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 Posted: Thu Oct 13, 2016 11:13 am
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“’I do not mean to be sentimental about suffering - enough is certainly as good as a feast - but people who cannot suffer can never grow up, can never discover who zey are. Zat man who is forced each day to snatch his manhood, his identity, hot of ze fire of human cruelty zat rages to destroy it knows, if he survives his effort, and even if he does not survive it, somesing about himself and human life zat no school on ears’ - and, indeed, no church - can teach.’ It is amazing how a race of people so predisposed to receif’e destruction and dispossession can, so eloquently, find some semblance of wors’ in what he has endured, is it not? It truly requires a resilience forged in a crucible, not a heart’. Conversely, interesting it still is zat we would never choose to apply it to ourselfs, zat doing so constitutes heresy for ze simple understanding zat pain is bad by virtue of feeling ugly, and happiness should be sought at all times.
„But ze evidence is everywhere, explored in all manner of situations. Obserf’e:
‚A slap in ze face is more effectif‘ zan ten lectures. it makes you understand very quickly.’
‚I sink we ought to read only ze kind of books zat wound or stab us. If ze book we’re reading doesn’t wake us up wis‘ a blow to ze head, what are we reading for? So zat it will make us happy, as you write? Good Lord, we would be happy precisely if we had no books, and ze kind of books zat make us happy are ze kind we could write ourselfs if we had to. But we need books zat affect us like a disaster, zat grief’ us deeply, like ze deas’ of someone we loved more zan ourselfs, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be ze axe for ze frozen sea wis’in us.’
‚9:22, personal note: When I was a little kid my Mutter told me not to stare into ze sun, so once when I was six, I did. At first ze brightness was overwhelming, but I had seen zat before. I kept looking, forcing myself not to blink, and zen ze brightness began to dissolf‘. My pupils shrank to pinholes and everysing came into focus and for a moment I understood.’
„Zese are my premises, Alexis, my assumptions. It is proof zat cannot be dissuaded for in its nature zere is no objectif’ sum, no ordered difference - no equilibrium equation because ze human mind is not predisposed to sink in such terms. We sink from chaos, and so we must be treated.
„Your first task - build a fire.“ Alois settled, then, against the long, willowing birches deep inside the forest. The first dregs of autumn swept across the ground in whimsical breezes, toyed into dust devils that never found visibility. „You know how to do zat much, do you not?“
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Posted: Mon Oct 17, 2016 9:09 am
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Alexis was, with obvious difficulty, trying to focus in on what Alois was saying and failing. Their fingers intertwined and twisted, rocking against each other in rhythm, nails bitten down to the quick some time ago and slowly regrowing. They knew this was important, they knew - but it was so hard to focus, when all they were doing was listening, nothing to occupy their hands or keep their mind from wandering.
But that was why they were here. Alois could -- he could make them better. He was going to. (He had to. If he didn't, none of this would be worth it.)
So when Alois mentioned 'fire', Alexis' thoughts came to a screeching halt, their face momentarily going white as their fingers stilled - and then went back to idle twisting, visibly confused. "...Sorry, yeah -- I know how to build a fire, 'course. Don't - don't know what that was about, I just...thought of somethin'. You gonna stand over my shoulder the entire time?"
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Posted: Sun Oct 23, 2016 9:45 pm
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"I'm tryin' to pay attention, okay," Alexis snapped, flushing in embarrassment - not so much surprised from being called out, but angry at themself that they had to be (it's okay, this is what they're here for, they need to swallow their ******** pride). "I know you don't believe me, people don't, but I'm trying to listen to you! It's just -- it's hard!" Their nails pushed white crescents into their palms, blunt enough to leave nothing but rapidly fading marks, sharp enough to let things sting for a second.
It didn't matter. They'd be good. They would.
Alexis pulled a lighter out of their back pocket, fingers oddly precise, and rolled it back and forth in their hand taking care not to light it - standing up with half-bent knees, starting to look around for valid sources of kindling -- they'd done it a few times, as a kid, playing pretend in the forest with their brother and burning their fingers when they didn't know better - but - they'd. Stopped, last year. Trying to put a finger on why made their skull hurt -- so they didn't. Sometimes things weren't meant to be.
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Posted: Wed Oct 26, 2016 7:36 pm
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"Holy s**t, shut up," Alexis muttered, sulkily, under their breath, focusing on the debris littering the floor of the woods. There were sticks, dry branches, things unusable covering things of purpose -- it would do. It wasn't like they were practicing to become a hermit, or a cryptid, or any such thing of little consequence.
When their fingers clicked the lighter to make a spark, one they would fan into a flame, for a second their hands shook and their eyes went vacant-wide -- and then it was...strange, maybe, but they were fine. It was small, but Alexis knew how to make a fire; without Alois rushing them, they might have been able to make something good. As it was, it was merely decent.
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