Hello, dear readers~!
It’s been quite chilly in my room today. The air still is shivering with winter frost and I must admit, I kind of love it. Nothing like a nice cold day to brighten one’s empty soul, eh?
I decided to write a Confession Session entry today. It’s the second confession for the month of January. I did start one CS in January (the ninth confession, posted earlier this month), but CS #10 was never started... until now, that is. Originally, I wanted to write about my love for the cold, but I lost a lot of my inspiration.
See, when I really want to write something and lack the time to write it, I make a list of journal titles. I had a list for January, but due to personal issues, I didn’t get around to fabricating my thoughts. Eventually, the ideas fade and the journal outline expires. That’s what happened to Confession Session #10. In my notes, it was scheduled to be called “Shivering Smiles.” Although “sh” and “s” make different sounds, they start with the same letter. I was always a fan of that.
Anyway, with Canada warming up a bit (with a high of zero degrees tonight!), I figured to write about how cold it is would be inappropriate. I mean, yeah, it’s chilly, but not that chilly, you know? It’s like talking about dawn while the sky is evidently noon.
... Alright, so perhaps that was a horrible analogy. It didn’t quite compare the two instances very accurately, but oh wells. My creative writing skills are up to par with that of an average ninth grader.
Shall we move on to this entry’s main topic? I think we shall. I really oughta practice avoiding dilly dallying.
There was one time, waaaay back when, in my old house. I was sitting cross-legged in the living room, eyes closed, mind clear. I saw clouds floating across any ever-changing sky of colour. The clouds were almost... cartoony. A few childish clouds travelled in straight lines from left to right, and I watched them. It was a peaceful state of mind.
And then I opened my eyes and thump. I fell on the floor. Alone, I was, but I didn’t need a witness to know what had happened had really just happened. I swear I didn’t dream it. I was levitating, dear readers! My physical body was lifted off the ground!
Since then, I’ve been able to reach the same mental mode of flying. When I close my eyes, I have the world in my hands and I can sculpt reality to my desires. I can lift this and drop that, raise this and lower that. The landscape can tilt in accordance with my command. I am powerful with my eyes closed.
But, although I consider it a pity, I’ve yet to be able to recreate the thump of my body when I open my eyes. See, it takes a lot of concentrate for me to achieve the sensation of being in the air, but I have to bring something with me. There are rules, I learned, that mustn’t be tampered with.
We’re not allowed to fly by the sheer force of imagination.
In my dreams, I’m limitless. I can fly freely and it’s wonderful. I wish I could show it to you, dear reader. The feelings of being thrown up in the air and gliding with the wind, it’s spectacular. A truly worthwhile experience.
There was one dream where I flew for three days straight. Did I tell you about that dream yet? Hold on, I’ll go check my journal archives.
*actually goes to check*
My goodness, it appears I never told you of my three days of flight. I’ll write a belated Dream Log 4 sometime this month, maybe. I have notes for the three days of flight dream.
The method of flight in that dream was paper. It was so... vivid, dear reader! So vivid, indeed. In fact, the glory of it retained so well in my subconscious self that I had another dream using the same method of flight! I’ve yet to try it in reality because I fear getting paper cuts on the skin between my fingers.
Anyway, isn’t wingless flight just magical?
I had another dream where I was riding in a car and staring out the window, aimlessly pointing my finger in circles. I felt a tug, a slight attraction from my finger. It was as if I was metal and a magnet was calling out to me. And then, all too suddenly, a fluffy, pink pen flew into view, just outside the car window. It wavered a bit before going completely under my control. Whatever direction I pointed my finger, the pen would fly such way. To be able to move solid items with an invisible force is also quite magical, wouldn’t you agree?
And then there were my curses. Curse you for this, curse you for that! Oh yes, I can doom my enemy’s in harm’s way. At least, I used to be able to. I’m a saint now, haha.
During the time I was plunged in darkness, I would collect all that negative energy between the palms of my hands. After performing a certain ritualistic hand gesture, I would put my hands together and focus, expelling all the frustration into an imaginary orb which spun within the gravity of my mind. And then, when a simple decision and aim, I would target someone and curse them with “bad luck.”
Some would call it cheating. I like to call it helping the team. In sports tournaments, when I sat on the bench, I would bewitch the opponents of my comrades and, surprise! They would perform considerably worse.
But I needed that focused black energy. Without being completely in ruins inside, I couldn’t summon sufficient power. I’m happier than I used to be, dear reader, but I am weaker.
I thought, hey! Maybe I can use my positive aura to create mana.
It didn’t work.
I suppose curses can only be casted upon ill will. I haven’t tried using “good” energy to aid my teammates, but I don’t want to test it yet. What if I end up triggering a curse by accident?
There was a point of time in my life when I would coordinate my clothing with a classmate’s attire. See, I used to get these psychic dreams that would tell me several things. Future events, warnings, all that stuff, even the outfit of my test subject.
Surely you know of my test subject? I’ve mentioned the guinea pig in previous entries before.
Blue dress shirt tomorrow! Yellow dress shirt! Grey sweater. Purple dress shirt. Red T. New long sleeves.
It was easy “guessing” what my test subject would wear the next day. I have my dreams to thank for that.
It took a bit of math, too, of course. My dreams gave a vague selection and I would have to mentally map it out before arriving upon a conclusion. It worked well until that fateful July.
Oh, what happened in which July? I’ll... perhaps tell you later? I did mention it in a previous entry, I think.
But anyways, my psychic dreams weren't (and still aren’t) limited to clothing. I can predict when a person has a change of heart. It takes most people a while to notice, “oh, they changed.” My dreams tell me so.
And there are conversations I have that are just so scripted, I could’ve planned the whole thing out myself. And I do just that. My dreams tell me what topics of conversation I’m going to engage in and I have a good bit of time to prepare.
To all those people out there who think I’m smart just because I sound smart, thanks. But do think again.
If I study science for a science test, of course I’m bound to do well. That’s different than having a pop quiz and doing well. Do you understand this analogy, dear reader? Basically, preparation is different than natural intelligence.
Flying, psychokinesis, clairvoyance, it’s all very magical.
Call me a fool, but life is infinitely more fun when you mess with it. Today’s confession is that I believe in magic! It’s something I put my faith in for the mere enjoyment of it.
Anyway, I have to go pack. I’ll be in a neighbouring city for the next few days so yeeap. Thanks for reading this entry! I know it seems too fantastical, but oh well. There’s freedom in my journal.
Today’s lyrics are:
Now if you're feelin' kinda low 'bout the dues you've been paying
Future's coming much too slow
And you wanna run but somehow you just keep on stayin'
Can't decide on which way to go
Comment the song’s title and artist and a reward shall be granted~! Best of luck and I’ll see you around next entry.
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