Originally published at VampAmber's Clutter. Please leave any comments there.

The punishment for Pride is to have nothing to be proud of.

But how to achieve it? Well, there are the obvious things like making her unattractive, and to not let her be wealthy. Those are the obvious ones. But what of the rest? A short attention span is the solution. If she can’t stay interested in anything long enough to make her amazingly good at it, it will keep her from being prideful. An even worse torture is to give her the skills that would’ve made her better than most, had she the attention for it. Intelligence to spare, but easily bored by most anything. Grace and reflexes, but easily giving up. And endless curiosity, so that she’s always finding something new to sidetrack her from getting really good at what she’s currently doing. That last one is almost required. The best part is, she already had the aversion to boredom going in.

The ultimate punishment for the ultimate sin.

Originally published at VampAmber's Clutter. Please leave any comments there.

Love? She had no way to understand the concept. Some who had shared her bed had called that love, but she was fairly certain the woman (sorry, the goddess) lecturing her did not quite mean that particular type of love. According to the flimsy woman (definitely not a warrior’s build), it was something felt in the heart, especially in mortals. It was just so confusing the way she was explaining it. When you wanted something, you just took it, right? None of this bullshit “wooing” that seemed to be what the woman was getting at. But no matter how many times she said what a foreign idea it was to her, the goddess kept explaining it like something she should be feeling. Feelings, now there was something she had no use for. Stupid, drippy things, making people as stupid as the feeling. Not for her, definitely.

But Aphrodite would just not give up. Something about being chosen a really long time ago, about her lives being followed and full of those drippy things. Ha! Nothing could conquer her, especially nothing such as that! She’d die by the sword, by a mage’s hand, not by falling in love. Sounded unpleasant.

“But you must know it, feel it, embrace it.”

“Not feeling it,” she replied, sticking out her tongue. While gods did usually deserve respect, this one didn’t seem to warrant it.

“I’ve brought them all together. You’ll meet them, trust me. And there will be connections. You won’t be able to deny me any more, once you feel it.”

Damn, those stupid mortal existences she was supposed to have. This woman was going to mess them all up. She already knew the connections forged before her time would pull at others, bring them into her lives, but she didn’t realize it’d be by way of drippy emotions.

“The whole range of my emotions, you will go through them all. Unrequited, as well as heartbreak. Every degree of my touch you will feel on your heart.”

“No!” She did NOT like where this conversation was going.

“There will be the good side of my hand as well, in these emotions. You will experience the entire spectrum of my love. It will hurt at times, but it will be a pain that is far worth it.”

“Why would I subject myself to such pain? What if I just choose not to feel it?”

“When the time comes, you will ask for it.”

“Never!”

The woman smiled at that, sinking her stomach as far as it could go. “Never say never.” Then, as with most gods that she had met, the goddess was no longer there.

“I would never ask to be tortured in such a way.”

Tangled in the sheets, he said “I love you” to her and her heart melted. He kept saying it, and she was on cloud nine. She could never think of anything that would make her happier. Now we can date! Well… as soon as I break up with my boyfriend, at least. But he said he LOVED me!

Guilt over said boyfriend kept her from going any farther than making out, and when she said no, he stopped everything. He was pissed off at her, she could tell that. He wouldn’t be throwing daggers at that cardboard box if he weren’t. Did I fuck up that badly?

He told her he wouldn’t date her a few days later, when she asked. He said he didn’t have normal emotions, or some such shit. He was like a robot, according to him. He just took in information. He’d be bad for her. The days and weeks after that were hell. The worst part was, no matter how much of an ass hole he was to her, how many girls he dated, she was still in love with him. It tore her insides apart, but if he’d just said “I love you” again, all would be completely forgiven.

“Why did you say it?” she asked him. “Why did you have to say ‘I love you’?”

“To see if I could.” He responded. She actually felt her heart shatter. Every breath, she felt those shards of glass, covered in acid, pressing into her lungs.

“I’m sorry,” she said through tears. “I’m just not in love with you any more.” Her now ex boyfriend didn’t take that too well, but it was the truth. She had thought she wanted him, but it only lasted a few months, not the forever she was hoping for. It never did last.

Passion; there was plenty of that. His kisses were… electric. She assumed it was love, even though the smell was off. That was one of her weird quirks, the smell of guys she liked. He smelled like ketchup or salsa or something, and it was unappetizing. But damn if she wasn’t drawn to him. He was fairly drawn to her as well, judging by how often he pursued her. If only he didn’t have a girlfriend. But the smell, she just couldn’t quite get past it. He ended up not being good for her any way, ended up being a total jerk, always complaining about something.

She was depressed, that was damn certain. Kicked out of college, couldn’t seem to keep a job no matter how hard she tried. At the library, she met a boy (and that was all he felt like, a boy). She went too far, had sex with him. She hadn’t even known him a week. It killed her inside. She melted down completely. Couldn’t cope with things. What was wrong with her?

“I call him to me, the one meant for me.” She didn’t know where the words came from, but she said them anyway. Very powerful stuff.

He seemed great in the beginning. He made it past the usual three-month mark, so that had to be a sign, right? Even lasted past the year mark. But was she really happy? She lied to herself about being in love with him for the last few months of the relationship. She just wanted to feel love that badly.

“Gods damn it! The bitch was right!”

Originally published at VampAmber's Clutter. Please leave any comments there.

You ever get one of those days where nonexistence sounds like a good idea? Yeah, today’s one of those. I didn’t realize I was taking this being-single thing so seriously. I mean, I shouldn’t be this lonely without a significant other, right? But I am. And boy, is it pissing me off to no end. >_< I think my choices in men/women are kinda what's been doing me in, though. I've noticed I always go after the ones I can't have, or the ones I don't want. Baltes, couldn't have. Matt, didn't want. Plappert, couldn't have. Jim, didn't want. And the theme just keeps on popping up. I wish I could just figure out a way to get rid of my dating bad luck. Cuz I've always been unlucky when it came to dating, or even a social life in general. Maybe I need to find Lady Luck and piss on her, then uppercut Aphrodite. Maybe that would help. Or at least help me feel better.

In other, less-emo news, I might have a chance of staying in Dayton. My therapist was talking about these different shelters that I might be able to get into. I'm seeing the case-worker lady on Monday, so we can discuss a game plan then. ^_^

Oh, and I also started playing Final Fantasy VI last night. I fully blame Max. He's been harping on me to play it for damn near the entire time I've known him. I forgot how fun the FF games are, though. Not gonna get much sleep with that game waiting to be played now. Better than getting sleep and having nightmares, I guess.

Speaking of nightmares, I need to get a new dream catcher. I didn't have nightmares the entire time I had my old one, but lately I keep having them. The last one was only a few nights ago. I was in a bathroom with the lights off, and someone along the lines of Bloody Mary showed up. Now, I've had a fear of mirrors (especially ones in completely dark rooms) for most of my life, so this was actually one of my more frightening dreams. I've also started seeing the things in the mirror again, but let's not get into that.

So yeah, back to the self hatred. I'm pretty sure I have one of those social disorder thingies. Like, massive anxiety and such. So, when I go out, I get really self conscious. Not fun. I say one stupid thing, and agonize over it for hours, months, even years. But if I don't socialize, it kills me even more. So I guess it's the lesser of two evils. And yeah, still really lonely. I wish Max were single (and actually thought of me in that way). Oh well, quickly learning that I shouldn't listen when my heart skips a beat. >_<

Originally published at VampAmber's Clutter. Please leave any comments there.

The punishment for Pride is to have nothing to be proud of.

She was certainly proud, that was a well-known fact. She was the best at magic, was the mightiest warrior. She had grown so old and developed her powers so much that she could have everything she wanted at the snap of fingers. Great old spells, the ones that took many powerful being to cast together, she did on her own with better results than the groups. Wanted by all men, envied by all women (and wanted by most of them, as well), she was everything.

But she didn’t care. She’d had the power for so long it no longer made a difference. She was bored with it. Where is the pleasure in a thing if all that needs to be done to get it is snap your fingers? It was boring, so very boring. Even killing had grown dull. No man could best her at battle, and any man that tried ended up in her bed or in a grave (sometimes both in that order).

Her wings were sleek, large, powerful. She was one of the few that knew how to use them as a weapon as well as a shield. She would go into battle without weapons, arm tied behind her back with rope that would bind even her, just to show off. Her body was flawless, and if even that couldn’t entice who or what she wanted, she could change it at will to whatever she desired. It was such a good illusion that it could even fool others of her kind. She knew every weapon, was a master at each, but preferred daggers and black aura to do her battles, because you had to get that much closer to use them properly. But she was bored with it, with the battlefield, with carnal pleasures.

She chose to be punished. She didn’t care what they were punishing her for, it would just be something different. But she had earned the punishment, had been full of pride for so long it was entwined with every fiber of her being. She only got the punishment which she deserved. She may have went along willingly, but a punishment it was.

The punishment for Pride is to have nothing to be proud of. And she lives with it every day.

Originally published at VampAmber's Clutter. Please leave any comments there.

I seem to be entering into another one of those peaceful, contemplative states again. Unlike last time, I’m not taking this as a sign that I’m “cured” and quit my treatment. Instead, I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts.

Moving to Lakeview is an inevitable step. I can hate it and be depressed about it all I want, but I’m stuck doing it. John can try and make it worse (and believe me, he will try his hardest), but he can only succeed if I let him. I’ll have my books to read, and I’ll hopefully be able to beg my mom for gas money to come into town a few times a month. I’ll try for Social Security, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll try harder. I’ll serve my sentence, because the gods know I deserve some form of punishment (I’d get into why, but it’d take at least twenty pages, if not more so). I will go through all this, I will try and get healthy, and I will come back to Dayton. I will once again appreciate this place as a man dying of thirst appreciates an endless supply of ice cold water. I will get healthy, and some day I might be what’s considered normal, mentally. And while most of my “friends” deserve those quotation marks, the ones who truly care will be by my side as often as possible.

My goal for this time up in Lakeview is to survive. I will read, I will write, I will play all the way through Final Fantasy VI so Max will get off my back, and I will survive. I just need to keep reminding myself of that. And maybe take up meditation again. That’s helped before, it might help now.

Originally published at VampAmber's Clutter. Please leave any comments there.

I’m starting to have hope again, and that’s even scarier than not having any. I mean, some things I know will never be to my liking, but those I can get over, right? I mean hell, I got over Baltes, didn’t I? Though admittedly, I only did because of what he told me when I asked why he had said he loved me. “To see if I could.” That bastard. But yeah, over him (even if he does occasionally pop up in my dreams). So that means I can get over those damn heart skipping moments, too. Because my heart lies to me, tells me things that aren’t real, makes me feel magnets and such when I don’t deserve them, and can’t have them anyway. I mean, I’ll eventually have to find some guy (or girl) who I can stay with for the long haul, right? I mean, it’s hard to understand what anybody would see in me, what with me being fat and ugly and crazy, but somebody will eventually come along that will forgive me my flaws, right? I just pray that I won’t be alone forever. That sense of dread behind that feeling is false, right?

But I digress. What I have hope about is that I might actually get back into Wright State. A dream for the last four years, that dangling carrot that was always lowered into my view only to be yanked away and rip pieces of my soul with it. Am I actually crazy enough to get onto Social Security? Because I’m pretty sure that’ll be the only way I can ever afford to go back. I owe, between Wright State bills and loans, about $70,000 or so at this point. Not exactly easy to pay off something like that making minimum wage and paying other bills at the same time, is it? But at least if I get onto SSI or SSD, I can start paying it off. I’m so terrified that it won’t go through, though. I was turned down the last time I tried for Social Security. I’ve been hospitalized twice since then, though, and haven’t kept a job longer than four months for the span of my entire life. I don’t know, I’m just so afraid any more. My entire life will be decided in the next few months, and I’ve reached the point where I have no more say in the matter. My fate now lies in the hands of government officials (and we all know fucked up those people are). Gods, I’m just so scared.

Originally published at VampAmber's Clutter. Please leave any comments there.

There are many different types, or levels if you prefer, of psychic and supernatural awareness. As anybody could guess, the one end of the spectrum is the dud, the void, the psychically deaf and blind. It’s not to mean that they are better or worse than anybody else (though they do tend to be safer in the long run), but they have no awareness of anything psychic. They don’t see ghosts, get hunches or have amazing intuition from powers. But in return, all supernatural creatures tend to ignore them, thus they are safer from the “bad” beings out there, the ones labeled demon by most churches.

Between the two ends of the spectrum are all the in-betweens, which is an obvious conclusion. These include at least 95% of all those with any power, skill or sensitivity whatsoever.

On the other end of this spectrum is two types of sensitives. There are those who overflow. They bring in energy from all around them, whether naturally or by choice, and are either unable or incapable of carrying around that much power in their current incarnation. These are the types that tend to be gifted as children, able to do much more than most. As for the second type, they are the dampers. Psychic vampires are the most well-known type in this category. They exist to bring this unnecessary energy, and help it be put back to where it belongs, where it needs to go. They are almost like funnels, in a way, but they are still of the most powerful. Simply put, while they may funnel everything through themselves, the residue is more than most people have a chance of seeing their whole lives. Thus, they are at the exact same spot on the spectrum.

Originally published at VampAmber's Clutter. Please leave any comments there.

In the beginning, the world existed. There was no big bang, there was no Genesis. The world existed, just as it always had. Into this world there spilled souls, countless of them, with more being created every day. There were souls in all living creatures: the mammals, the fish, the birds, the humans. There were also gods. They were souls, just like any other, but they were different as well. They knew how to decide things. And without knowing it, they decided to watch over each soul that went through to the world, and to occasionally choose ones they liked. Each god chose their “favorites” and helped them out more than the other souls. The favorites, the gods’ own, as they were called, were not picked because they worshiped more, or because they were more beautiful, or more dutiful, or anything as mortal as that. They were chosen because, to that particular god, the soul shone, more-so than any of the others. It was almost as if they were picked before they were picked.

During this time, before time really had a meaning, the gods all existed at once. The ones that would not be worshiped until far later were there just as much as the ones who had many followers already. Just as the world always had existed, so would the gods. There was no beginning, as there will be no end. There is only ever a new chapter, a new place, a new time.

And through the gods passed many, many souls. Occasionally, a god would choose one of their Chosen, and would keep them around for a bit longer than the other souls. Such as happened with one nymph. She was a soul still, still in her purest form, but she would go on to be a nymph one day, among other things. The goddess of love, Aphrodite as the Greeks would eventually call her, chose this particular soul. She shone with the light of love; not just the light of romantic love, but the light of platonic love, of familial love, of every type of love there ever was and ever will be. And thus she became one of Aphrodite’s Own. But she was not just love. She had the soul of a trickster as well. She enjoyed playing games, making enjoyment out of everything. She was cunning, quick witted, and quite amusing to the god who would some day be called Loki. So, even though it was not usually done, he claimed the soul as well. So now this would-be nymph was Loki’s Own, as well.

Through each lifetime that the soul went through, she was equal parts of her two deities. She was the playful lover, the amusing friend. She loved passionately, and with all her being, and she led some of the most interesting lives she could come up with. She was equal parts love and play, but within her, it worked perfectly.

And so it will be for all time.

Originally published at VampAmber's Clutter. Please leave any comments there.

In your existence, you are the most powerful person. In your world view, you are the one that makes the changes. If you want a change to happen, you make it happen. By saying that you can’t do something, it therefore makes it that you can’t do it. It’s a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy that way. Words have more power than you think, because words form thoughts, ideas, feelings. If you felt sad, you wouldn’t know how to feel it without the words that encompass the emotion. Thus, if your words and thoughts make such an impact on yourself, wouldn’t thinking differently change everything around you? The word “can’t” should not exist, because by clarifying the word, you give in to the negativeness of the word. You can do anything you want, anything you can dream of. You just have to believe it completely. You can’t have those thoughts in the back of your head about how it’s impossible, or you can’t do it, or it won’t work. See it, believe it, be it. If you change your world, the world itself changes. So think “can” and “will” and “am.” Because those words have a power. An amazing power. Those words can and will change the world. I am changing the world.

Originally published at VampAmber's Clutter. Please leave any comments there.

The secret to a happy life, I have found, isn’t so much having nothing bad happen, it’s the ability to look at those bad things, experience them, live through them, and keep on smiling afterward. I’m learning this. I am happy with everything in my life. I am happy with my job, my singleness, my friends, my family, my flaws, my strengths, my weaknesses. And if any of those things change, I will still be happy. Everything bad, everything good, it’s all a part of living. You experience each thing as it comes along, live it fully, then move on to the next thing when the time comes. The shrinks all called it “mindfulness.” I can see why they were pushing it on me.

I felt sick today at work, and still feel a bit sick right now. I am feeling every bit of the stomach pains, and smiling the whole while. To feel pain is to know you’re alive.

But don’t get me wrong, I’m still the same Amber as before. I still get angry, I still can feel sadness. It just stopped lasting longer than it was supposed to. I’m actually thinking of telling my therapist at my appointment that I’m ready to have my case file closed. I don’t see this feeling ending any time ever. I’m definitely going off the meds. I don’t think I need them any more.

Originally published at VampAmber's Clutter. Please leave any comments there.

For so long, I’ve felt like a part of me was missing. Seriously, it felt like there were holes in me or something. But I feel better now. There’s really no way to fully explain it, but I guess you could say I found my spirituality again. And this time, I plan on keeping.

It’s all about how you think and what you honestly believe to be true, when you get down to it. I thought I couldn’t find spirituality, which was true because I thought it to be true. So all I ended up needing to do is make myself 100% certain that I was fine, and then I was. Sounds far fetched, right? It’s true, though. You can make just about anything happen if you believe hard enough. Even feeling like a whole person.

In other, non-crazy news, I bought an herb kit when I went to pick up my check at work today. I planted them earlier, and now I can’t wait until those little bitty seeds start sprouting. It’ll be interesting learning to cook with fresh herbs, too. The parsley and chives are gonna be my favorites, I think.

Originally published at VampAmber's Clutter. Please leave any comments there.