genessia | 09 BRAINS ; anonymous text

Back home, I had a purpose. I had focus. Something to make my life feel like it's not just myself I'm looking out for. Now that I'm here, I still have to do the same reprehensible things I did back home. The difference here is I have no way of making it a part of some greater good. I do what I can to give some good back to society to make up for what I have to do but it seems like all I manage to do things that make things seem more bleak. Add in the severe lack of hope I have for any lasting life changes here, the inability to actually have a future for myself or relationships, and living with the only person who could possibly make me feel worse, and I'm a bag of cheesy poofs away from living on the couch.

How does someone motivate him or herself here? How do I make up for doing something I know is terrible even if it's better than the alternative? How do I keep myself from becoming a monster who feeds on others and doesn't help anyone but myself when I don't have anything real to give in this world?

The one thing that made me "me," the one thing I was confident I could make a difference with isn't an option, so how do I define myself when I have no idea what makes me anything but disgusting?

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[ when will you hang out will me willingly liv. he opens his mouth - an "ah. i get it." ]

And wrapping your head around figuring this place out doesn't give you the same instant gratification? How long does it take you to solve your murder cases? Like three days? You could keep working on that cure. You've got your lab rats still, myself included in a hilarious twist of fate.

Edited 2016-04-22 14:31 (UTC)

[ Maybe when he stops blaming her for his murder spree or threatening the apocalypse if she doesn't make nice with him. Maybe. ]

There's no gratification in what I do here. Learning more about this place just makes it seem worse. You know, we show up physically as children and the Dream Docks are literally just memories being beamed into our heads like a lamer version of the Matrix. We may not even be who we think we are, which means not only did we end up a part of a weird science experiment, they may have intentionally given me a zombie virus to make me more realistic.

[ She looks at him. ] That happened was because I stole half of the cure for myself out of desperation for this to end and severe impulsiveness from a brain. It wasn't a twist of fate, it was this. [ Selfishness and desperation combined with a need to do the right thing and make up for all the wrong she does. It's always a part of her. Sometimes it's just worse than others. ]

[ incredulous laughter that gets followed by a slightly disturbed expression. he never has reason to doubt things that pour out of her mouth, unfortunately ]

Good grief, Liv. Talk about an identity crisis. [ he almost feels bad for her. almost. she gives herself a job to do here and discovers that she might not even be who she is (a concept already fucked to high-heavens with someone else's brain being shared on a weekly basis) and zombism was probably optional. she was already knee deep in the "does life half a meaning" debate. that's fucked up. ]

You ever think about taking a vacation?

[ No kidding. If anyone wonders why she has issues beyond just being a zombie, that's why. ]

I went to Disneyland the other week with some friends.

[ Sorry Blaine, she didn't invite you. ]

We have access to Disneyland here? [ ?????????? ] You have friends?

[ okay, the latter was a joke. sort of. it needs further clarification, which he graciously gives by giving her a bit of a skeptical expression ]

I mean, real friends here that haven't been your roommate or co-worker at some point? [ that's still insulting, isn't it? he's trying. kind of. he's not really trying. liv, he thinks you need more friends and really thought you didn't have any here until just this second. ]

Are you that friend they have to drag out places?

Edited 2016-04-28 00:19 (UTC)

[ This isn't getting less insulting here, Blaine. ]

Yes, I have plenty of friends both here and home, and going to Disneyland was my idea.

[ you know when people learn a weird bit of trivia and they go "HUH." in this light tone like they didn't quite believe it but it must be true? well- ] Huh.

[ liv moore's social life is a mystery. ]

You know. Usually. Having those means you don't have to stuff Cheetos into your face while debating the meaning of life? You could use people as a massive distraction.

You mean the kind of distraction where I'm kind of craving in the back of my head that I wouldn't mind a bite to eat?

[ Having human friends is good like most of the time but sometimes she just kinda thinks about what it'd be like to have their brain in linguini ok. Which she knows is very screwed up. ]

You eat before you hang out with your delicious pals, obviously.

[ liv stop ]

That's hard to do when I don't know their schedules and I'm against ever having stalker brains again.

[ She can't. Thanks for the zombieism, bro. ]

So don't eat the stalker brains.

[ as if that's the simplest solution ]

That was a joke about not knowing everyone's plans so I can't eat before I go hang out every time, genius.

You should keep some brain in your purse.

I try to when I think I might be going a while without them but it isn't like they store well outside of a fridge. I have my doubts you've had to eat rotten brains before, but they aren't pleasant.

09 BRAINS ; anonymous text

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