extracted from limbo
Sunday morning's act of reprieve · 8/28


journal entry #15
random thoughts · 08/28

August, Sunday, the day after

The box won't close back on its own. Fusing the seams to be closed never happened or, not taped securely or locked for me to remain hidden. Something is wrong or is this how reincarnation feels like? Wrong is always the common denominator when you have had privileges to sit in the passenger's side and now the driver's seat is all yours. I can hear his voice picking away amongst the rushes of thoughts and memories of situations happening this week passing.

The weeks that came before and the weeks to think about ahead of now will be defaulted. He doesn't want to be secondary. Working hard to live up to the road paved and getting the scraps to this new development. I should be apologetic and empathetic but there's nothing to be sorry for. There's not one thing to mull over when it comes to his concerns because they're not only his. They're ours now whether we both want it to be or not.

Is this the hostile takeover I slept through, initiating it with one hand behind my back and can't remember the deal that's been made? If there ever was a time to make a deal with Lucifer himself, it just had to happen under the brief crunch of sleep. No more than a few hours. Enough to make up for having to sleep with a literal eye opened. Time longer than what's had is enough to be alarmed by. Nights will get longer, days extending just the same. The hours that cover all 24 will bond with the next 48, and so on. Right down to the way my body is adjusting thoroughly to finally feel less incomplete.

No more waiting in suspension for me to come around and continue with plans that pushes the boundaries of Nathan's life. His world is shared with my foot being out further than his and quicker on the draw to crush any neck in need of crushing to prevent me from doing what has been set out to do. It could be hell now seen for all that it has never been viewed before. Clarity without fooling that awareness has a shot to be misunderstood with blind spots, and we identify who and what those are.

My children are his. For more than a second, in a fit of mania, I rushed to the idea that they both were better off gone. More than far away and that is how anyone can be lead astray with enough to lose. Never a praying man when distance and quiet is enough to start sorting through mixed feelings that are more than parallels to his, while opportunities to make the better call than before. My carefulness can be compromised when it comes to Joe. My namesake twice over has a had a snagged thread for a while now.

Nathan watched him from an infant behind a slightly altered lense. A different role. As I have been around but not present, he almost the same. Around and half-ass present by the way a brother. Who's idea was that? Which, let me tell you, is where questioning his identity will be the blow back that may send him into old habits. At current, despite the troubles the kid has faced to overcome, there will be more awaiting if my presumptions are right. I know both of them as it was revealed. It won't go away. The knowing. None of it will. It is fucking with me this morning.

One kid is known through and through, the other, the one who at one time I believed was an plant, has much to still teach us. I can't differentiate the idea of Ivy and Rose. Not after this week and not before then when her face provokes recognition and the stir of guilt from that life to his. He never knew of any existence of her for twenty-something years and now a year has accelerated from the day of paths crossed, and challenges are present that are more delicate than I can fully comprehend.

She still doesn't know me and can't say I know her the way that I should. Getting that much packaged in a short period of time is unfathomable when instinct tells you to protect sensibilities and suspend the progression of knowing because it means keeping her safe. I know failure in doing so is inevitable but prolonging the inevitable is what I can make happen until it's time.

Living the upside down is our present. I can give it a day or three. Clock if changes will happen. If the box will seal on its own. If not, and made to grin and bear what's gone on, because explanations are lined up. Trickery and the ability to be conniving then convincing that nothing has gone rogue has to be maintained. Lie, omit truths because there's preparation in presenting this version of Nathan that's nothing more than him finally one with the mask. Having very little friends makes it easy but family, both of blood and of extension of his other half, the person who's gone through this first, is going to be complicated to sell.

This is what being both and alive and dead feels like. Rebirth with implications and signs everywhere that death is not far away. More death and life because there's nothing left to balance and play to an advantage, when you see crossbones rather than fleshed walked bodies after eyes remain open. All of them follow me in a trail of what was taken before going back in that imprisoned box. I'm part of the haunting that is an inconvenience but there's going to be an iron grip on managing. Understanding is on a level which he felt locked out of. No anymore. A door was left open for some reason to take advantage of. I am here now. Slade is here to stay.