A plan against Social Awkwardness

*scrawled marker writing on a virtual board – organised into the form of arrows, plots and a map. Listed via the LCD are various labels and objectives, methods and directions of assault, weaponry lists and armament stores, logistical routes, bombardment, troop movements… this is war.*

The lady standing at this board has pocketed the stylus and turned around.

Strategy. I take pride in it. It’s a right I’m here to damn well keep, too.

If someone wants to take that right, it’ll be over my cold, dead body. You just fucking try.

Anyway. That isn’t the point. I must advise you I don’t take kindly to patronisation. And I’m keeping my rights while I’m at it. That includes my damn dignity.

You think it’d probably be wise not to insult her while you’re at it.

These plans are being written up for an inquiry into social conduct. It’s come into question before and it needs to be analysed and understood before moving on.

Bigger picture, social dynamic has to be worked on, sealed down and resolved before anything else gets moving on. But it’s a deep subject.

Hence the strategy board.

Keeping my goddamn rights is… tradition.

Also with this, taking things by complete storm.

Now, this all has to be arbited and approved at some point by the personas responsible for auditing-arbitration and privacy, but believe me, innundations of stupid clueless Laana are long gone. Response times, reallocation and divesture… a lot of paperwork is being filed over in this brain, and it’s all in stability’s sake. Clarity of expression isn’t long off the horizon; it’s just where to find the damn thing.

Then? We might start getting into the meat and potatoes of this lot. I’ll get those resolutions. I’ll… kick the bastards in the fucking balls. And finally get some goddamn, bloody peace. *sigh*

The Last Front

Things have escalated. The times are trying and at times, people seem like they’re after my back to persecute me. It’s a rather perplexing predicament.

Shutting in? It’s still not healthy, and if I’m going to hold the last few cords keeping me together, I’ll have to move off them soon. Questions will be raised as to what and how, and if this is all really right; a reasoned, balanced judgement still must be made, at least to some extent (as my bureaucracy is with counsel…). But time is running out, more than ever. These strains are placing their knives to the throat of some very important strands of mind. Letting one of these fall would be enough to cause some very, very, very serious damage to whatever remains of my sanity.

Well, not that I’ve lost it.

And yet, I still question what, how? Corruption exists; to what extent? What amends will be made? Could I accidentally exacerbate the precarious situation, irritate yet more of my friends; hide, and create backstabbing and mutual mistrust by overcaution?

Whatever it is, there will be expression. It’s been too long.

Running; across all worlds, virtual, mental fantasy, real. Running, across escapism, from mistrust and misunderstanding, persecution and solitude, and trying to fill the void with what I never could myself. Running with what I have left of a soul, and order; running from corruption and without the tools to express it, and to keep an appreciation of reason, understanding and respect. I’d rather die first.

The fact is there. It needs to go to paper, words, diagrams or else. It needs to know it can be acted on. It needs to know hope exists in change of direction. It needs to know that corruption can’t take what’s left or punch through integrity, into the mental sanctum.

The last front. The last war. My mind and I; we are ready, and we will defend the last link to sanity to our death (not that I’m planning that any time soon… you’ll have to put up with me for a while yet ;) )