Wavering

A numb pain flowed from her arm. It made her uncomfortable. She looked where the branch jut out from betwixt the two bones in her forearm.
She was in a pit, a lush bright brown hole of moss and grass and dirt;
dirt from where the roots of a tree had torn the top layers of soil from the earth.
It was long covered over now,
Long enough that there was now moss and patches of grass and small plants
and long enough that there was this fucking adolescent tree.
This tree whose branch had intruded in on her arm.
She failed to take hold of her senses, Her mind’d left her in an uncanny state.

In the distance, it seemed, a hazy figure, blue like the sky, moved with purpose;
Then it stopped.

Ah, the King is awake.

The voice touched her ears, but seemed to skip the formality of her nervous system.
a strange feeling
This person was not her sister.
She didn’t much like the voice thath’d interjected itself into her mind.

The person looked around, a blue glowing blur,
twelve percent of your blood is shared with Mother Earth.

It was definitely a man, but his voice wasn’t particularly deep.
It’s pitch was higher even than Natasha’s, although, her tone was low due to the immense height of her trachea. She is very tall.
Janna blinked, slowly. Her eyelids were sore. She tried to focus. nothing worked.

You have fluid in your eyes, focusing will not help you.

Janna became irritated with the glowing man in front of her.

You’ll be fine in this line, he said. In certain distant timelines you lose more… you lose too much. A drop of cobalt fell from his face.

He stood over her, outlined in azure. Through her wavering eyes, she could see wisps, lines of light coming from him.

She didn’t like any of it
so she told him, You can leave now.

He said, I came to ask for your help.

You thought now would be the best time?
Take advantage of me because I’m dying?
You can take that straight to the abyss.

Umm, no… I mean, as far as I can tell, you aren’t going to die. and even if you were, I don’t know if I could really help you.

Janna tried to focus on the figure, but her vision waved.
She was pissed off. What an annoying man, like a man to be this indecisive. He isn’t talking so fancy anymore. God damn, a fucking actor.
She said, I don’t know what you want, so either spit it out so that I can disagree with it, or leave me alone.

I am the Servant of Tendrils, I can see into future timelines… although too far ahead there are too many tendrils to know anything.
From what I can tell we can benefit the next few years if we work together.
You have influence, and an open mind.

Janna sneered, Not that open.

She looked at her arm. It’d become crimson. Where the hell is Chloe?

Why don’t you help me first.
I’ll talk to your dumbass after
when I’m not attached to goddamn plant.

Tendrils frowned, I thought that you would agree, but… maybe my reading was wrong.

At this Janna cursed the sky.
The idiot is talking fancy shit again.
Then she cursed the being in front of her.
For being a fraud.

Yeah, maybe you are wrong.
So why don’t you help me—by leaving me alone.

Tendrils’ teeth glowed, irritated.
I didn’t come here to help you! I need your help! Don’t you understand what I am?

Janna’s head slumped to face him.
A fucking glowstick?
I can tell exactly what you are! She judged, I can tell you’re an actor, a fraud, you’re presenting me with a false version of yourself,
A false reality!
I don’t want it!
Leave me alone, you said I’ll survive? Well that’s fucking great. That’s all I want from you. Fuck off!

No! He shouted, flaring to the colour of lightning.
No. he calmed.
no.
I’m a Servant of the conscious world,
I see the future…in a sense. But I can’t affect anything in the way that people like you can.
I can communicate, I can,
with people whose minds aren’t as firmly attached to the physical world, even if it is only while they are in states like this,
I can communicate with people like you.

 

 

 

 

 

Then she opened her eyes again.
She said,
and then she didn’t.
She said,
Well, I’d be far more willing to work with you if you were more honest like that all the time.
And shed a tear;pearl (of wisdom)

You will help me then?

Janna closed her eyes, and then her world focused.

“She has gone catatonic. Oh good, the bleeding has slowed! Although, it is probably from being catatonic.”

Janna opened her eyes. Her younger sister was kneeling over her. Behind, her older sister loomed. Janna saw that she was also bleeding in the forearm.

“Oh, look Natasha, she’s awake! Actually, ah, maybe that’s not so good. Hey, you can take a little pain, I guess?”

Janna felt a pinch as Chloe’s arms moved over her wound. She said nothing.

“Actually, it’s better to be awake when you’re hurt like this. I think. Hey Natasha, do you have a, ah, do you have a knife? Of course you do, we just used it, haah… Can you hold the top, I don’t want it to move until I’m done.”

Janna closed her eyes, but the Servant of Tendrils didn’t return. She wondered if he knew her answer?

“She is dead now,” Natasha said.

“Hey, wake up!”

Janna gave a shallow nod.

“I wish you would open your eyes. Look Natasha, just hold that and I’ll cut it, and then I can pull it—Ah!”

It was dark for a long time, and then she saw blue.

“Oh no.”

“Do you think she will be all right?”

“I think so. I’m not really, ah, I don’t actually… I’m not a doctor so…”

She heard another voice, “Can we move her yet?”

“You know,” Janna blinked back into focus, “for a Servant, Tendrils sure is a dumbass.”

Chloe gave her a perplexed look, “Not Death?”

Janna laughed weakly,
I think I prefer Tendrils to Death

This work was written while healthy, and edited whilst somewhat sleep deprived, and mildly famished. Or, to put it simply, in a state of Wavering.

Daniel Triumph.

You can follow me:
For updates: Facebook, and Twitter
for art: DeviantArt and Instagram.

P.S. This is the third draft of “The Wavering World.” I’m much more satisfied with it than I was with the second draft.

P.P.S. I think this is my first piece with swearing! How edgy~

The Curse of Sleep

The curse of sleep is found without.
The mind moves—
Legs caught in water—
Consciousness stifled— —
like molasses.

Wakefulness perpetuates itself,
Sweet like honey.
Keeping your brain,
not quite alive

go to sleep deadened,
wake the same.
Do I feel tired?

Do I even feel the feeling of feeling tired?

No, that feeling isn’t happened.
Behind the molasses.
Like a fly,
sit in sludge
made sick.
But still—
awake

So, this one I’ve been holding onto and editing for a good month, but I figured now is the perfect time to release it. Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, a 72 hour period, I had a solid 10.5 hours of sleep. I don’t know how I managed to complete all my assignments (I’ll be posting a couple of them here), and also go to (some) classes, but I did. Last night, despite waking up twice (why can’t I sleep?), I managed to sleep for 13 hours. So… fitting time to release this finally.

I still think there’s something wrong with it haha.

Daniel Triumph.

You can follow me:
For updates: Facebook, and Twitter
for art: DeviantArt and Instagram.

Internal Dialogue (poem)

I don’t have time
to do this and that
I have to study

But I read too slow
so studying takes
all of my time.

I’ll learn
to speed read

Speed reading reduces retention.
It’s just skimming.
Tai Lopez doesn’t read a book a day
he just skims.

Looks like reading faster takes practice
like any other skill

The only way to speed up is
to read a lot
of difficult texts.
For months!

Which means I have months
maybe years of slow reading ahead.

At least I don’t have to worry
about trying to read faster
I read university textbooks
It will happen on it’s own

Maybe.

So, class, studying, and on top of that
I want to maintain this blog

It’s my longest lasting project
I wouldn’t have worked so hard
If it meant nothing.

I guess I have no objections

At the moment.

But if I’m reading
all the time then

There is no free time.

Write into the night.
Then just
write into your sleep!

I of all people should know that when I don’t get enough sleep, I read slower, retention drops further, I can’t focus in class. That means studying cuts into, or erases, time for the blog, or the quality of the blog.

Okay.
I was wrong, I need sleep.
Otherwise I get like that.
But then what?

I’ll figure everything out with
time management using
the agenda
Then I can see what’s going on
and make room for everything

Oh look, the agenda’s full.
Now I have actual proof
that there’s no time.

I don’t know what to do about this.

Uhhg. You know this part of the mind
doesn’t like doing actual work,
Just criticizing!

Anyway

Why not put the blog into the agenda.
If it’s important, it should hold
equal footing with anything else.

That’s genius
Man I’m so smart

Yes I am.

Agreed

Wonderful.

Wait, if it was full before
I still have to make room.
By dropping something.

No no, it’s cool look
I had full days dedicated to things
that only take maybe half a day

I need to get used to this
I’ll have to adjust to managing time
I have time to do something else
after I’m done the first task

Instead of slacking.

My time has been getting choked off by a lot of things. I’m travelling this weekend, and I don’t know how that will go. Then I have a couple of essays to work on next week. On top of readings.

But, despite the drop from daily to a sort of bi-weekly posting schedule, I have managed to maintain this blog, so, hopefully I can keep it up during the next two weeks… and then into exams come December.

yep.

Anyway, for those following the Solune Prince, I have started the next chapter. I might also make an update post, or maybe a post on plot motivations or something. Either way, that particular narrative is a bit of a mess and fixing will take quite a bit of work. For now, it goes on as it is.

Although I have been outline and planning scenes and even acts since I started putting names in the titles (Act II, Scene xi), so at least I’m not just blind-writing like was the case with Evidence. (Kind of scared to go back and edit that one to be honest.)

Sometimes I think to cancel it though

But what I’ll learn through the process and by finishing is worth the fight!

Daniel Triumph.

You can follow me:
For updates: Facebook, and Twitter

for art: DeviantArt and Instagram.

If you want, you can help me out on Patreon (https://www.patreon.com/DanielTriumph)

P.S.

I think the reason I’m doing poetry so much is because I’m reading poetry so much :[

The Djeb Guard

We are here, we watch the city.

We are the ones who respond.
If they come with hands open to take, or hands closed to hit.
If they come with words that are false, or words that are threats.
We are the ones who respond.

We are here, we watch the city.
We walk overnight, we walk overday.
We walk along paths, we walk overland.
If you need any help, call the guard of the Djeb.

They call to us, of a winged creature. I respond.
They come to me, they fear the unknown.
I stand for them, I am their safety.
I must remain calm.

The guard’s process.
Step one is discover. What is the conflict?
Step two is confirm. What is the nature?
Step three is intervene. Can it be done by reason?

Step one is discover. I speak to them, what is the conflict?
The creature entered the city, It isn’t too big.
The creature entered the city, it looks just like us.
She is smaller though.

I speak to them. What has it done?
Voices, murmurs, shrugs, suspicion.
Wings, a sword, teeth, suspicion.
I cannot act on suspicion.

Step two is confirm. I must speak to the creature.
She says she is Yaska, from the east.
She says she is passing through, to an inn.
She says— I interrupt her.

Yaska May Dawngale,
Yaska, one of the five Solune Legends.
Yaska, one of the heroes of the east.
Yaska, unbelievable might.
Yaska, of the Plainkind.

Step three is intervene. I must reason with the people.
The Plainkind has not caused any trouble.
The Plainkind should not be suspicious.
The Plainkind is a Solune hero.

The flames rise into the sky, and we respond.
How could this happen, here on the shore?

“Get the people out of the district.”

The flames cannot be stopped.

They spread along buildings and homes.

I watch.

What can we do?

“Hannah, focus on the people.”

I focus on the people.
I focus on the process.
The guard’s process.

Step one is discover.
The conflict is not the fire, it’s the people escaping it.
Step two is confirm.
The nature is not to rescue the homes, it’s to rescue the people.

Step three is intervene. Can it be done by reason?
I say, “take them to the eastern district.”
I say, “take them across the canal.”
I say, “take them, lead them there.”

Guards discover people in homes, so they don’t get trapped.
Guards create checkpoints, to confirm their path, and their safety.
Guards intervene with inns, to find places for them.

The people are safe, but the fires still burn.
It moves towards the east.
It moves towards the canal.

It’s too big for a line of buckets.
But we try nonetheless.

I take an empty bucket,
I fill it with seawater,
I pass it down the line,
I take an empty bucket…

The rhythm of buckets,
has become automatic.

And I stare out into the sea.
The islands of mountains.
The dim of the sky.
The winged shadow.
Rising from the east.

It shot from the city, into the air.
It shot from the air, over the sea.
It shot from the sea, onto an island.

Suddenly, the tip of the mountaintop breaks off.
A feat of strength, it’s lifted from its perch.
I watch as it’s launched into the air.
I watch as it falls into the sea, just off the shore.
I watch the waves, they echo off the island.
They head towards our shoreline.

I point, I shout, “tidal wave”

The guards follow the path of the people.
We exit to the eastern district.
And the waves come to the flames.

Water hits the shore and rises,
Momentum cracks against the beaches.
The waves hit the buildings,
And the flames drown.

“Do you think my wave did more damage than the fire might have?”

Hannah shrugged, “a drenched and damaged structure is better than a pile of ash.”

Daniel Triumph.

You can follow me:
For updates: Facebook, and Twitter
for art: DeviantArt and Instagram.

If you want, you can help me out on Patreon (https://www.patreon.com/DanielTriumph)

P.S.

Somewhat inspired by a couple of songs from Falling Up’s second album, Dawn Escapes: Searchlights and Marathons. This is a situation in the Djeb that I’ve been thinking about for a while. Never thought it would come out as a sort of long poem though.