Master Marksman

Por cuestiones que aún no comprendo, esta entrada será escrita en inglés.

He appeared a few days ago. Silently, stealthily, deadly. At least, that's what I perceived of him when he first arrived. I have seen his face once, only when he arrived and, for some reason I still don't understand, presented himself. Tall and silent, with a strong jaw and a shadow. Steel blue eyes, fair skin, and golden hair. He had a bow with him, a bow with which he claimed to have ended many lives. His voice was cold and distant, and his eyes just seemed inhuman. I haven't seen him since that day, but I know he's been lurking around. It's as if he's chasing me, learning my movements and waiting for the right time to strike. I'm not sure if I should be worried or thrilled.

I don't comprehend him much, but I do know some things about him. He seems to be a charmer, which should be quite good in his environment, but I think there's something else to it. He just seems... Twisted. His actions seem calm and collected, but I somehow feel there's a huge storm raging inside of him. I've sometimes heard him practicing with his bow somewhere at the distance, but it might just have been the wind. I hardly hear his arrows flying through the air to hit those targets he made himself. My mind is telling me to be careful around him. However, I can't help it. There's an odd curiosity that just compels me to understand why he does what he does.

I wonder how many people have died by his arrows. He seems to be good at what he does; otherwise he wouldn't be around here without a care in the world. I think he's looking for something here. Maybe an alliance? I can't be sure. All I know is I have to be careful around him.

I don't want to find an arrow through my head.

En una mente torturada

Muchas veces pienso que mi mente es como una gran y magnífica ilusión. En ciertos momentos, es el lugar más hermoso del mundo, lleno de secretos por ser descubiertos, recuerdos tan frágiles y hermosos como cristales de hielo y un potencial inigualable. En otros momentos, es el lugar más espantoso, horripilante y completamente terrorífico del mundo. Se vuelve una prisión fría e insensible, jugando con mi percepción del mundo. Pareciera incluso que intenta matarme.

Últimamente, mi mente se ha encuentrado en el segundo estado por bastante tiempo.

Presa de dudas que nunca antes había sentido, mi mente se niega a descanzar. Cuando me corresponde presentar exámenes, se niega a cooperar. Cuando necesito dormir, lanza las preguntas más ponzoñosas para lastimar a Morfeo. La oscuridad que había en mi mente se ha vuelto asesina de su huésped, verdugo de los sueños de un joven que aspira a la perfección a pesar de saber que nunca lo será, inquisidor de los principios más profundos y arraigados de un soñador.

Con una mente así, ¿quién desea enemigos?

Oh, pero los tiene. Por si fuera poco, tiene preferencias por ciertas personas. Si no cumplen los estándares, los odia aún más que a su huésped. Debido a ésto, el huésped actúa de acuerdo a los deseos de la misma en lugar de pensar clara y astutamente. Junto con ésto, mi humor está por los suelos, mi autoestima ha simplemente desaparecido y la confianza y determinación de antaño se han evaporado en millones de pequeñas exhalaciones del alma.

Encerrado en una mente torturada, sin salida alguna mas que la propia mente. ¿Qué estás dispuesto a sacrificar?

"Si l'espoir a meurt, pourra-t'il rennaitre?"

"Écoute-mois crier aux portes de l'Enfer! Regarde-moi tomber sans plus personnes derrière, redévenir poussière..."