This space, that space, they keep looking at me.
And I keep not writing anything.
I want to.
I have thoughts,
Things I want to say.
The longer I go without writing things down,
The harder it is to put things down.
And then it takes longer to put things down
And then it gets harder.
And the cycle continues.
Ands nothing gets out and nothing gets put down and one day we’ll talk about why there are never any people in my photographs…
Wow! This sounds so familiar!
We’re young people right? Some are teenagers, some are in our twenties, but not many of us are over thirty. Okay, there’s that one grizzled veteran… but still.
So! Young people? Right? And we’re fighting an empire or a corporation, or some faceless system. And they’ve got technology and guns and stuff. And we’ve got magic and love, yeah? Oh, and one or two of our side used to be on their side. Yeah, got that?
So, then there’s these giant chickens we all ride, and those little white winged teddy bear looking things, and the less said about the ambulatory cacti the better.
I don’t know… this just all feels very familiar. You sure this has never happened to us before? On this world before? Somewhere else? Sometime else? Maybe? So this is the last one of these for our world? Okay.
But it still feels awfully familiar.
He’s done it again, I don’t understand how he keeps control to be honest. Why is there no revolution? Why do they keep letting him do this? Why do I have to be the one cleaning up after him? Yes, there are my cousins, but it all falls to me if anything goes wrong. My father is a stupid bully, and an irresponsible ruler. He constantly belittles everyone, abuses us all, never relents. I’d kill him myself, but I am so tiny compared to him. So very, very small.
So, here I am, gathering all the things he scattered. Trying, once again, to put things back to how they were before. Making a shoddy recreation out of whatever junk I can find laying around these places. People run and scream when they see me coming, because they know I’m helpless to stop this process and if they get caught they’ll become part of the project. I can hear their screams, even now, their terrible screams. Every time they get stuck and can’t pull away, they scream. Entire buildings of screaming people, whole cities gathered up and scooped away. The screams stay with me, I can never block out the screams.
I have no choice though. I have to do this for him. He destroys and I’m forced to rebuild. Gathering materials through the cruelest and least efficient method. Roll the ball, get whatever sticks to the ball, make other things stick, gather up everything. I don’t know how long I can keep doing this, but unless I want to be the king of a kingdom that no longer exists, I have to do this for my own legacy. I’m trapped here, unable to stop but not willing to go on. I have to do this, but I can’t keep destroying other worlds to make up for his madness. There has to be an end, if for no other reason than to end that stupid little muttered song that the mummers sing to themselves after madness has taken them.
My knuckles are bloody
My jaw is sore
My muscles ache
None of that matters now
Because a challenger has appeared
I’ve fought people from all over the world
Who use every conceivable martial arts style
And so far I’ve beaten them all
I’m so tired
But I can’t stop now
Not when I’m so close
Just one more bought
One more fight
Maybe then I can quit
And then another challenger appears
And I know I’ll never get out of this vicious cycle
None of that matters now
Because we’ve been told to fight.
This all feels so familiar. Every time I swing this wooden sword, and cut another weed, I feel like I’ve done this before. It’s like I’ve lived this life a dozen times, like I’ve always done this. I knew the old man was going to tell me it was dangerous to go alone, even before he spoke. I can tell exactly what throwing a boomerang will feel like. I can already tell you how to play a musical instrument I’ve never actually seen.
I know there is a girl, and a wizard and… some sort of triangle made up of triangles that are probably made up of smaller triangles like some sort of triangular fractal. I know there are things out there that I must face, with names like keese and moblins. Different incarnations showing up over and over again. It’s like a pattern, a fractal again. No matter how long or how deep, you keep getting the same thing. I will have to save a kingdom that I have saved countless times already.
There will be friends, horses and old men mostly, but still friends. I’ll need to gather hearts and pixies in jars. And rupees, I’ll be getting a lot of those little gems to weigh down my pockets before this is over. There will be bows, arrows, bombs, swords and that girl. I can’t get that girl out of my head.
It’s important that I do this, I have to keep the cycle going, other wise the nation is lost. Can’t let the nation be lost, I live here. Well, I live in the forest, because I’ve always lived in the forest, but the forest is part of the nation and the nation is ruled by… that girl. I’ve got to do this, got to save the world, stop the evil again as I have always done.
Either I’m a lunatic, or I am this world’s eternal champion. Either way, I’ve got to go save the day again, and all I know is that it’s dangerous to go alone.
How long have I been out?
Good gravy, I’m hungry.
Okay, so… I’m in the maze again.
Are those food pellets?
Why is there a path of pellets?
I’m going see those floating cherries and bananas again soon.
Gotta eat something.
Food pellets the only thing on offer.
The Maze is haunted too.
That’s really nice.
Time to run.
Maybe there are still those big pellets.
The ones that look like eight balls.
The ones that help me fight the ghosts.
Just gotta keep moving.
Gotta keep eating.
Gotta get the place cleared.
So I can do it all over again.