This is -my- journal, and I don't want it locked. I don't give a damn what you miserable peons that choose to act like children think - this is me. Deal with it.
~
"Flow through the endless sea of time, an eternal ray of light, leave my mortal shape behind..."
Lost in time. A feeling that, perhaps, echoes down through each millennia, each generation, the "chosen" few who, at times, walk alone through the darkened path of the human spirit. Haunted - or haunting themselves - praying that on the morrow, the treacherous mist will clear and the storms of the ages will have bleached the rocks clean of the darkest fears of the soul. A tempestuous terrain, to be sure - and so few have the courage to endure the rain given to them, while others have prayed in vain and sorrow for that very same rain to drench the painful drought within - and without - them. Does one such as this, a destiny-born spirit, young and old in its time, dare to open their eyes and stand in the middle of the tempest, holding their hands outstretched to the black, unforgiving heavens, staring into the blinding, freezing rain, past the unfortunate choices made for them, into the shattered, restless future? To bleed for eternity from wounds inflicted by time itself; for all our wisdom, the insides of each mortal thusly marked by fate have been rended to nothing but raw nerve.
But it is with that nerve that they prosper - grief burned into their souls the moment their spirit is borne from the earth - from this wealth of depth and wisdom comes purpose. Purpose - the defining moment in one's life when they begin to question - why them, why now, and dear God, what for?
And thusly, the fated slip between the cracks in the very fabric of the universe. A slow, unnoticeable descent into the dark embrace of eternity - for is that not the meaning of the lives of those lost in - lost to? - time? Unseen until far too late, when the fated path through a cold abyss takes them to the very edge of time. And this, yes - this is the true moment where choice begins. Perhaps they were not given a choice of their perpetual destiny, but as they look across the crystalline sea of eternity, the stillness of the frozen tempest calms, soothes aching, burning, raw nerves - the very souls of those lost in time. And now?
Now is the time that shatters the ice or binds them to it for eternity. Do you stare into that endless crystal ocean and weep, closing your eyes to the world and falling into oblivion forever?
Or do you contemplate the sparkling, frozen lights that dance beneath the ice, finding beauty in defeat? Giving in to the fate assigned to you, though resigned to fight the entirety of the path before you? The eternal winter may indeed form its ice-shard shell over their minds, but a seed of hope lives encased within forever.
"And when I cry, it's joy inside; a wicked smile for all the tears I hide; it hurts to hold all the pain I feel; a bitter harvest of a dying bloom..."
For though I may seem weak, given to pitiful pain, meaningless in my existence - I instead carry the agony of those in my charge, an eternal guide through that seemingly endless dark wasteland - and I will never give up. I will never surrender, leaving them to wander, lost and alone, forever.
Nay - I will stare fate straight in the eye, with a wicked, serene smile -
And I will walk on.