Feelings of a Lost Girl in a Lost Boy's Head

I don't know if my creator really will do it, but he's thinking about breaking ties with...pretty much almost everything. He was musing about becoming a hermit the other day, as he paced back and forth, fuming.

I fear for him...I don't think anyone will hear this...and I'm not sure if he was really serious...but please, someone talk him out of it!

...Then again...maybe it's for the best. Maybe he's right. I don't know. Maybe it's better to keep me away from everyone else, where I won't bother people. Where he can concentrate on other things. Maybe he'll be happier. I don't know...

But my Creator believes that's what LJ is for. Getting burdens off your back and sharing them with the world.

I'm...about half a year wiser. Or should be anyway. I don't know.

Right now, I feel like I haven't grown a bit ever since I was 'born' in the creative sense.

My creator still burdens other people with his own burdens, displaces his blame to me (though I deserve it a lot of the time), and considers himself an awful writer. I still am considered wangsty, uncomfortable to play with, and ridiculously unrealistic. And as for what I think of myself?

There is a saying in Ridia, the land I am from. "Look into the eyes of others, as if they were a mirror." That is what I think of myself. That is what my creator thinks of himself.

Neither of us are very good at making good friends. Heck, the real ones, I can count them on my hands, I bet. I won't name names for the sake of my creator.

Four. Four friends total that we can really count on to be there for us. It's us, isn't it? It's not that the world is a bad place, it's just that we're bad people, my creator and I.

I feel...myself...walking backwards...shrinking...shriveling...

There is no light.

I wonder about many things. One of these many things is whether I'm real or not. Of course I'm not real flesh and blood, merely a voice in someone's head. But am I even that? Or am I just a figment of imagination, and my creator imagines he has a voice in his head for the sake of companionship with soulbonds? Of being vastly different from the majority? It wouldn't be the first time he's done this.

Another thing I'm constantly worried about is that my life will suddenly end as soon as my creator dies. No one will remember me or my creator. And we characters, do we have spirits? Or do we just disappear forever as soon as we are lost to the sands of time? My creator hopes there is an afterlife, and hopes there is one for me as well...

To be forgotten is worse than death? It IS death.

There are some characters that seem to live forever. Homer of the Illiad and Odyssey. Nathaniel Hawthorne's Hester Prynne. King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. Sherlock Holmes. Frodo of Lord of the Rings. And so forth.

My creator wants to become famous in history as an author, and I want to be famous in history as a literary character. Are my dreams too grand? Too shallow? Too silly, like that of a girl who sits at the window, dreaming she is a princess?

Sorry about yesterday. I think I’ve recovered now. Also, I thank Jaimas for cheering me up a little bit. I don’t feel very strong or like such a ‘wonderful’ person. But knowing you’re there behind me gives me a bit of courage to continue.

Um, still have a bit of awkward stuff to go, so...

From there, I went a bit further down the road of adult RPs, into something that was pure furry wrestling/smut RP. I’m not very proud of that, but if that is where my creator wants me to go, I will go. I’m weak willed like that when it comes to wanting to be loved and recognized.

During this time, my angst that I had been clinging on to so fiercely enveloped me in the Valencia RP. Creator ran a plot that ended up ‘killing’ me. However, as long as we characters are remembered, we are never ‘killed.’ However, we are just as easily forgotten as we are conjured, save for characters like Harry Potter or such.

I hope I live for a long time. I want to be one of those timeless characters, like Hester Prynne of Nathaniel Hawthorne’s “The Scarlet Letter” or Romeo and Juliet of Shakespeare fame.

Creator got into a fight shortly after that with everyone on the Valencia RP. It was a horrible fight. It shattered my bridge to the Valencia RP. I was all alone, save for a few furry RPs.

There’s a period here in Justin’s life that he specifically does not want talked about. You can ask him directly if you want details, but it hurts to write about it in detail.

Later, after one of my creator’s goddesses, the honorable Mrs. Patsy Dupree of Kerr High School, gave him some words of advice that have been consciously forgotten, but instead integrated into our very way of life, becoming like walking...we rejoined the Valencia RP. I had to start from scratch. To be honest, I was glad for this. I wanted to forget the past.

Forget the past...I wish I could. But it hounds as me and my creator like dogs.

Anyhow. Kerge arrived at PMMush to test the waters for me. I thank him for that. With his help, I was given a warm welcome into the Mush community.

That's pretty much the places I've visited...thank you for dealing with me once more...I'll try not to be much of a bother in the future.

Wow. My creator sure has requested of a lot of art of me. It’s very flattering, although kind of creepy, especially when you share a head with him, and he’s of the opposite gender. There’s pictures of me as a martial artist, as a anthro-mouse, as a Machop-morph. Though I think I need to get new clothes. He made me in a game he plays, Soul Calibur III. There are so many incarnations of me, that sometimes it’s hard to keep track.

I guess today’s entry will be about everywhere I’ve visited.

I was created for an adult furry wrestling roleplay. So my beginnings were not quite so flattering. But my story has always been the same, seeking approval from my father. From there I went to a more mature, furry wrestling roleplay, rather than just adult. That was a great time in my past. It was where I met my first mother. Or, person I called mother, really. 

*sigh* I screwed that one up rather badly. Back then . . . well, I guess I still am. I’ve always been a very angsty character. Very emotional. Very crybabyish and dependent on others. Fighting is not my life, my emotions are. I guess that is what the real center of me is. Anyway, I frustrated her to the point of her abandoning me.

Anyhow, from there, I then took up a role in the Valendia RP. Those were not very flattering times either. Though I was older, I was forever unchanging. I’ve never changed a bit, but back then, it was even worse.

God, this is so painful to talk about. I feel my heart being rended asunder by these memories.

I need some time to recover. I’m sorry, Justin, for embarrassing us both.

It’s so frustrating, trying to convince someone who simply can’t listen. 

For my creator, JPG816, it’s his father. Never listens to a word of advice or criticism on his behavior. Never change. As they say, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.

For me, it was also my father. Funny how that works? I wonder if he would listen even if he were alive. Well, as alive as he can be. Sometimes I question if we characters really exist.

My father, he never approved of me. Neither did Justin’s father, of him. Some may say not to pay attention to them. Quite hard when you live with them, isn’t it? Hard to ignore when they rub it like dirt into your face. 

Yet, unlike my creator, who hates his father and wishes “to toss him into an abusive, hellish retirement home as soon as possible,” I still love my father. Even past his death, past his hatred for me.

Maybe he was right. I am a useless daughter that can't do anything right. I am everything under the sun that he hates. I was born of a failure of a God, so it's fitting like that, isn't it?

Justin attended a Sociology class today with a lecture about Sigmund Freud. He remembered the talks about Oedipus complexes and, more importantly, Elektra complexes. I wonder if that’s what I have with my father.

Then again, the Oedipus complex, although it applies to males in Freudian Psychology, may apply to me. I love my mother so much. I want to be just like her someday, even if this body won’t let me due to its…shape. No offense Justin, but you really need to lose a lot of weight. 

I wonder what one would call a young girl being obsessed with being like their mother. A Karia complex? Nah, I’m probably not the first to think like I do.

My mother isn't without her fair share of choice deafness either. She refuses to hear my reasons for being like her. But that's different in a way. She believes everyone is an individual. But I don't want to be myself. I...I'm nothing special. I want to be just like her instead. And so, I train.

They’re always changing. Always mixing and mingling together. Right now, I feel anxious, lost, and disoriented, yet somewhat energetic and wanting to do something. Like train more. My creator is too busy fuming to do anything with me though.

I’ll try not to write too much about my creator’s life, but my creator’s been trying really hard to get me to talk for his Creative Writing class. Am I being used as a tool to further his goal of being accepted and recognized as a great writer? And even if I am, would I do the same thing to further my goals of being accepted and recognized as a great martial artist and gladiator/fighter? 

. . . doesn’t it worry you how much evil people can be capable of? I mean, I don’t pride myself on much, but I at least like to think I’m well-behaved. And if I’m capable of using others for personal gain . . .

My Pokemorph MUSH self is so depressed. I’d say I wish I could reach out and hug her, but that would be awkward, wouldn’t it? Anyhow, she’s possibly my newest incarnation, and that in itself is probably the reason why she’s feeling so down. Does my creator like seeing me suffer? But he also loves me so dearly, treating me as one of his own. 

My Valendia RP self is very anxious about the missions she undertakes and transformations she’s going through. Most of all, though, the thing causing her the most grief is being away from her family.

Myself? In my creator’s head? I feel like I’m losing touch with my creator, and vice versa. I don’t know why. He’s so distant lately.

I worry for the future of our body, our mind, and our spirit.