Wednesday, June 27, 2012


I sit in the luscious room, the heavy curtains drawn back to let the summer sun shine in across the stone floor.  The bed is soft, the blankets thick and detailed.  My clothing is pressed, washed, and smells of lavender.  Once, I would be completely lost in a room like this, but now it is natural to me.
I stand, stop by the large glass panes separating me from the outside world.  I softly unlatch the window and open it slightly, looking out and down at the bustle of people.  They clatter and clamour below me but I’m not listening to them.  Once, I would be completely overwhelmed, but now they are natural to me.
I look across the feet of air between me and the cobbles beneath me.  I wonder what would happen if I were to hurl myself from my window right now.  I wonder if they would come running from the castle opposite.  I wonder if they would know who I was.  This, however—this is most natural to me.  The wondering.  The questions.
I wonder if she would cry.
And though I ask myself this, inside, I think I know the answer.  But I can’t accept it and so I wonder.  I toy with the possibilities.  I know, deep inside, what would happen.  I know.
But if I have any ability to change it, I will.
I straighten my tunic, run a hand through my hair.  I’ll go to the castle, try to see her, but before I go I close the window.  I turn away.  I wouldn’t ever jump.
But that doesn’t keep me from wondering if they would miss me.
Or if they would even remember my name.

That's Hero's most distinctive trait:  wondering, at everything, all of the time.
And I can't help but think most of the time he just knows that things don't turn out right, and maybe that's the reason that he's always playing out scenarios in his head.  And maybe he always knew that things wouldn't turn out, but no matter what he tries to do to change that, nothing he does really changes anything for the better.
And maybe he knew that everything would fall in the end anyway.


This post is actually rather funny because I don't really know how many of you know anything about this story at all, but I'm in a musing mood about it lately and I've got to process it somehow, yes?

Christina Kuri

Sunday, June 17, 2012

But I'd rather speak honestly, because redemption is here

I haven't been here in a while.

My fingers move, creaky and slowly through the dust.  The smell of a faint guilt and heavy negligence hangs in the air.  It's unfamiliar and yet it feels right.  I start slowly, like getting on a bike after 5 years of having my feet planted firmly on the ground, but when I start to pedal it goes a little easier and a little faster and much better than I might have expected if only I don't fall for then I shall never touch the contraption again.

Falling has that effect on me.

I have decided that I feel and reveal too much.  I have determined that sometimes I ought to step back and say Rhett-Butler style that frankly my dear I don't give a damn.  I have concluded that my heart gets involved in things where my hands and brain do not.  I have discovered that I invest myself when I oughtn't.  I have learned that I over analyze and over exaggerate and sometimes I overtly think. Oftentimes, really.

I regret that.

But at the same time, I'll never regret it.  Because it's who I am, and it's what I do, and though it gets me into trouble sometimes often times it doesn't and if I don't feel things then how do I know that I'm still a functional human being and how could I go on and how could I ever find words to describe anything if

if I don't actually break my heart over silly things every once in a while?  If I don't weep over small losses or let myself feel the sting of another's words or laugh at every little thing that I can or love so deeply that it's too much to bear when people let me down?

And I really do care, even when I want to pull a Rhett Butler.  I might not be able to control other people but I can of course control myself and I shall feel with every fiber of my being every emotion that I can to the fullest and I shall not hide my tattered heart on my sleeve and I shall not hide my tears in public and I shall not repent of speaking the way that I feel because it is honest and I shall not speak anything but truth all the days that I live (or at least I shall try very hard to)

Sometimes it's unbearable.

But I shan't apologize for that.

Because everything is, sometimes.

I don't know what I'm trying to say.  I don't know.

I'm only responsible for me, I'm discovering.  And I don't always know what to do and sometimes I make the wrong decisions.

But I'm not going to hate myself for it.

And I hope that when I make mistakes, you can learn to forgive me for it.

Christina Kuri Icarus