004

[brokenalbatross.livejournal.com]

She was sleeping again. With her eyes open.

It's lonely in the dark. Because there isn't anything but. The storms are raging, and she doesn't want to sleep again.

Even if your brains aren't your own, it wouldn't be smart to worsen the social disorder. Impaired functioning in an admittedly abnormal society is non-negotiable. Not incapable of being processed, but difficult. At least 66.7% more difficult to function at society's level of normalcy.

She requires company.

Comments

[wilykatzd.livejournal.com]

Who're you talking about, there?

[brokenalbatross.livejournal.com]

The only one I can be talking about.

[wilykatzd.livejournal.com]

Which is whom?

[brokenalbatross.livejournal.com]

The girl at the book. Writing letters to you now.

[trialbyillusion.livejournal.com]

[Written quickly, rather messy cursive] If you wait long enough, light shows up in the dark. The only true dark is the dark inside and only a few ever go far enough to see that. The storms pass, the light is there. It's a fair show of inevitability, really. A storm isn't a storm if it doesn't come and go. Nothing to be compared with otherwise.

Still. It's never worth sleeping in the light.

Social disorder is social perception. Those who go elsewhere defy it. All are abnormal so impaired is a weak term meant for false reassuring and false blame. Let it function as it will, empty or full. It will straighten itself out. Od uyo elef ti¿

[brokenalbatross.livejournal.com]

No, it'll burn your eyes through the lids. Especially after you've been taken by the shadows.

And yet it still impairs one's ability to function according to standards, placed by the masses who share one perception. Difficult to differentiate here. Too many free minds.

[trialbyillusion.livejournal.com]

Have you been taken?

Standards are too often replaced anyway. It shouldn't matter. It's that much more knowledge when they all speak with a different voice.

[meticulousmind.livejournal.com]

. . .good reasoning. It's growing chaotic within the social disorder. The flutter of a butterfly's wing will not go unnoticed, but survival to perservere is a neccesity for harmony.

[brokenalbatross.livejournal.com]

Chaos and butterflies. Making up a sentence written in the pool of it all. Harmony is a myth. Only achieved fully in music. And that's all so relative.

[meticulousmind.livejournal.com]

Everything is relative. Constructing a sentence drowns itself into the dark pool and then it whirls away at the sandy bottom thus words are everything, relative, then nothing. Harmony is myth therefore a collective conscious of a dream. Music can be a cacophony to untrained ears.

[[OOC: They can talk like this all day and go nowhere. XDDD]]

[fadeto-gray.livejournal.com]

Are you alone too? I can't sleep either. It's so hard, and I hate being alone...

[magus-of-fealty.livejournal.com]

Miss? You seem troubled.