A me-andi-tormiam, a mandatum, A thing which must be done


    It’s minute 5 after taking the any anxiety and I’m losing my vocabulary. For that I apologize, but the work must be done; only through active activity can one alter his or her mental state. This is a central tenent in DBT Dialecticle Behavioral Therapy. I make it my goal in this moment to write out what I would like to change.                                                                 First, I would like to loosen my dependence on the outside stimulur of facebook to lessen my feelings of loveliness. lonliness. “OH god. Christ jesus. Why do I feel alone? ”  <- this part is a very small portion of my brain right above my spine that cries in the dark and hopes for something quick and easy to swoop under me in the deus ex machina of fairytales and rescue me from my own brain. But the forebrain refuses to deal with the screaming little fucker. It’s a hard world, and the only way we’re gonna get through this is through the application of logic and reason. COME ON. There’s no time for this bullshit. Stand up and stand straight and grit your teeth and grin becasue that’s all there is to do. Please. I’m only going to ask you once.

Or what? What could you possibly do to me that I haven’t experienced already? Hello! I’m in here, trapped, tortured, alone, so very alone, without anything. Whagt could you do to me? toss me out? kill me? sedate me?

Well you may be right. I’ve underestimated you. I thought you were a quivering pile of terror and puke. Now I realize your just a pile of puke. You think you can logic me? reason with me? who the hell do you think you are. I am the general. The head. the Mind. The Master of All I See and Hear and Smell and Touch. You will obey me.

Oh what.

(walks slowly towards him)

what did you say?

Or. What. 


Or else I’ll take your form and suck it dry and run this ship through your singed synapses. I will leave you a shell. A battery extension. I will empty you completely and we. will. survive. without you. Now stand up

id stands up to his full height. Smiles. Salutes. Straightens his uniform. 


Yes liutenant?

What if all I want is to be a shell.

he reachs around and pulls the cord from his own skull. The lights shut down immediate. The screeching of cogs fills the cabin as smoke belches from various holes in the wall. 

My dear god he’s actually done it. 

Bolts for the wall and immdiately begins plugging numbers into the console. a loud buzzing bgins

*Captain to engine room. Do you read me? We have a code red zero alpha on our hands, to you read me. 

lights go down. Silence.



gasp, QUICKLY, MOUNT THE EMERGCY POWER SUPPLY AND RERought it, growing fainter, and fainter






Officer? I read you. 

sir, this is the engine room. we have limitted visual contact, and limmitted mobility in the metacarpal reagion., cognition is still grinding at 25 percent capacty, but at least there is movement. Sir, I have an idea. I’m picking up readings of an external stimuli of a potential emotional neture. it’s possible to reroute the energy into the ships main thursters and give us a little mental cpacity.

go ahead officer, keep me updated on the condition. we cannot have a repeat of the Crash. Go with god officer. 


aye aye captain, aye aye


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