From Limbo to the Beach, Thursday Evening
Jul. 12th, 2007 05:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dark_slippy_thingLundy, Fastnet, Irish Sea
I got a message I can't read,
Another message I can't read
Being the first in the Irish Sea,
I got a message I can't read,
Another message I can't read
It had just been silence, at first. Silence and blackness and that lonely, empty nothingness that of course led Valentine to start thinking. There wasn't anything else to be done amongst the nothingness, of course. And it hadn't taken long before that thinking twisted into guilt.
Everything was gone, and it was his fault. He had hesitated here. He had made a mis-step there. He had done something horrible to someone and the world that she had made and although she had made the motions of forgiveness, he wasn't entirely certain that he could forgive himself.
He had hesitated. Everything was gone.
I'm on your side
Nowhere to hide
Trapdoors that open
I spiral down
And it hadn't taken long from there- hours or days, he couldn't really tell- before blaming himself had led to simply going over those events in whatever was left of his mind and trying hopelessly to fix them. He'd see that last moment before everything went dark, and in his mind he would hand her that stupid mask and everything would be alright. He would see the wanted posters and tear them down and ignore them. He would say "I'm sorry," so much sooner. He would keep his promise.
It hadn't changed a thing.
You're living in a fantasy world,
You're living in a fantasy world.
He remained in silence, in darkness, and there wasn't anything there. He'd started to see things, but he knew that there was nothing to be seen. A pair of bright blue eyes. Whispers in shades of pitch and midnight. A promise, if promises could be given form and colour within the pitch. They'd dance around him, just out of the reach of fingers that weren't really there, and they'd whisper to him and accuse him and laugh at him and remind him that whatever had happened, it was because he had waited a moment too long and held on a little too tightly. And it was because he couldn't stop doubting, wasn't it? The taunting was his own mind, giving shape and voice to things that were gone entirely, somewhere in the back of his head.
And when even that had stopped, he didn't dare stop reaching into the nothingness, as though something might pass through his fingers at any moment. Something real and tangible and all of this would have been a dream that was his own, not some stupid little girl's.
He'd reach. He'd reached for weeks. For days and hours and minutes and seconds. And it might have been years or heartbeats before his fingers closed around a piece of paper.
Tangible fingers around a real piece of paper.
I'm lost at sea,
Don't bother me
I've lost my way,
I've lost my way
And he'd unfolded the paper and he stared at the crayon waves, at the sunset and the sky and the sand on the beach. The waves were moving, roaring in his ears as they crashed against the shore. There was a sandcastle, worried at by the tide, with two small pebbles-- dragons, he'd remembered-- pebbles, standing guard.
You're living in a fantasy world,
You're living in a fantasy world,
You're living in a fantasy world...
The most beautiful world
The blackness was gone and it was just Valentine, now. Valentine and this sunset and those waves and that sandcastle. He tightened his grasp on the sheet of paper that had become his setting and he stared at the whole expanse of it in awe.
And then, when the sun had dipped down below the waves and left him standing in a darkness that was actually real and full of life, he turned and walked down the beach toward the dorms.
Lundy, Fastnet, Irish Sea
I got a message I can't read
Another message I can't read
He'd made a promise.
(Establishy only! T'is the season to be songficcy? It was all ready to be posted on its own, but Radiohead's "In Limbo" had to be included in this. Oh, and hi! I'm back!)
I got a message I can't read,
Another message I can't read
Being the first in the Irish Sea,
I got a message I can't read,
Another message I can't read
It had just been silence, at first. Silence and blackness and that lonely, empty nothingness that of course led Valentine to start thinking. There wasn't anything else to be done amongst the nothingness, of course. And it hadn't taken long before that thinking twisted into guilt.
Everything was gone, and it was his fault. He had hesitated here. He had made a mis-step there. He had done something horrible to someone and the world that she had made and although she had made the motions of forgiveness, he wasn't entirely certain that he could forgive himself.
He had hesitated. Everything was gone.
I'm on your side
Nowhere to hide
Trapdoors that open
I spiral down
And it hadn't taken long from there- hours or days, he couldn't really tell- before blaming himself had led to simply going over those events in whatever was left of his mind and trying hopelessly to fix them. He'd see that last moment before everything went dark, and in his mind he would hand her that stupid mask and everything would be alright. He would see the wanted posters and tear them down and ignore them. He would say "I'm sorry," so much sooner. He would keep his promise.
It hadn't changed a thing.
You're living in a fantasy world,
You're living in a fantasy world.
He remained in silence, in darkness, and there wasn't anything there. He'd started to see things, but he knew that there was nothing to be seen. A pair of bright blue eyes. Whispers in shades of pitch and midnight. A promise, if promises could be given form and colour within the pitch. They'd dance around him, just out of the reach of fingers that weren't really there, and they'd whisper to him and accuse him and laugh at him and remind him that whatever had happened, it was because he had waited a moment too long and held on a little too tightly. And it was because he couldn't stop doubting, wasn't it? The taunting was his own mind, giving shape and voice to things that were gone entirely, somewhere in the back of his head.
And when even that had stopped, he didn't dare stop reaching into the nothingness, as though something might pass through his fingers at any moment. Something real and tangible and all of this would have been a dream that was his own, not some stupid little girl's.
He'd reach. He'd reached for weeks. For days and hours and minutes and seconds. And it might have been years or heartbeats before his fingers closed around a piece of paper.
Tangible fingers around a real piece of paper.
I'm lost at sea,
Don't bother me
I've lost my way,
I've lost my way
And he'd unfolded the paper and he stared at the crayon waves, at the sunset and the sky and the sand on the beach. The waves were moving, roaring in his ears as they crashed against the shore. There was a sandcastle, worried at by the tide, with two small pebbles-- dragons, he'd remembered-- pebbles, standing guard.
You're living in a fantasy world,
You're living in a fantasy world,
You're living in a fantasy world...
The most beautiful world
The blackness was gone and it was just Valentine, now. Valentine and this sunset and those waves and that sandcastle. He tightened his grasp on the sheet of paper that had become his setting and he stared at the whole expanse of it in awe.
And then, when the sun had dipped down below the waves and left him standing in a darkness that was actually real and full of life, he turned and walked down the beach toward the dorms.
Lundy, Fastnet, Irish Sea
I got a message I can't read
Another message I can't read
He'd made a promise.
(Establishy only! T'is the season to be songficcy? It was all ready to be posted on its own, but Radiohead's "In Limbo" had to be included in this. Oh, and hi! I'm back!)
