I know myself.
I know myself, well enough, I know that the majority of my monologues, that the sentences I am letting flow in mind and that I'm imagining as being read are nothing but a way for me to cope.
A simple habit I let grow as I find it's benefits more useful than it's negatives.
I am not forced to keep this little voice in my head that narrate everything I think and do.
Proof is, I don't acknowledge every of my "Roasted over the fire maybe?" actions. See this sentence, it's me who said it, like usual, I didn't describe it, I've been talking with the others since we killed the beast, but I didn't describe it.
Why? Because I fucking can, I know me.
The reason I did that?
It's simple, I wasn't proving anything to anyone, well, I kinda did.
The only reason I'm still narrating was because I wanted to prove it to myself, that I was still fine, that I knew myself, again, that I have control, again.
I didn't want to acknowledge this, but I just did, why, because even if I know why I do things, it doesn't mean I like or stop those behaviors, I ignore them.
I turn my head away, as long as they aren't overly dangerous or problematic, they are fine to keep.
Do you see where I'm going with my speech? Do you? Who am I kidding, you know, you are me after all.
It's just proof, it's just buildup, just a way to insist on the first fucking sentence I said.
I know myself.
A lot of people say that, but I'm utterly confident.
Even if I'm not the best at changing, the best at acknowledging, I know myself.
Way more than other people would usually know themselves.
And that's why, while I rest my feet on that dead animal, my mouth moving automatically to answer to jenna and nod at balrow, that's why I wonder.
Wonder about said feet, soles wet with blood.
Covered by a dirty and battered pair of shoes I had for years, unwilling to buy a new one till this one wasn't completly unusable.
I had them for so long, they are basically second nature, like clothes, I don't feel them unless I think of them, like anyone really.
So I wonder, I wonder and wonder, why, in the middle of a fight to the death, why, did I randomly thought about them?
Why, why. What in the fuck happened?
Why did I thought about how tight they were crushing my feet as if they were lungs, as if they needed space and a big free area to breathe, to expand and move freely. Why, why, why?
Why were those shoes so important, that me, that the little voice in my head, always narrating, always loyal, never faltering.
Why, why were those shoes so important that I included them in my narration?
This narration. Only describe my primary focus, the most important parts of every second, I don't describe anything, right now I don't talk about how my hand is sore, how my body feel battered and covered in bruises after riding the boar, how I smile at malfoy as I mess with his arrogance.
I don't describe everything, I never do it, that's too much work.
I don't even think about it to be honest, words just flow, sliding into my awareness as I live my life, it is a part of how I think, it is an integral part of me and how I live.
And I for sure, will keep it.
Forever.
Remember twitchy? Obviously you do, remember the jokes? I heard them, I thought them, in real time, that was the only thing that kept me from going full panic dying mode as a gun was shoved on my face.
And you must remember how I plan in them, do you?
Well, I obviously don't only plan in them, my brain constantly work to push me more toward my goals, this narration however, is peak finish. It is the kind of shit that...just help me.
When we were in the goblin watchtower and I searched a way out of using the gun, I didn't notice the sun.
Well I did, but I didn't put a lot of thoughts into it.
I was just thinking...but my narration, always constant, randomly talked about how the sun felt against my skin.
It pushed me to think more about it, giving me the idea for the sleeping massacre.
This narration help me, it is me.
A mean of thinking, of reaching my goals, I never ignore it, and I shouldn't ever ignore myself.
Random words, coming from the deepest part of my brain comes up to appear in them, all of them, the most insignificants ones may just be a following of a train of thought, one here to help me reach my goal.
It's always useful, it's ever changing.
From humor to help me cope, to moral dillemas to keep my values in check, to random thoughts like the sun, or the direction which the door open, or to give me a plan. Add changes of tones to reflect my current mood and keep me in or out of it.
And you got my narration.
For example, right now, I'm practically not describing anything about real life, nor making any jokes.
Why? Because I'm introspecting, because from deep inside I genuinely believe that I need to introspect about something, right, now.
Humor would distract me, and the chuckle of annie would too.
I need to reflect on something.
I need to wonder.
So I'll keep wondering.
And right now I wonder, why, does something as insignificant as shoes took more than a whole sentence in my mental monologue?
Why does it keep plaguing me, why was I annoyed that my feet, protected by my soles couldn't feel the ground proprely in the middle of a fight?
Should I get rid of them? No, no that's idiotic. I just....there is a theme here.
So I wonder.
I wonder about why was I so angry?
Really, why was I so angry? It wasn't because I was in a fight, no, I mean, I don't have the best feeling toward the boar because of that, but, that's not it.
This rage boiling in my veins, the one that pushed me to call this boar guy 'it', this, this wasn't the kind of anger I would usually get in a fight.
This wasn't the kind of coils that climb behind my throat. The one that spit poison. The push me to crush Twitchy, that make me restless and hungry for it
No, this was different. It came from nowhere, I was angry about running away from a meal, something deep inside me fucking exploded, I wanted revenge, I wanted to get rid of that bastard.
Did I said meal again?
See? I won't even eat the boar, but I called the dead a meal.
But now that I think about it, since the start of the tutorial, all my fights were...not out of character but, I was always a bit...too angry?
There wasn't much hesitation.
Something freeze in my veins, the coiling behind my throat satisfied.
When I killed twitchy, I hesitated, for a second, when he was at death door, I hesitated. He almost killed me because of it.
With the goblins, I....at the start I hesitated, I was wary, especially when they shown that they feared me for some reason, then they were going to kill me, I was scared and then...
I just kinda didn't hesitate to butcher them all?
Wait wasn't I more pissed off than scared? Even against twitchy I felt worse...
The goblins were easy, no hesitation, against twitchy every hit was hard but hesitant, against them though?
I mean, raising the impaled one against my head was kind of excessive wasn't it?
And the pummeling?
And then the orc, I mean, I just jumped that wasn't smart. Not at all.
And the punch? In his eye? Really? Both arms?
That's brutal, that was extremely brutal, I didn't think, I didn't hesitate, it felt instinctive, natural. I was wild, unrestrained, I felt like a fucking neherdental defending his territory...
I'm no nehandertal.
And what was the deal with the spear? Yes, why was it so tight?
I look down and try to squeeze my hand as hard as I can, I can feel the power, but...that's nothing new.
The grip I had on that spear was ridiculous, it was so hard I felt my joints groaning like I was using more power than my body could handle, and why the jump?
Was it necessary to jump?
Why couldn't I get my grip away from that spear and escape?
Why?
And that's not all, talking about the spear, it was the same with the goblins, at the end, instead of being smart and rushing on the goblin, I fuckin....just threw my spear at him.
Like....like it was the natural thing to do, it was more instincts than anything.
Or when I was digging out my spear out of the orc body, I was pissed at the system for not giving me the spear, it was MINE!
That's...I mean that's just a spear, why was I like that.
Spears are good...but, I was really happy when I first saw the spear wasn't I? Like...a bit too much even.
I didn't even thought about getting more than one weapon? Maybe make a deal with the other.
The coils rage in my throat. Make one dissapear
I didn't, what about the weight testing? Was it just a random movie shit? Really?
I'm being...really affectionate with a tool of all things.
Would I have done the same before? Before the tutorial? Would I have done it? Would I have thrown the spear? Would I have kept my grip tight instead of abandoning it? Would I have jumped? Would I be pissed at the system for making me feel this slimy feeling of my spear being stolen instead of fucking studying this more?
So I wonder.
I wonder, because I know myself.
So I wonder.
I wonder, because I'm sure.
I'm sure something's messing with my mind.