How Strange the Feeling: Part 2

It's not that I think you are weak. It's that I am strong, too. I don't think you see this. I don't think you comprehend this. I can understand that. It's not something I show to many people. It's nice to be mentally strong. It's nice to be emotionally strong. It's nice to be spiritually strong and of the types of strength, strength of spirit is most important, but I am a physical being on a material plane and there is strength there.

For the longest time, it's strength that I develop in a sort of fear. I don't know what I would do with a great deal of strength if I ever had to wield it, but things are different now. Now, I have a desire for that strength to be tangible. Felt. Expressed. I suppose I always have, but now the desire, having been so long ignored in my pursuits for milder, softer expressions has become a beast I can no longer contain... nor do I wish to. Such is the power of one conversation I suppose.

I will be seen for the warrior I am inside by whatever means. I don't know what that will cost me yet. I have my safeguards in place and I've made my plans and I've already taken steps that way.

The sad part, as I sit here in this office chair, is that I realize as I type that, even if no one helps me, I'm doing this anyway. In the quiet and in the shadow and I will simply use everything in my world to help me without telling them what they are feeding until this beast is fully grown.

Just thinking about this brings a flood of emotions, but mostly, it leaves all emotions feeling flat except for an express few. Now, I really want to fight someone. I need to focus on paperwork, but I'd rather wield a spear.


Polli, I made you make a promise. I really hope that you'll honor that. Things are a little bit worse in some ways than I originally thought.