Quinn's Chronicles

To Be Difficult

I suppose I need encouragement and to be told what to do sometimes, even if I am stubborn and rebellious. I lack the motivation to do things for myself anymore. I don't really know what I want besides to put my pasts to rest and be unsealed; I don't have any physical life goals in particular that I can see myself achieving. Many times I am looking over my shoulder to the youth of my past, wondering what things could have been like if things went differently. I am still at war with myself. I am afraid to imagine and afraid to fall into delusion. I am afraid to look within myself for myself, expecting to be met with resistance and illusion. I am guarded and closed off to the world. I look at things in a negative light before seeing it in a positive one. I hesitate to interject myself out of self hatred and through the expectation of self perfection. I deny myself from exploring new bonds with others and opportunities, afraid of being hurt, afraid of being not enough, and afraid of overwhelming myself with the feelings and desires of others. Perhaps it is not that I am incapable of doing the things I must do but that I don't do these things because I lack the drive and fail to see the positive outcomes. I don't want to obsess over physical states of being.

I believe that the source of my physical digestive problems stem from the consumption of human foods. Not only do people get away with intently polluting food supplies with chemicals, but the very experience in sensation of any of the processes involved in digestion through this physical form is nauseating; the physical discomfort is harrowing. Why can't we consume out of desire and not necessity? I often find myself throwing out leftovers from being unable to stomach the taste and texture, at other times simply due to expiry. I admit to neglecting my hunger because I would rather feel hunger than to feel the pains of digestion; after a while I would forget that I'm hungry at all. I have been to many doctors and specialists that couldn't tell me for certain what's wrong. The Albino Lioness demands that I consume sustenance more than once in a day.

I used to enjoy cooking and using my power to blend spices in my mind. The meals I could foresee I could smell and taste as though it had just sat upon my mouth despite the meal never coming to be. I loved using my psychic senses in every way. As to attempt to keep from being bored by the predictability of life, I have the need to feel different, spontaneous and random. When by myself, I am a different person. Perhaps I have the sanity of a genie in a bottle; with my mind a natural compressed maze kept in a glass jar, I gaze upon it from the outside and act out skits to further ponder upon, releasing the spare energy within me. I find it to be very grounding. I do need my moments to talk to myself.

"Why don't you just get a snack, something you like, then? You have to eat something," I'm sorry to say that I am fairly anhedonic when it comes to sustenance. The truth is, I would simply rather never eat anything at all. Things just either don't taste quite right, cause physical pain and discomfort, or is so great that too much of it becomes a bad thing. Though I enjoy fruit I have the greatest difficult in finding fruit of sufficient quality to consume, and is often not enough to sate these feelings of hunger. Too often have I found that I've bought fruit that expired before I consumed it. I try to ensure that I have consumed enough sustenance for myself before working in a day though; I have the greatest difficulty in choosing something quick and doesn't taste like garbage or won't make me feel like garbage.

I loathe my appearance, I feel as though it doesn't represent my spirit. I detest this fragile sack of bone and flesh. To be seen working out, even in a physical state that would be considered most average and at its evolutionary prime, I declare an obscenity that I wish to protect others from seeing. No mortal vessel is satisfactory enough for me to wander within. I desire the form I have in the Astral; I wish to wear my black fur, soft to the touch and a natural armor stronger than any metal. I long to ignite like the fusion of a star. I desire to be tall once more with the wings I've grown. I want to have my horns, a tail and ears. I were told that there may be a way to have this done through this physical plane at a great cost, which was met with great skepticism, curiosity and awe.

I am rejecting of hospitality of those I love, fearing to become a nuisance. I am afraid to express distaste for myself and wish to be as passive as can be. I do not wish to become comfortable then find out that I have done something gravely wrong. I am contempt with putting this aura on which makes me invisible to mindful consciousness. I am self suppressing and opt for the path of least resistance or what everybody else wants before myself. I acknowledge that this is unhealthy but I know not what to do. I hide my suffering from others for I know the burden of concern and worry. I am suffering but I don't know how to feel okay. I don't know how to ask myself what I want. I have been mistreated and left in the shadows not understanding my value. I cannot judge the other practitioners for though I acknowledge my power, I cannot use this power to help myself.

I have used my power to help others; often in a mischievous manner, often harshly, but I try not to use it out of spite. "With great power comes great responsibility," after all. Admittedly I have used my power simply to understand what it is I am indeed capable of. It's quite difficult to accurately measure the effects of someone's energy on the weather for obvious reasons, but I have tested my power over weather at a distance of 150km, another proving to know for certain. The smaller changes can take effect in minutes. There was someone that would get on my nerves every now and then - they would do the things they know they weren't supposed to do. Conveniently they were afraid of thunder storms. I had warned them of what I would do should they had repeated their ways. Admittedly I expected them to do it again. I cast forth with my open palm towards the sky with the intent that the wind will hear me; I envisioned with the time in mind, the clouds of the area would converge and sustain itself in the state of a lightning storm for the duration of an entire week. By the end of it they were begging me to release the storm from their skies. I believe that the feeling of issuing a confident slap on the wrist was beneficial for summoning this.

It wasn't until I was over at their home staying up late with their angelic practitioner friend that I began to properly learn how to determine the distance between myself and a spirit in this plane of existence. Their presence feels like the graze of a statically charged balloon. The position in which I felt this static was relative to their direction. I had stepped outside for a moment and right before I returned, the hallway door mysteriously and inexplicably opened for a moment and slammed shut, waking everyone up. There was so much paranormal activity that I stayed up until later in the morning to rest. Usually when I have a bad feeling about something, I end up being right. Sometimes I wish I weren't, sometimes I surprise myself because I think I'm going mad imagining impossibilities.

I will scheme and I will exercise my power just to see if I can. I will cause instances of chaos to balance things as best as I see fit. I still try not to hurt people but there have been times when people were hurt. It is most wise not to attempt magick in anger. It is not fair to use power against a being that is unequal to you. I do not value my life over others and there have been times where I've regret what I've done.