’s just atmosphere, but they’re feeling more real as the session goes on. It isn’t until the girl playing a half-orc snaps the table in half while laughing that you all realize there’s something weird happening.

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Now you only live in my memories, the only place you can't hurt me as I hurt you. By saving us, I'd lose myself, and I rather die to let you live without me.

A piece of my heart that you leave to die.

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I was afraid at the beginning, and now what rests for me is accepting the situation. Everything was an experiment that went wrong, simplifying as a dream to visit when life is heavy and unsustainable. I can’t turn off this feeling. Am I only a replacement to satisfy the ideal form of desire? I understand I’m being dramatic, overflowing the odds with sorrow and doubt. Still, there’s so much torment inside me, and time is running backward.

A piece of my heart that you leave to die.

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He was a porcelain doll with different eyes reflecting different skies, dusk, and night holding a heavy sight for those who feel it resting on their shoulders. And his long, dandled, and straight hair glowed as gold with the silver moonlight smile his face carries. But in the end, his presence continued to lift distress and misfortune from a very long past his soulless body tasted, and the afflicted mind still touched.

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Thank you so much!

I remember the blue sky and the heat of the sunlight crossing the trees, lighting up the green leaves, dimming as a collection of emeralds jewels, while I was swimming in the forest. I moved fast as the wind, cutting the grass below me as I ran to reach the echoing sound that came above the woods.

In an open field, I saw the clouds swirling like a violent sea. The sun exhibited the shadows of the creature that was drifting in the sky. So noble, wonderful, and unique, the whale revealed itself for me, dancing on its own. Its melody was blue but a clamor for consciousness. From the bottom of the heart, it said: “I don’t wanna be alone,” smiling with tears on its eyes.

It was so high, kilometers from the ground, tenting me to give up to follow my emotions. I was just an ambitious fox, naive and falling for someone new, a complete stranger that stole my heart without knowing.

I felt my feelings burning me alive, not so scared to let them come out, not so proud to turn me around, but unprepared to dive into the unknown.

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I remember the blue sky and the heat of the sunlight crossing the trees, lighting up the green leaves, dimming as a collection of emeralds jewels, while I was swimming in the forest. I moved fast as the wind, cutting the grass below me as I ran to reach the echoing sound that came above the woods.

In an open field, I saw the clouds swirling like a violent sea. The sun exhibited the shadows of the creature that was drifting in the sky. So noble, wonderful, and unique, the whale revealed itself for me, dancing on its own. Its melody was blue but a clamor for consciousness. From the bottom of the heart, it said: “I don’t wanna be alone,” smiling with tears on its eyes.

It was so high, kilometers from the ground, tenting me to give up to follow my emotions. I was just an ambitious fox, naive and falling for someone new, a complete stranger that stole my heart without knowing.

I felt my feelings burning me alive, not so scared to let them come out, not so proud to turn me around, but unprepared to dive into the unknown.

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And that was my Kat Stratford moment, thank you.

We don't know each other. In fact, we just met. But I want to understand your motivations, hold your hand, and your body closer. In the meantime, I'll be trapped with playful signs that lead me into the darkest places, feeding me among hazy thoughts, and I don't know why. Well, I assume why. I feel like I don't deserve you, that I don't deserve to be happy, that I don't deserve someone who really likes me back. My mind performs illusions till I decide to give up and run away.

However, I can't help myself to think that you're here just to play with me, misleading my way, gaslighting my emotions, or putting me on hold. You're gonna say, "I'm not like that," but how I suppose to know? I think you have a beautiful soul, and you deserve a lot of things. You're so beautiful as dreams and fantasies. Still, I need shots of reality.

So, there are things that I hate about you and you deserve to know why. I hate that we don't see each other often, but we just met, and that's normal. I hate the fact that you don't send me messages, and I'm always the first. But that's okay because I wake up early and I'm always on the phone. I hate that I'm always thinking about you, and I don't know if you're thinking about me. But that's normal, I can't read your mind. I hate that I want you all the time and don't know if I'm desired like that. But that's okay, I'm enough for myself. But at the same time, I hate that you don't seem in love and paranoid. You don't act like I'm the only thing that makes you flowed with tons of emotions, just the way that I'm feeling now.

Also, I hate the fact that I can't hate you more than I like you.

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We don't know each other. In fact, we just met. But I want to understand your motivations, hold your hand, and your body closer. In the meantime, I'll be trapped with playful signs that lead me into the darkest places, feeding me among hazy thoughts, and I don't know why. Well, I assume why. I feel like I don't deserve you, that I don't deserve to be happy, that I don't deserve someone who really likes me back. My mind performs illusions till I decide to give up and run away.

However, I can't help myself to think that you're here just to play with me, misleading my way, gaslighting my emotions, or putting me on hold. You're gonna say, "I'm not like that," but how I suppose to know? I think you have a beautiful soul, and you deserve a lot of things. You're so beautiful as dreams and fantasies. Still, I need shots of reality.

So, there are things that I hate about you and you deserve to know why. I hate that we don't see each other often, but we just met, and that's normal. I hate the fact that you don't send me messages, and I'm always the first. But that's okay because I wake up early and I'm always on the phone. I hate that I'm always thinking about you, and I don't know if you're thinking about me. But that's normal, I can't read your mind. I hate that I want you all the time and don't know if I'm desired like that. But that's okay, I'm enough for myself. But at the same time, I hate that you don't seem in love and paranoid. You don't act like I'm the only thing that makes you flowed with tons of emotions, just the way that I'm feeling now.

Also, I hate the fact that I can't hate you more than I like you.

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At first, I thought he was a different person. He was definitely different; maybe he was feeling different too, feeling like a better version of himself. But who am I to say who he is or who he was. I never met him before. We talked, but we flew over before time got us. Now the universe reunited us again, a single play that I was glad to be part of. At the same time, my heart lived ready to talk to someone new following a hard time of stressful situations that addressed me to settle for the wrong motives and reasons. Excepting my mistakes, things overflowed my emotions with good moments and memories. What made me give up was realizing that my love was for the wrong causes and the purpose.

Anyhow, he was there, in front of me, glowing like polished bronze and smiling all the time. I fancied the perfect size of that and the intensity he placed on his desires from the moment. It was fascinating to view. Moreover, his voice was pleasant, quiet, and yet, sort of inaudible. The music at the restaurant merged references to our previous conversation, not that loud to bother us, which made me think he was too introverted to speak up over the song. I figure he was a kind of a wallflower character, silent but a careful listener. I, however, consumed hours chatting about books and movies that harmonize the subjects. Sometimes he looked forced to keep himself listening to all that and more. Wanted to please, but made me look like a fool.

In the middle of all that, the restaurant was closing early, and we had to leave. We decided to sit on a park bench or walk for a little while. I was glad when he asked some questions about the past, always that when someone is new, they want the yore of our lives, and I was hopeful he talked too, and he did. Now we were another thing and not entire strangers.

When we had to leave, I walked with him toward the parking lot where he left his motorcycle. He arrived there without an extra helmet, so it was time to said goodbye to each other. Kinda blue cause I wanted a ride and a good night kiss in front of my door. Venus was in Libra. Such a shame my fairytale date ended like that. Just a quick hug, no emotions left behind. Why I wasted my time believing he wanted a second date? He said that just to amaze me.

On my way home, I saw him passing by the streets and... stopping. He decided to give me a ride, anyway, and break the rules. I wish he break more rules for me in the future if tomorrow comes. It was kind of fun the style he approached his bike over my way and followed me over the mirror while I was sitting on the back of his motorcycle. I noticed how much I wanted that kiss when I came closer. My second chance was right there, then I started to feel his body closer to mine, the smell of soap on his clothes, and the heat of his waist over my hands. Now I wanted more than that. If I was lucky, he could remember the way to my house so he could come over whenever he wanted.

When we arrived, he took off his helmet and said:

“I want to kiss you,” smiling without looking me in the eyes.

Everything was so away with him. His mind was like a turbulent session of different movies passing by, one by one, but he was trying to focus on me. Or perhaps I just want to see him focus on me. Then I came for the kiss, and by the time I was touching his lips with mine, I needed more to embrace that excitement I set to rest months ago. He tasted like the juice he ordered for dinner, sweet oranges in the summer, and was gentle like waves in a moonless sky. I wanted to invite him to spend the night, but it was too soon for that and too late for my alike behaviors. But I liked him, he was different and good. We said goodbye to each other, and I was feeling glad that I met him for dinner.

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I rebel, not human-like, but I ingest and let it grow within my skin and osseins as an infection or disease. Yet, I still can't touch redemption. I don't understand this pathway; existence isn't that fair to let us exhale toxins and then persuade us of the cure.

"Everything is an elegant fantasy."

I wake up to perform an entertainment, missing every time, but still on the range, ready to crash again and serve for the next day. Surrendered from my powers, however, I learned how to handle violent waters inside me and forsake those who were afraid to undergo their passions.

"I'm constantly conceiving life inside this fabrication of reality full of ambushed souls."

And, one day, I will wake up at the seashore of mercy, ready to see the end of an era.

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Everything changed when David left the reformatory. He's a junior, like me, like everyone in our network. But the difference, he was unbeatable. Nothing gets in his way.

It started in 2019 when he beat the fuck in some college guy. After the sue, his father sent him to Dronfield High to cover up the story. Today, January 5th, David was back.

I was watching him across the cafeteria, high-fiving his homies and hugging the cheerleaders.

So pathetic.

In the 4th period, I was in bio. My lab partner got sick, so I had to team up with David and his friend, Lisa. We were supposed to explain the Water Cycle through a fish tank full of rocks, earth, plants, and, of course, water.  Mr. Looney gave the necessary equipment to us to create the tank and record notes to compare in the process.

I was sure that be part of David's Club was the worst idea. Besides, it was my fault to agreed with Mr. Looney's scheme in the first place.

"The first step is to understand the system inside the tank," said Mr. Looney. "It's crucial to make the water flow naturally."

I already knew the system. If I were with my partner, we would be discussing how to build the tank. But the actual scenario was the worst. Even though I previously saw what was happening, it took me five minutes to create the courage to look at David and Lisa.

They were next to me, side by side, at the last lab bench with their hands in each other's laps. That was what I taught at the first glimpse, but my eyes flash a vision that I couldn't ignore: Lisa holding David's dick.

After bio, the rest of my day was pretty usual. I got home, play something online, ate, and started to build the tank. Since my parents were out of town for the week, my brothers were in college, and my cat hated me, I was alone most of the time in the garage making stuff for school. That moment was for that tank. The Water Cycle Tank. The WCT. On my plans, I'll be finishing it in three days.

At night, I ordered pizza for dinner and took a hot shower to wash the day and the dirty. Then I heard the doorbell ringing.

Shit.

Covered in soap and shampoo, I went out of the bathroom and moved straight to the front door.

"I'm coming!"

But the doorbell didn't stop. I already paid for the pizza, so why for all that rush?

I reach the front door, opened up, then I saw David standing there with my pizza box in his hands and a slice approaching his mouth.

What the fuck? What his doing here?

I didn't see that coming. I knew that David doesn't work as a pizza delivery guy. His father is the mayor, so he doesn't need cold money. Besides, his clothes weren't fit for that job.

"I need to talk to you."

Shit. Why we have to talk about that?

I let him in. David makes himself at home without an invitation. He took off his shoes, his jacket, and took the pizza box to the kitchen. I follow him, waiting for a reaction.

"Go finish your bath. I can wait," he said, casually restraining his authoritative voice, looking at me with his cunning eyes, making my body full of soup look like a French dessert. "Do you have some juice?"

"O-Oranje, o-on the fridge," I gasped. "I-I will be right back."

I ran for the bathroom, jumped in the shower, finished my bath, then I went to my room to change, but he was there too.

"I got bored," he confessed while he was sneaking out through my books and vinyl albums. "Do you mind if I stay here?"

Yes, go back to the kitchen. Better, go back to your own house.

"No, man. It's fine."

I approach my closet, but I didn't fit in, so I had to pretend that I was in the boy's locker room and ignore David's behavior. I reach my underwear, I let the toil get down, and I wear it. The worst was over.

"You have a nice body," David said. "Do you play something?"

"Uh, yeah," said I, sort of out of context, "I used to play basketball with my brother."

"Cool. You're a jock-nerd."

I tried to smile, but I was too uncomfortable, so I just snorted and continued to dress me up.

"Anyway, what do you want to talk about?" I asked, cutting out all that bullshit in our way. "Is it that urgent that you couldn't wait until tomorrow morning?"

"Geez, chill out, bro," David lay down on my bed. "I'm here to make peace. I was a shitty partner in bio today. I saw you making all that work by yourself, and that bitch was bothering me all day long. Sorry about that."

"Don't worry," I panted. "I'm fine now."

"Cool."

Just that? I'm surprised.

"There's one more thing."

Shit. Please, not the dick talk.

"I know you saw her doing," David made the jerk-off movement close to his dick, and all the scene came vividly in my mind again. "I appreciate it if you keep it low. My father is driving me crazy at home. If the school calls, I'm dead."

"We don't have to talk about it," I said. "It's awkward."

David laughed, honestly showing all his glowing teeth to me. His eyes could be mischievous, but the sound of his voice was gentle. Or did I imagine it?

Minutes after David left, I was in my bedroom with an almost full pizza box watching something on Netflix. However, my mind was drifting away, trying to reach David across our neighborhood. He left, but somehow, I still filled him in my bed.

I lay down and let my mind seek for his sight on my sheets. He smelled like a rainy pine forest, tasted -- if could picture --, bitter like a green leaf, but fresher as mint. If his soul was like this forest, so he wasn't a threat as everybody thinks he is. No, he was gentle but sad and alone like a closed cabin in the woods.

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He came crawling into my bedroom like a shadow with claws and dark fur. I could imagine him with red eyes, great fangs, and intense blood. He was there, not just in every corner, but following me -- pursuing something that I wasn't able to understand what it was.

I was afraid to stare at the darkest spots in my bedroom, afraid to see not just shadows but his figure. So I never did. I remained this whole time obscured by ignorance over my crown.

Felted safer to trust only to the five senses. Also, they're more relevant than the sixth one, outside my mind, a sinister place. After all, we can always imagine what we want to.

On the other side, I was hoping he was real. Just for me, and I wasn't thinking too hard. And it came, very close to me. I saw his body in the mirror, like an animal becoming more human, so human that he could speak like one.

"Let me in," he asked, his voice like a thunderstorm. "Let me in."

His voice gave me freezes under my skin, cooled my heart, and stood my lungs. All that feeling was too difficult to resist. That's the reason to not trust the sixth sense: every aspect of the supernatural has the same response, good or evil. Perhaps there's no such thing, just a short concept about authenticity, a cultural theory based on the five senses.

"Let me in."

I couldn't hold myself any longer. If it was the devil, I was ready to sell my soul. However, I could tell that it wasn't. I believed the presence of the devil could crush a person like me. So I was selling my soul for someone lower than the devil but higher than me.

"I do," said I, ready to die.

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Maybe I'm supposed to hurt other people's feelings instead of repeat constantly that I'm a bad person.

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I hate it when you try to be someone that you can't and you're terrible doing it. I feel ashamed when I'm close to you.

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I don't have any friends here and that's what I call a tragedy.

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Sometimes I push hard to get people to understand what I want, what I need and other things that make me comfortable. When it doesn’t come to their attention, I give up, ‘cause I know it is not their business to please me. Then I snap and realize it’s not my job either. So I do what I want to get what I need.

I’m tired of putting people in their way, the way I believe they will find by themselves, to let them achieve what I already saw on them. Fuck this, it’s selfish and maniac. I have good reasons, but it’s unhealthy. People that I care about must live their lives. I don’t have control, I don’t need control, I just need to embrace what’s happening and accept the concept.

I wish I could snap this too, become the ultimate version of me and let people become their own. I don’t need to stop caring, what I need is to stop the mania, the controlling, the moledage. I do this because I want to love the best version of people, not the actual one. What a sick person I am, searching for excuses to continue a looping of relations that I can’t possibly manage. What a crap. But I’m still here, doing my best, doing what I need to do and breathing. Oh, dear, I do breath.

Since it is the first time I’m seeing taking responsibility for something all mine, my vision of this scenario is becoming more focused. I’m not the only one who is doing the same. This mania is in everyone I know. If I have to break the cycle, I will.

For this I have to put a list of things in mind:

Talk what I really like and don’t like about someone else and say that I’m not controlling, I’m unburden;

Don’t please expecting the same move;

Being selfish, not a dick;

For the meantime, these will be my goals.