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Crew Log: #6121.3705 - Меня зовут Тролль, Диматролль
July 31st, 2003
02:41 pm

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Crew Log: #6121.3705
Every time it starts turning inwards, I always wonder whether it is just another layer of the spiral, or is this where the path curves in enough to cross itself - to end itself? Last few times it was getting closer and closer with every passing. The spiral can not be infinite - it must come to end once and put an end to my path - sending me backwards to the very source the way I came here in the first place.

I approximate this to be about fourteen and a half years since THEY came first. That day THEY appeared, ridding of witnesses with THEIR sleep charms. I heard THEIR voices first, then I felt THEM. Felt THEM and in feeling fought THEM. I survived - it must have been luck - THEY underestimated my will while smashing my mind. The same mistake will never repeat. I know it won't. Many times THEY came close to me afterwards, but never close enough to be able to do damage. I heard THEIR voices so loud, so clear - it made me run away as fast as I could. So clear it was that I nearly could distinguish the sounds, but not clearly enough. No, never have I been able to understand what THEY are saying. The horrible, heavy sound that presses on you, makes you tremble in rhythm of the speech while not letting you understand a single word. What do THEY need? I only know that THEY tried to kill me. Or was it another doing the killing and THEY came to protect? I'll never know...

If THEY come again, come like they came some fifteen years back, I won't be able to do a thing. Right after, I got strong. The power was in me and it grew with every day. Oh! The things I could do when I had it. Now it’s gone - too many fights drained me. And not only fights - my last "engagement" forced me into giving up my own power for nothing. As if I weakened myself on purpose. Whose purpose, I want to ask? I look at my hands and I don't recognize the hands that I remember having. There is no light in them - they can't hold anything, let alone performing any acts of power. The only thing that I have left is the voice of the source and even that is getting quieter every day.

I know that because the games changed. Yesterday I got hit. I NEVER get hit. My sight is clear now, I can see it happening in all details - it was all planned, planned well and I was warned, but the source didn't speak loud enough. I see myself going second, then the blue one moves aside (I doubt it was even a player, could have been a decoy) putting me in front. I take the chance rejoicing the upcoming victory and then it happens. K is standing on to the left - I see him after he fires, aimed at me - steady. I look him into the eyes, K doesn't look back. At first I continue on, but then I realize that I can't - I was hit. Never before. I took it alright, after all it is just a game and losing is an essential part of it. It wasn't until much later that the doubts kicked in. Can I afford a loss right now?

Before I have been thinking that all is too good, that I can't continue on the way I do. I blamed it onto the source, but the source told me that if I ever tell about it, it will stop. I am not telling about it now, enough is being withheld for that very reason. Back when I could hear the source, back when THEY left and I turned to another voice finding myself a friend and companion that I had all along, but never realized it. Now it seems like I am turning back and doing that against my will. I got so used to the source, I don't know if I can carry on without it, but my fears are great.

The worse fear is that a split may be happening. It happened before and nothing can stop it from happening again. I can stop it at the last stage as I have been always doing before, or stop it before it happens. But nothing can be done in between and if it started I must prepare for the battle that will come in the end. And this is where my loss and my lack of power show up the most. I fear that I will not be able to stand up to it. Splits can be violent and I nearly lost the last couple of times. Can I stand now, when the source isn't here and THEY are on the move?

The doubt starts to hurt when I question the source. The source tells me that I come from it and to it I will go and that it will protect me from THEM, who will try to rip me away from the source. But THEY could be the ones who are trying to protect me. The source appeared soon after that murder attempt. It was much more descreet, so I can't say the exact time when I realized it first. Was it the source that tried to kill me? I listened to it only because I could understand it plainly and it helped me a few times. But so had THEY, coming to think of it, THEY helped me those few times that I managed to understand THEM by their intonations and manner of speaking. Yet the source told me to beware and blamed half my scars on them. When those appeared I do not remember.

As I feel another twist coming up, I ask myself what is going to happen? Is it the source that is pulling me inwards? Is it THEM pulling me outwards? Whom should I listen to? Or should I try to walk alone, probably forcing them to switch to more subtle tactics than speaking? The places fly at me and I am moving fast. There are many games ahead, and although most players are now obvious decoys, there are still a few real ones around. The race goes on and who can tell what is awaiting ahead? The night falls and the signs of hope are yet to reappear.

Current Mood: coldcold
Current Music: thoughs ratting in the skull when I shake my head

(7 comments | Leave a comment)

Comments
 
From:emidala
Date:July 31st, 2003 03:39 pm (UTC)

you must find this song and listen to it.

(Link)
Märk, hur vår skugga, märk, Movitz mon frère!
inom ett mörker sig slutar,
hur guld och purpur i skoveln, den där,
byts till grus och klutar.
Vinkar Karon från sin brusande älv
och tre gånger se'n dödgrävaren själv,
mer du din druva ej kryster.
Därföre, Movitz, kom, hjälp mig och välv
gravsten över vår syster.

Lillklockan klämtar till storklockans dön
lövad står kantorn i porten
och vid de skrålande gossarnas bön
helgar denna orten.
Vägen opp till templets griftprydda stad
trampas mellan rosors gulnade blad,
multnade plankor och bårar,
till dess den långa och svartklädda rad
djupt sig bugar med tårar.

Så gick till vila, från slagsmål och bal,
grälmakar Löfberg, din maka
där dit åt gräset, långhalsig och smal
du än glor tillbaka.
Hon från Dantobommen skildes i dag
och med henne alla lustiga lag
vem skall nu flaskan befalla.
Torstig var hon och uttorstig är jag
vi är torstiga alla.

[User Picture]
From:deema
Date:July 31st, 2003 04:01 pm (UTC)

Re: you must find this song and listen to it.

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Could you tell me who sings it? :) Or at least what is it called?
I sort of sung it myself - cool song. Nice to hear the real version though.
From:emidala
Date:July 31st, 2003 04:32 pm (UTC)

Re: you must find this song and listen to it.

(Link)
"Märk hur vår skugga" - sung by both Thåström and Cornelis Wreeswijk (about 20 years apart). Written by Carl Michael Bellman.
Mailed you something today.
I am very very angry right now.
I feel that I should be in Slytherin although I do not want to.
I am going to bed.
BLAM!
[User Picture]
From:deema
Date:July 31st, 2003 06:33 pm (UTC)

Re: you must find this song and listen to it.

(Link)
From:emidala
Date:August 1st, 2003 02:41 am (UTC)

Re: you must find this song and listen to it.

(Link)
that's it. :)
[User Picture]
From:deema
Date:August 1st, 2003 01:26 am (UTC)

Re: you must find this song and listen to it.

(Link)
Could you please provide a brief translation? All I could figure out was that hur=land and skugga=shadow. I am guessing that vår=yours (although it sounds like "difficult") and that mon=mine. I also think that the last line of the first stanza says "grive over your sister".
From:emidala
Date:August 1st, 2003 03:30 am (UTC)

Re: you must find this song and listen to it.

(Link)
Märk, hur vår skugga, märk, Movitz mon frère!
inom ett mörker sig slutar,
hur guld och purpur i skoveln, den där,
byts till grus och klutar.
Vinkar Karon från sin brusande älv
och tre gånger se'n dödgrävaren själv,
mer du din druva ej kryster.
Därföre, Movitz, kom, hjälp mig och välv
gravsten över vår syster.



Notice, notice Movitz mon frère, how our shadow
is shutting itself into a darkness,
how gold and purple in the shovel, that one
is replaced by gravel and rags.
Charon waves from his roaring river
and three times after that the gravedigger himself
**** does not translate does not translate ****
Because of that, Movitz, come help me to erect
A gravestone over our sister.

It translates very poorly. It is 1700's Swedish, and very poetic. Oh well.
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