'something secret' approximately 70 miles, in any direction, is in no way a 'solid lead'. would you like the exact math for the square mileage to be covered in a ring between 60 and 80 miles out? it's a lot.
or is there new intel that turns this half-remembered overheard scrap of a red herring into an actual solid lead?
well. there's one farm, really, and konoha's in charge of it. she doesn't really report to me but i have (i think) made clear that she should reach out to me if she has any problems that need solving. i would assume that she's reporting any outcroppings of katalyth, like we all are (right? i mean i'm not always a good little soldier but i have actually been doing that) if we encounter them.
there were a few terra-types who were planning to do some farm-related creation elsewhere, but none of them are actually reporting to me about location and honestly the food they source is ... well at least some of it's going to tifa, some of it might be going to the city?
i'm really a lot less in charge of this whole project than you might think.
You don't think it's relevant to anything that the radioactive, invasive substance can communicate its song? It doesn't stop once it's started. It isn't like the effects of being around it for a little while.
Felwinter stands in the doorway of Gojo's bedroom, announcing himself even though he knows it's not necessary. (He's yet to be entirely comfortable with the idea of being perceived at all times, and so chooses to avoid thinking about it as much as possible.) That said, he doesn't wait to be invited in, striding across the room to set the tray he's carrying down on the bedside table. On it are two cups of tea (one of which he takes for himself) and a slice of impossibly decadant cake he'd brought home from Kelesis specifically for Gojo. He learned fast.
"I found some new blends in Kelesis, so I thought I'd bring one back," he offers after a moment. "It's not bad."
Certainly better than what they had been able to find in Karteria, though that wasn't saying much.
Perching at the foot of the bed, he eyes the book Gojo was reading with mild curiosity, though doesn't bother to ask about it. His mind is elsewhere, which is perhaps evident in the way his thumb traces the rim of his teacup, back and forth, back and forth, restless and distracted... or the way he doesn't seem to hear a thing Gojo says. His gaze drifts away to the window, where it settles, unfocused.
It's funny. No matter how many times he's been over the questions he wants to ask in his head, finding the words to voice them is difficult.
"Satoru," he says again, interrupting whatever chatter Gojo had launched into. "What do you— No. What is a soul, in your opinion?"
Satoru tosses the book aside carelessly when Felwinter appears to offer other entertainments. It's a book on botany in the local region and he feels like he's dying of boredom. He hates botany. Plants are good for eating (sometimes) and for dating (apparently), but he really has no interest in any other aspect about them. But he does want to be better at foraging, and he does generally just like learning stuff. He just doesn't like learning botany. Impressing Choso with plant knowledge is just absolutely never going to work out for him.
Brightening as he's offered cake, Satoru accepts the plate happily, shifting to sit cross-legged so that he can sit forward and pay attention while he eats. The Kelesian tea is better, though it's still terrible, and Satoru comments as much. He never thought of himself as having strong opinions on tea, but that was because he comes from a tea-growing country. Most of the time he could just count on having access to good tea, wherever he went. Karterian tea is horrible.
Fel's question is an interesting one, and Satoru makes a thoughtful noise as he considers it. He sets down his plate for a moment, lost in thought, and starts to cross his arms--but only one arm goes across. The other hand reaches up for his own throat, some kind of subconscious motion, maybe self-soothing. His hand tightens--squeezes hard--and then he realizes what he's doing and drops both hands immediately back into his lap.
"Hm. Interesting question. A significant portion of it is a matter of definition. Different cultures define that in different ways. The ancient Greeks--do you know Greek? Do you know English? Never mind. Irrelevant. The word ... spiros, I think? The root part of it is spir, anyway, and it shows up in a huge amount of English words." Satoru being a Greek nerd who speaks English. "Spirit, aspire, inspire--it means breath. This is the case for a lot of--especially ancient--cultures. The soul is the breath, and the soul left the body with the final exhale."
He leans forward, raps a knuckle against Fel's breathless chest, willing to bet that this is the actual root of his boyfriend's question.
"By which definition, babe, sorry, you're out. But." He lifts a finger. This lecture is far from over. "There's a concept in Japanese philosophy which is called shin-jin ichinyo, literally meaning 'mind and body as one.' Instead of the dualism of Western philosophy, where consciousness is seen as something separate from the body, shin-jin ichinyo posits that the soul is the body, and the body is the soul. Your thoughts, feelings, and identity exist not just in the mind or heart, but throughout your body. The body shapes the soul as much as the soul shapes the body."
Sorry if you didn't want the entire lecture, Fel, because you're getting it. "Shortly before coming here, I encountered two curses with relevant abilities. One of them--and this one I got the explanation second-hand from my student--posited that the soul existed before the body and the body was formed according to the ... blueprint, I suppose, of the soul. So that this curse could manipulate the shape of the body by warping the victim's soul. However, the other curse had an ability that seemed to conflict with that, wherein the memories, emotions, abilities and instincts of the body remained within the body even after the curse had removed the brain, implying--as with shin-jin ichinyo--that the soul was infused throughout the body.
"But I really wanted to slaughter both of them, they were assholes, so let's not dwell on them too much." Satoru wrinkles his nose, but he finally takes enough of a breath to reach for his tea, though he doesn't yet resume drinking it. He thinks back to what Fel had told him--human brains were installed in 'Exo' bodies, but also that Exos had no organic parts. It was not the physical brain inside the metal chassis. "What I think is most relevant in our current circumstance is the question of the immortal soul, which is generally the aspect of a person which passes to the afterlife while the mortal body is left behind. In Buddhism, this is the part which reincarnates into a new body and a new existence, but is still considered to be the same person, and who often will recognize, resonate with, and share threads of fate with other souls who it has encountered in previous lives.
"Given that I strongly theorize--as previously discussed--that the Augmented are all dead and this may very well be an afterlife, then," he points a finger back and forth between Fel and himself. "We are our souls. I am much more confident in the belief that my soul exists here in this place than I am in my belief that this is my original body that was transferred here. Which would also explain the loss of so many of my powers, but that's a different topic. Would you agree with that premise? How confident are you that you are the Felwinter who died in that battle, and, separately, how confident are you that that is the same body--chassis?--that was damaged in that battle? My opinion and belief is that the very fact that you are here is proof that you have just as much of a soul as I do."
He should have known an answer from Gojo would be less than concise, but it's still... a lot. And none of it feels like it applies to him. He stares down at his tea with his eyes narrowed into lines, thinking over it all. Debating how to answer the questions.
"When a Lightbearer dies, our Ghost recreates our body from scratch. You can't heal a body which has been crushed or incinerated or disintegrated," he shakes his head slowly. "Sometimes my Ghost found it easier to start over even with lesser wounds. Exos are... complex. Difficult to fix. So she'd have me shoot myself. I've died more times than I can count. We had to be dead in order to become Lightbearers at all.
"But I don't remember dying before I came here. Not in the way you mean. Not my Final Death. If my Ghost were dead, my Light would be gone, and as long as my Ghost is alive..."
She could, theoretically, bring him back again. Even if it was only to a situation from which there was no escape. A death he knows is coming whether it has already or not. None of them were walking out of that bunker alive.
"To answer your question: Whether this is the same body or not means very little for me."
It's also not really the point, but that's... Well, he's not entirely sure how to bring it up.
Edited (repeated word also tenses) 2025-07-14 21:27 (UTC)
Satoru looks startled right from the start of this, at the thought of bodies being reconstructed from being disintegrated, and he gives a little twitch at the prospect of Fel having to execute his own body for that purpose. He's a little surprised at himself for the squeamishness, but Satoru's sensitivity to body horror has risen significantly after his encounter with Mahito's creations and his very personal experiences with being a human experiment here.
He sets his cake aside for now, preferring to savor it once they've moved past upsetting topics.
"So the question is indeed about whether you have a soul," Satoru says, voice quiet. He'd guessed as much, but Fel has now confirmed it. "All right, answer me this. So you told me--if I remember correctly--that Exos were built to house human brains, but also that Exos have no organic parts. Therefore, a human brain has to be ... scanned? In order to be uploaded into Exo hardware? So that begs the question--and this is a popular topic in fiction about transhumanism--is the human soul transmitted in that process? And even if it is, you're something different, so ..." Satoru's brilliant, tactical mind follows the logic and connects the dots: If Fel had also existed in a separate body, maybe as an alien entity, and been transferred into the android chassis, then he could be assumed to have as much as a soul as the humans who were transferred. In which case they'd be discussing what happens to a soul, not what the nature of a soul is. But Fel doesn't talk like the question of the transmission--or resurrection--is relevant at all. It's not why he's asking.
"Because you weren't transmitted from some other body," Satoru concludes, quiet but certain, gaze steady on Fel's face. "You weren't ever something else. You were created an Exo." He's pretty sure that implies an AI, and yet he doesn't feel fully confident that he understands Exo technology or magic enough to fix the concept on robot brain. A created entity, whatever that means for Exos. "If we assume that humans have souls by default, then you have some doubts as to whether the process that created you included the creation of a soul."
Felwinter waits in silence while Gojo works through the logic puzzle that is his existence. For the second time. And it's only because that first time Gojo had been so unconcerned about him not being human that he feels comfortable speaking to him about this at all.
And there it is. He lifts his head to meet Gojo's eyes, in defiance of the terrible, deep-rooted fear that shudders through his frame. His fingers twitch against the teacup like they're desperate to reach for a weapon, or for his Light. But there's no need for that, he tells himself. Not here, not now. Not with Satoru. He has to allow himself to trust.
It's difficult.
"An AI created by an AI," he says finally, and even his usually flat tone seems taut. "I don't think there's any question of me having a soul."
After all, Aodh had said as much, hadn't he? There was no hiding it from someone who could see souls. But Aodh had claimed he also had no soul, and yet he was flesh and blood. He lived and breathed. So what is the point of them? What difference do they make?
Felwinter looks away.
"But what does that mean, in the end? Is a soul necessary? Does it matter whether someone has one or not?"
do they reckon that they shall be able to sufficiently cure their world of its afflictions through such lax mobility of the forces they've brought here?
there are no significant threats here. none such as would require a power such as mine (which they then handicapped, so why they want an oversexed housecat when they could have had a godling with celestial powers? unknown.)
what they think they're doing inviting a power such as *yours* i cannot begin to fathom
but no, so far we've really done nothing useful other than some scouting missions. i spearheaded the project that reconnected kelesis.
i would desperately love to be able to do anything actually useful. but no. we're given no information, no access, and no missions.
there's no reason to the selection of augmented they've brought, no reason to the selection of natural souls installed, no attempt to organize us for greater purpose. it's maddening.
they shall only incur disorder and unrest if they are unable to give purpose to their claims of an impending, if not urgent, threat. [ it doesn't sound all that bad of an outcome to him though. ] very well. that is all i needed to know.
[ The two souls continue to wrestle, grapple, flirt, and maul each other. The corruption is starting to creep in, painful and liberating in ways Suguru cannot comprehend. ]
Satoru?
[ His voice is soft, carrying a hint of yearning in it and traces of affection as always when he says the strong one's name. And Geto hears it too., switches to text because it's too vulnerable for his liking. ]
How does your next life look like? Is it going to be a seeding or a harvesting one?
[ Borrowing from the neighbouring cultures comes easy when their beliefs seem more forgiving and easier to stomach than their harsh jujutsu customs. ]
[ The sound of that voice certainly makes Satoru sit up and pay attention, cheeks flushing and chills prickling down his spine.
But he has to stop and think about the words, a categorization he hadn't really applied to his resolution of 'let the old self die, become someone new'. Who is the new Satoru? He hasn't fully figured that out yet.
Still, there isn't all that long of a pause. ]
Philosophically: seeding, I think.
More literally it seems to be me recruiting and motivating volunteers to do the actual seeding and harvesting while I nap.
It got mentioned by now that I'm a literal farm cat these days, right?
[ Now that makes him laugh a little. The mightiest sorcerer turned farm cat. ]
That certainly sounds like a seeding cat. One with quite the harvest to look forward to as well. Will you know how to enjoy the cup that overrunneth too?
Some days I think so--I have the coziest house now, Suguru. All sunlight and plants, shelves of books and soft chairs to curl up in. Friends who look out for me, who scold me to take care of myself and who put food in front of me so I remember to eat.
And I really am immensely proud of that farm. Konoha's a good one, and never seems bothered by my total lack of labor while she's hard at work hauling and watering. So it's a relaxing place to be, no expectation on me to do anything, but I feel like I belong.
And yet I keep feeling yearning and greedy. I keep pushing myself too hard, making reckless decisions out of restless dissatisfaction. Picking quarrels and testing the strength of the promises I've made, like I'm trying to see how much weight they can take before they shatter.
I think I'd push the cup that overrunneth off the counter just to see it smash.
[ Geto can hear Satoru's voice, the cadence, the pitch, emotion shining through the parts close to the farm cat's heart. His own heart aches, a tender pain, at the thought that Gojo may have finally found his people. ]
You've built a home and a family. I'm so happy for you.
I know the feeling of greed and desire for chaos too. My mind was trained to be at war at all times so I didn't know how to handle the prospect of peace. I couldn't, wouldn't trust it for the longest time, but.
It took me a few years, but when I finally allowed myself the luxury of trusting my family, knowing it was safe to relax around them, it was the most beautiful thing.
You may not have to take as long as me to get to that point.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
text | un: valravn
Whatever this secret is, it's not there.
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1) There are ever so many secrets, don't get fixated on just one, they're lying to us in LOADS of ways
2) The swamps are enormous and we have only just started
3) There are plenty of ways to camouflage things in wild territory, especially in swamp land
4) Okay actually which secret are we talking about though
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Wherever it is that all the scientists and engineers went. 70 miles out.
I know there's more going on than just that, but it's the most solid lead we have.
[It's anything but solid, as distorted as it's become through this game of telephone.]
If it were somewhere in the swamps, they wouldn't have so many people crawling through them. Sooner or later someone would find something.
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or is there new intel that turns this half-remembered overheard scrap of a red herring into an actual solid lead?
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If it's too much for you I can take Set.
Or go alone.
[We're not addressing Gojo's other point.]
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text, un: sextus
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[ huh, that's a good question ]
well. there's one farm, really, and konoha's in charge of it. she doesn't really report to me but i have (i think) made clear that she should reach out to me if she has any problems that need solving. i would assume that she's reporting any outcroppings of katalyth, like we all are (right? i mean i'm not always a good little soldier but i have actually been doing that) if we encounter them.
there were a few terra-types who were planning to do some farm-related creation elsewhere, but none of them are actually reporting to me about location and honestly the food they source is ... well at least some of it's going to tifa, some of it might be going to the city?
i'm really a lot less in charge of this whole project than you might think.
i connect people and solve problems.
so. yes?
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We're not completely immune to that radiation. It will mutate us the way it mutated the people found out there. I'm not sure how widely that's known.
And [how to broach... this next weird thing...] well, it sings?
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ummmm possibly
i'm not keeping close tabs on anyone, like i said
but yea brickston said something about it singing
uh how is that relevant tho
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later in the month (idk time is fake)
Felwinter stands in the doorway of Gojo's bedroom, announcing himself even though he knows it's not necessary. (He's yet to be entirely comfortable with the idea of being perceived at all times, and so chooses to avoid thinking about it as much as possible.) That said, he doesn't wait to be invited in, striding across the room to set the tray he's carrying down on the bedside table. On it are two cups of tea (one of which he takes for himself) and a slice of impossibly decadant cake he'd brought home from Kelesis specifically for Gojo. He learned fast.
"I found some new blends in Kelesis, so I thought I'd bring one back," he offers after a moment. "It's not bad."
Certainly better than what they had been able to find in Karteria, though that wasn't saying much.
Perching at the foot of the bed, he eyes the book Gojo was reading with mild curiosity, though doesn't bother to ask about it. His mind is elsewhere, which is perhaps evident in the way his thumb traces the rim of his teacup, back and forth, back and forth, restless and distracted... or the way he doesn't seem to hear a thing Gojo says. His gaze drifts away to the window, where it settles, unfocused.
It's funny. No matter how many times he's been over the questions he wants to ask in his head, finding the words to voice them is difficult.
"Satoru," he says again, interrupting whatever chatter Gojo had launched into. "What do you— No. What is a soul, in your opinion?"
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Brightening as he's offered cake, Satoru accepts the plate happily, shifting to sit cross-legged so that he can sit forward and pay attention while he eats. The Kelesian tea is better, though it's still terrible, and Satoru comments as much. He never thought of himself as having strong opinions on tea, but that was because he comes from a tea-growing country. Most of the time he could just count on having access to good tea, wherever he went. Karterian tea is horrible.
Fel's question is an interesting one, and Satoru makes a thoughtful noise as he considers it. He sets down his plate for a moment, lost in thought, and starts to cross his arms--but only one arm goes across. The other hand reaches up for his own throat, some kind of subconscious motion, maybe self-soothing. His hand tightens--squeezes hard--and then he realizes what he's doing and drops both hands immediately back into his lap.
"Hm. Interesting question. A significant portion of it is a matter of definition. Different cultures define that in different ways. The ancient Greeks--do you know Greek? Do you know English? Never mind. Irrelevant. The word ... spiros, I think? The root part of it is spir, anyway, and it shows up in a huge amount of English words." Satoru being a Greek nerd who speaks English. "Spirit, aspire, inspire--it means breath. This is the case for a lot of--especially ancient--cultures. The soul is the breath, and the soul left the body with the final exhale."
He leans forward, raps a knuckle against Fel's breathless chest, willing to bet that this is the actual root of his boyfriend's question.
"By which definition, babe, sorry, you're out. But." He lifts a finger. This lecture is far from over. "There's a concept in Japanese philosophy which is called shin-jin ichinyo, literally meaning 'mind and body as one.' Instead of the dualism of Western philosophy, where consciousness is seen as something separate from the body, shin-jin ichinyo posits that the soul is the body, and the body is the soul. Your thoughts, feelings, and identity exist not just in the mind or heart, but throughout your body. The body shapes the soul as much as the soul shapes the body."
Sorry if you didn't want the entire lecture, Fel, because you're getting it. "Shortly before coming here, I encountered two curses with relevant abilities. One of them--and this one I got the explanation second-hand from my student--posited that the soul existed before the body and the body was formed according to the ... blueprint, I suppose, of the soul. So that this curse could manipulate the shape of the body by warping the victim's soul. However, the other curse had an ability that seemed to conflict with that, wherein the memories, emotions, abilities and instincts of the body remained within the body even after the curse had removed the brain, implying--as with shin-jin ichinyo--that the soul was infused throughout the body.
"But I really wanted to slaughter both of them, they were assholes, so let's not dwell on them too much." Satoru wrinkles his nose, but he finally takes enough of a breath to reach for his tea, though he doesn't yet resume drinking it. He thinks back to what Fel had told him--human brains were installed in 'Exo' bodies, but also that Exos had no organic parts. It was not the physical brain inside the metal chassis. "What I think is most relevant in our current circumstance is the question of the immortal soul, which is generally the aspect of a person which passes to the afterlife while the mortal body is left behind. In Buddhism, this is the part which reincarnates into a new body and a new existence, but is still considered to be the same person, and who often will recognize, resonate with, and share threads of fate with other souls who it has encountered in previous lives.
"Given that I strongly theorize--as previously discussed--that the Augmented are all dead and this may very well be an afterlife, then," he points a finger back and forth between Fel and himself. "We are our souls. I am much more confident in the belief that my soul exists here in this place than I am in my belief that this is my original body that was transferred here. Which would also explain the loss of so many of my powers, but that's a different topic. Would you agree with that premise? How confident are you that you are the Felwinter who died in that battle, and, separately, how confident are you that that is the same body--chassis?--that was damaged in that battle? My opinion and belief is that the very fact that you are here is proof that you have just as much of a soul as I do."
cw: suicide mention
"When a Lightbearer dies, our Ghost recreates our body from scratch. You can't heal a body which has been crushed or incinerated or disintegrated," he shakes his head slowly. "Sometimes my Ghost found it easier to start over even with lesser wounds. Exos are... complex. Difficult to fix. So she'd have me shoot myself. I've died more times than I can count. We had to be dead in order to become Lightbearers at all.
"But I don't remember dying before I came here. Not in the way you mean. Not my Final Death. If my Ghost were dead, my Light would be gone, and as long as my Ghost is alive..."
She could, theoretically, bring him back again. Even if it was only to a situation from which there was no escape. A death he knows is coming whether it has already or not. None of them were walking out of that bunker alive.
"To answer your question: Whether this is the same body or not means very little for me."
It's also not really the point, but that's... Well, he's not entirely sure how to bring it up.
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He sets his cake aside for now, preferring to savor it once they've moved past upsetting topics.
"So the question is indeed about whether you have a soul," Satoru says, voice quiet. He'd guessed as much, but Fel has now confirmed it. "All right, answer me this. So you told me--if I remember correctly--that Exos were built to house human brains, but also that Exos have no organic parts. Therefore, a human brain has to be ... scanned? In order to be uploaded into Exo hardware? So that begs the question--and this is a popular topic in fiction about transhumanism--is the human soul transmitted in that process? And even if it is, you're something different, so ..." Satoru's brilliant, tactical mind follows the logic and connects the dots: If Fel had also existed in a separate body, maybe as an alien entity, and been transferred into the android chassis, then he could be assumed to have as much as a soul as the humans who were transferred. In which case they'd be discussing what happens to a soul, not what the nature of a soul is. But Fel doesn't talk like the question of the transmission--or resurrection--is relevant at all. It's not why he's asking.
"Because you weren't transmitted from some other body," Satoru concludes, quiet but certain, gaze steady on Fel's face. "You weren't ever something else. You were created an Exo." He's pretty sure that implies an AI, and yet he doesn't feel fully confident that he understands Exo technology or magic enough to fix the concept on robot brain. A created entity, whatever that means for Exos. "If we assume that humans have souls by default, then you have some doubts as to whether the process that created you included the creation of a soul."
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And there it is. He lifts his head to meet Gojo's eyes, in defiance of the terrible, deep-rooted fear that shudders through his frame. His fingers twitch against the teacup like they're desperate to reach for a weapon, or for his Light. But there's no need for that, he tells himself. Not here, not now. Not with Satoru. He has to allow himself to trust.
It's difficult.
"An AI created by an AI," he says finally, and even his usually flat tone seems taut. "I don't think there's any question of me having a soul."
After all, Aodh had said as much, hadn't he? There was no hiding it from someone who could see souls. But Aodh had claimed he also had no soul, and yet he was flesh and blood. He lived and breathed. So what is the point of them? What difference do they make?
Felwinter looks away.
"But what does that mean, in the end? Is a soul necessary? Does it matter whether someone has one or not?"
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@aodh
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there have been plenty of requests or suggestions for missions that augmented have been willing to take on for pay.
assign, non-optional, experiments that we get knocked out and dragged to if we don't show up willingly? about every other month.
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there are no significant threats here. none such as would require a power such as mine (which they then handicapped, so why they want an oversexed housecat when they could have had a godling with celestial powers? unknown.)
what they think they're doing inviting a power such as *yours* i cannot begin to fathom
but no, so far we've really done nothing useful other than some scouting missions. i spearheaded the project that reconnected kelesis.
i would desperately love to be able to do anything actually useful. but no. we're given no information, no access, and no missions.
there's no reason to the selection of augmented they've brought, no reason to the selection of natural souls installed, no attempt to organize us for greater purpose. it's maddening.
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they shall only incur disorder and unrest if they are unable to give purpose to their claims of an impending, if not urgent, threat. [ it doesn't sound all that bad of an outcome to him though. ] very well. that is all i needed to know.
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voice then text
Satoru?
[ His voice is soft, carrying a hint of yearning in it and traces of affection as always when he says the strong one's name. And Geto hears it too., switches to text because it's too vulnerable for his liking. ]
How does your next life look like?
Is it going to be a seeding or a harvesting one?
[ Borrowing from the neighbouring cultures comes easy when their beliefs seem more forgiving and easier to stomach than their harsh jujutsu customs. ]
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But he has to stop and think about the words, a categorization he hadn't really applied to his resolution of 'let the old self die, become someone new'. Who is the new Satoru? He hasn't fully figured that out yet.
Still, there isn't all that long of a pause. ]
Philosophically: seeding, I think.
More literally it seems to be me recruiting and motivating volunteers to do the actual seeding and harvesting while I nap.
It got mentioned by now that I'm a literal farm cat these days, right?
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That certainly sounds like a seeding cat.
One with quite the harvest to look forward to as well.
Will you know how to enjoy the cup that overrunneth too?
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Some days I think so--I have the coziest house now, Suguru. All sunlight and plants, shelves of books and soft chairs to curl up in. Friends who look out for me, who scold me to take care of myself and who put food in front of me so I remember to eat.
And I really am immensely proud of that farm. Konoha's a good one, and never seems bothered by my total lack of labor while she's hard at work hauling and watering. So it's a relaxing place to be, no expectation on me to do anything, but I feel like I belong.
And yet I keep feeling yearning and greedy. I keep pushing myself too hard, making reckless decisions out of restless dissatisfaction. Picking quarrels and testing the strength of the promises I've made, like I'm trying to see how much weight they can take before they shatter.
I think I'd push the cup that overrunneth off the counter just to see it smash.
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You've built a home and a family. I'm so happy for you.
I know the feeling of greed and desire for chaos too. My mind was trained to be at war at all times so I didn't know how to handle the prospect of peace.
I couldn't, wouldn't trust it for the longest time, but.
It took me a few years, but when I finally allowed myself the luxury of trusting my family, knowing it was safe to relax around them, it was the most beautiful thing.
You may not have to take as long as me to get to that point.
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