LOST OCTS - Blog


Jul 30, 2056 The days are slow here in the medbay. Very few people come and go. Basically no one stops to talk to me. Sam is watching me like a hawkfish. I can’t stand without support, because it’s making me feel faint. My nausea is horrific. My blood pressure is shot. Sharp pains all along my back and gut. Sam says I’ve nearly died on her twice now, but it’s so hard for either of us to tell when I’m actually dying. She says she can tell when I start to go, because I get ghost white from the skin to the tentacles, my eyes stop reacting to light, I freeze up completely with my limbs limp, and my blood pressure monitor starts screaming. It’s probably internal bleeding at multiple sites. I really don’t want her to risk herself by performing much more invasive surgeries on me. She’s taken some convincing, but I’ve explained to her that my body will eventually heal them with time. A little bit of internal bleeding isn’t going to do much to me, but it being in apparently so many areas is hitting me rather hard. How hard did Halsey slam me into the ground...? I’m suffering awful neuropathy too. I was never as flexible as some other squids, so my spine is probably torn. I’m just healing excruciatingly slow, as I do. The sanitized body is always destroying itself and rebuilding itself simultaneously, such is my state of undeath, so taking a beating this bad means I’m going to be waiting a while for my body to patch itself up. I feel awful. About everything. I keep thinking that I should’ve gone with Leftist. It means I’d have to break my promise to Ripley, though, and I’d never do such a thing. Even if she hates me. I really have failed Ripley. I let myself slip and now I’m everything she hates and that I knew she hated. I thought if there was anyone who would understand my actions, it was her. I’m still… right, in that regard, but she’s cut ties with me either way. The only people I have left are either leaving or planning to leave. Sure, there’s Klausia, but… I’m not sure she’d really understand. I will still keep my promise to Ripley. I will see her through to the end, I will get her home. The only real relief Sam, Jason, and Zana are capable of providing me is keeping me dosed on opiates and sedatives. Knock me out for hours at a time, and when I’m awake, I’ve got Dedf1sh on loop or I’m making music that makes me feel like I’m insane. Sam says she’s never seen me look so haunted than when I’m up at 4am in my bed, staring at my computer screen with my headphones in and mixing. Heeey, at least it gave me my inspiration back...? Win-lose kind of scenario, but... I guess I’ll take it. In my awful drug-high naps, not aided by psychosis, I’ve been dreaming about Leftist. His name is so striking to me. With access to the human internet, I looked up its meaning, and I now feel like it was all a sign. The god of beginnings and ends. The god of choices. The god of transition. In my dreams I see him like that. He’s a sign of things to come. I don’t know how to tell him I’m not ready. Castle came to talk to me, actually. I'm not sure either of us got anything out of it. My throat's not healing as fast as he'd like it, I guess, but I'm gonna be raspy for a while. Even though we have weird magic and tech and shit, doesn't mean I'm not gonna be recovering for a long bit here. Especially since my body is fighting itself and slowing the healing process down. I'm not sure he completely understands that he's a part of the problem. He seemed up-in-arms when I suggested that. He's so contrary it's frustrating. But at least he'll give me the time of day. I really wasn't expecting anyone to do that. Not like Halsey's story will be much different than mine... Castle is less worried about that and more worried about Ripley. He suggests I've said something against her, but other than my passing jokes, I don't recall ever doing something like that. I don't speak ill about Ripley. At worst, I jest to mess with her, but she knows I mean it in a lighthearted, playful kind of way. So I don't know what he's talking about. It doesn't help that he didn't clarify, either. Ask him as many questions as I can, and I don't think I'll ever get a clear-cut answer from him. He suggested we need to just drop this and forget it. What does he think I'm trying to do? I want to forget. I can forget. Easily. Nobody else can. Does he not remember my talk with Zana? He was there, standing next to him, when we had it. Unlike the military hard-heads of this group, I can't just "let go" of stress. How dare I say people like him could learn a little bit of compassion, back then. Just for him to turn it around on me. What did I do...? What did I do. Who else have I wronged? Who else is lying to me, and why? What is there to gain? The stories conflict. Every perspective is different. Who tells the truth, and who lies? Why did this make it worse? Morphine is not enough for my migraines anymore.	Navigation - Home - Archive - Guestbook - More

Jul 30, 2056

The days are slow here in the medbay.
Very few people come and go. Basically no one stops to talk to me.

Sam is watching me like a hawkfish. I can’t stand without support, because it’s making me feel faint. My nausea is horrific. My blood pressure is shot. Sharp pains all along my back and gut. Sam says I’ve nearly died on her twice now, but it’s so hard for either of us to tell when I’m actually dying. She says she can tell when I start to go, because I get ghost white from the skin to the tentacles, my eyes stop reacting to light, I freeze up completely with my limbs limp, and my blood pressure monitor starts screaming.

It’s probably internal bleeding at multiple sites. I really don’t want her to risk herself by performing much more invasive surgeries on me. She’s taken some convincing, but I’ve explained to her that my body will eventually heal them with time. A little bit of internal bleeding isn’t going to do much to me, but it being in apparently so many areas is hitting me rather hard.
How hard did Halsey slam me into the ground...?

I’m suffering awful neuropathy too. I was never as flexible as some other squids, so my spine is probably torn.
I’m just healing excruciatingly slow, as I do. The sanitized body is always destroying itself and rebuilding itself simultaneously, such is my state of undeath, so taking a beating this bad means I’m going to be waiting a while for my body to patch itself up.

I feel awful. About everything.
I keep thinking that I should’ve gone with Leftist. It means I’d have to break my promise to Ripley, though, and I’d never do such a thing. Even if she hates me.

I really have failed Ripley. I let myself slip and now I’m everything she hates and that I knew she hated.
I thought if there was anyone who would understand my actions, it was her. I’m still… right, in that regard, but she’s cut ties with me either way.
The only people I have left are either leaving or planning to leave. Sure, there’s Klausia, but… I’m not sure she’d really understand.
I will still keep my promise to Ripley. I will see her through to the end, I will get her home.

The only real relief Sam, Jason, and Zana are capable of providing me is keeping me dosed on opiates and sedatives. Knock me out for hours at a time, and when I’m awake, I’ve got Dedf1sh on loop or I’m making music that makes me feel like I’m insane. Sam says she’s never seen me look so haunted than when I’m up at 4am in my bed, staring at my computer screen with my headphones in and mixing.
Heeey, at least it gave me my inspiration back...?
Win-lose kind of scenario, but... I guess I’ll take it.

In my awful drug-high naps, not aided by psychosis, I’ve been dreaming about Leftist.
His name is so striking to me. With access to the human internet, I looked up its meaning, and I now feel like it was all a sign.
The god of beginnings and ends. The god of choices. The god of transition.
In my dreams I see him like that. He’s a sign of things to come. I don’t know how to tell him I’m not ready.

Castle came to talk to me, actually. I'm not sure either of us got anything out of it. My throat's not healing as fast as he'd like it, I guess, but I'm gonna be raspy for a while. Even though we have weird magic and tech and shit, doesn't mean I'm not gonna be recovering for a long bit here. Especially since my body is fighting itself and slowing the healing process down.

I'm not sure he completely understands that he's a part of the problem. He seemed up-in-arms when I suggested that. He's so contrary it's frustrating. But at least he'll give me the time of day. I really wasn't expecting anyone to do that.
Not like Halsey's story will be much different than mine...

Castle is less worried about that and more worried about Ripley. He suggests I've said something against her, but other than my passing jokes, I don't recall ever doing something like that. I don't speak ill about Ripley. At worst, I jest to mess with her, but she knows I mean it in a lighthearted, playful kind of way.
So I don't know what he's talking about. It doesn't help that he didn't clarify, either. Ask him as many questions as I can, and I don't think I'll ever get a clear-cut answer from him.

He suggested we need to just drop this and forget it. What does he think I'm trying to do?
I want to forget. I can forget. Easily.
Nobody else can.

Does he not remember my talk with Zana? He was there, standing next to him, when we had it. Unlike the military hard-heads of this group, I can't just "let go" of stress.
How dare I say people like him could learn a little bit of compassion, back then. Just for him to turn it around on me. What did I do...?

What did I do. Who else have I wronged? Who else is lying to me, and why? What is there to gain?
The stories conflict. Every perspective is different. Who tells the truth, and who lies?
Why did this make it worse?

Morphine is not enough for my migraines anymore.

Navigation

- Home
- Archive
- Guestbook
- More