Sike!
Nope, not even.
Not unless I have like a ten hour block of uninterrupted time.
Noooooooope
Y’all are just going to need to wait.
lol
Sike!
Nope, not even.
Not unless I have like a ten hour block of uninterrupted time.
Noooooooope
Y’all are just going to need to wait.
lol
Oh yeah and ANOTHER thing-
We had a lovely chat. We chatted up a storm tonight and I think we yakked our way to some answers. Good, Tom, good!
Yaaaaaaaay
I loveth the bitch!
I still do. And I’m fucking keeping her here whether she wants to leave or not, because FUCK IT, I’m an evil wizard and you know what, it’s high time I acted like one.
So there!
I had an interesting night just now, filing everything away in regards to Cady’s death.
I learned a lot. It was truly fascinating, and it opened up new doors for me in understanding our relationship and… everything. Me, the past, history, the future. It was incredible, but I’m too tired to go over the details. So I won’t.
Not now, at any rate.
It must be frustrating for my living girlfriends to keep losing out to a dead chick, lol.
Ah, well, tho. You beg to date a necromancer, this is what you get. Beggers can’t be choosers.
Life’s a bitch, lol.
Well, for most, at any rate.
I think I’ll take another hit and climb into bed. My nerves are going all crazy again from withdrawal. Another post, there. Yeesh, I could spend all day blogging I guess.
Yeah, lol.
Be afraid, be verrrrrry afraid! Muhahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
lol
Just to clarify- the “limiter” is a psychological construct of mine, similar to the familiar that I described earlier. It’s a thought process I seem to have created for myself over the years, and which I guess I nurture subconsciously, when I want to hide from the world.
I think it was my way of “fitting in”. A survival mechanism, if you will. A way for me to stay sane as a superhuman in a world of humans.
So it’s like… I don’t need it, anymore.
You see?
Maybe not, lol. I mean, I’m having to explain it even to myself here, lol.
Oooooooh fascinating, lol
Here’s an interesting question I just thought… what if using the limiter doesn’t affect just my power levels? What if it changes my personality, too?
IDK. But… maybe… it does. Maybe.
Weird.
I guess we’ll just have to see.
Hmmn.
No… this is not half. Not even close. I can feel it.
Wow…
Wow.
Jeebus, this is utterly nuts.
So I’ve been building my power back up lately (see post 500, here. Remember that one?) and holy shit, am I strong. I swear I get flabbergasted like every time I do this, but seriously, holy shit, lol. The amount of raw power that my nervous system funnels through me when I really try is just incredible. I mean, there’s no question that I am the most powerful man on Earth, when sheer energy is to be calculated. There really isn’t a question of it, and in fact there doesn’t seem to be any competition, either.
For whatever reason, I’m in a game of my own. And incredibly, I’m not close to my max, yet. I’m about at 50% now, and even here I can cause ripple effects in the space-time continuum. Like, when I “peer” into alternate dimensions? If I crash them together with enough force I can alter the past, here, in verrrry small ways, I think. I mean I’m pretty sure. It’s… quite surreal.
And yeah, this is me at half strength or thereabouts, with a greater probability of it being under half than over, I would think.
Removing the limiter on my power is kind of a scary thing to behold. It dehumanizes me, which is I guess why I tend to shy away from it.
But I mean… there doesn’t seem to be any other way, here.
Yikes, lol.
But… this is what they asked for. So this is what they’re getting.
Hang on for dear life, people. You are going for one hell of a ride whether you like it or not.
I could reeeeeally use your twitter feed right now, Cady. Like, seriously. You have no idea.
sigh…
Ah- one more thing. The idea I just raised there, about talking frankly about suicide making it easier to justify, is one reason why I stopped blogging. I’ll get into that big issue, later. But it was part of it.
Like, I was scared of what I would do if I dared to open up, even to myself. Of what I would do, to me.
It’s scary, it really is. I don’t want to die. I want to live, to be happy and prosperous. And I think I can. I think… I can. Think so.
I hope so.
I don’t know.
I dearly hope so.
But… I really need to get to bed. This is another drug fueled blogging escapade that really needs to stop, like now. I won’t even proof this post, it is what it is.
Good night. I’m safe for now, I think. Don’t worry.
It seems it’s becoming easier and easier for me to talk frankly about suicide. Which is probably a good thing- talking about it is I’ve heard a good way to, I guess, defuse it. Or to tackle what makes it a possibility, or something. I mean, provided the issues raised are dealt with properly.
I hope I hope for my own sake that it becoming easier to talk about isn’t just a prelude to it becoming easier to justify. That would… not be good. I mean, I really have to get over this, or way or another, I guess. I think.
Just imagine- this blog, only more depressing. lol. The mind boggles.
What would that even look like? IDK, but I hope to not find out.
We’ll just have to see.