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I will never understand why becomeing something, through change or the death of reality is so difficult a thing. All things change one way or the other. Things live, things die...all things. Those creatures bound to immortality change as well, for ideas and views will always remain painfully mortal. We are not static, no matter how we wish to be, So I pose this question: Why does this hurt me so much? I am so torn, between what I know and belive I am, what those around me view me to be and what I actually am. This trinity of identity is tearing me apart. I belive I am a monster, worthless and not worthy of love and to have the Fair desire me. Those around me belive I am a charming, silver tounged devil with potential to please the Fair in anyway. What I actually am? I belive that to the one part of the trinity that eludes me. All I know for sure, is that this year I am changeing. To what I do not know. I do not know if it will be a good change or a bad one. I just know that my gifts are becomeing more accute as are my senses. My hunger and desire for the Fair also increases each day, they are all I can think of. I just want them to be in utmost pleasure. They are so beautiful to me. Deserving of prose and praise. But, I am not what they want, I am not on the List that shows who is desiriable and beautiful. Awareness is such a double edged sword held right over my heart. I do not ask for much, just to see her face before I close my eyes to sleep, to hold her as I dream and to wake up to her beauty. To awaken her with pleasure and whispers of "My Beloved". ....is it to much to ask? I guess I will never understand....

I remember my beginnings. I remember my youth. My reality back then was all holidays and cartoons. If it was not Greyskull it was Snake Mountain. If it was not Cobra it was Joe. Robots wore disguises and inspectors used gadgets. Every day was a chance to experience something new and every night I went to sleep secure in the knowledge that the light will come again. That was a long time ago, when I was still warm. Before my blood betrayed me and reality turned to a numbing cold. Everything changed from there on in. I used to look forward to learning, to being around people, but that to changed. My reality now is nothing but hurt and cold. If it is not crying it is screaming. If is not punching it is cutting. Every single day is something to be dreaded and every night I go to bed wishing not to wake up. That is my reality now, a reality that is cold. I relied on the touch of family. The hugs and kisses were freely given then and received with abandon. Now, if anyone comes near I recoil as if I was a scared animal confronted with fire. The lack of contact has left me cold. I envy so much those around me as they touch and feel the warmth of contact with the Fair. But I realize my place and my place is a place of numbing cold.

Being aware is a scary notion. For along time I was not aware, just existing and hiding. To scared to actually face the light of the world or the touch of the Fair, but I am changing. I am becoming aware of a great many things. Like how cruel life is, how vicious. how with one breadth it will lift you up, but with the other it will swipe you down. It truly seems to me that happiness and love are just unreachable goals set in front of us, so that when we think that we can hold them it hurts all the more. We try to remember past happiness, but it only serves to make our present painful and our future wanting. We look around at those in the deceptive grip of love and closeness and it garners nothing but hurt and anger. Subtle touches and soft kisses, things so freely given to other seem like torture. Example in point, I went out to the movies today and granted the movie was good, but my eyes kept wondering. In the seat in front of me sat a man and woman, she was quiet fair and he did not realize how lucky he was. I would watch in longing horror as she rested her golden head on his shoulder. Then she reached out and held his hand in hers, gentle brushing his hand with her thumb. It was so tender, such an afterthought for both of them. I wish I was not aware of these things, but in turns out I always was. The only difference now is that I have nowhere to hide, my walls have been torn down. I still try to take myself away, to hide from the pain, but voices keep calling me back. I cannot convey to my brothers how much of a outsider I feel like I am. I could be the center of attention, but still feel like I am the farthest point. I am more aware of this now, aware of all my issues. Aware of all my faults, imagined or real. I am sure people who read these are going to think I am depressed or morbid or whatever the hell they want to call me. To them I say this: I am not any of those things, not really....I am just painfully aware.

The more time I explore the world out from behind my wall of glass, I realize that I might not have been prepared for the way these new emotions would effect me. While I use to hide safely in myself I was able to just watch all the things I could never have be freely given to others, but now my walls are down. I have no shield, no safe house. I am just assaulted from all sides with years of pent up emotion and want; I am choking on it. I still look around myself with envious eyes; I still see those around me treated with the kind of affection that I desire and the kind of affection I need. Alas, I can not change. What I was is too strong and what I wish to be seems so far away. Unattainable, like trying to touch the horizon. I see it, but it is always moving away from me. Maybe it is because I was forcibly taken from my hiding place, my walls murdered by good intentions and love. If I had my choice I would have rotted behind my walls, a slow death, but it would have ended. I would never have known the touch of the Fair; the thread of Hope would have never poisoned me and I would have just drowned on my tears and faded away, but no. I made the glorious mistake of choosing my friends wisely and surrounding myself with those who wish me happiness.....oops. They showed me the wonderful softness of the Fair, they instilled in me the Hope that I am not the worthless monster I think I am and now my tears flow from my eyes and do not build up. They gave me the chance to take the chance on love and for once I was happy, but like most things in my life, the happiness was just there so when it is raped and taken from me it will hurt more. I should have known, but I was so curious. Curiosity, like my darker nature, will be the end of me one day. Some people say that it is better to have love and lost then never to have loved at all and to them I say, ignorance is bliss. I just had to learn this lessen and it is killing me. I was not prepared for these emotions, they hurt with more pain then I have known. I was given a puzzle with no reference. I have the pieces, but I do not yet know where they go or even what the picture will be. Lessons I should have learned during my younger years are being thrust upon me now. It was so simple when I was hiding, but I can not go back. I can not even bleed myself anymore, it shames me now that I am in the open. What I was and what I wish to be are fighting over what I am and like most war, it is taking it’s toll. I am not quite sure who the casualty will be yet, but we will see....