Down Here, I Feel Grounded.

[Royce Raider]

It's good to be above the clouds, but somehow. . .

Down here I feel grounded.

The new worlds I have entered are unlike any other I had thought I'd ever see in my life. Though in my old life, there was not much that I had seen, or thought I would ever see. Everything here feels like an illusion. And I can't quite decide whether it is or not. But it is the most real feeling when I shift into the lovely animal that is now me, and I can fly free. Though I know that I am still locked up, I wouldn't mind staying here.

This Menagerie. . . It is peculiar. Though it may not look like it, it is organized beyond level. I think that some people here just need to relax a bit more. People here are so serious about everything. Why is that? It's only your lives, it's not to be taken that seriously. I mean, you'll have more than one. I know that I already have. My life that was before is now of no importance to me. But, it's not like it ever was.

Actually, I think the fact that I have no memories from my former life reflects how horribly boring it was. Nothing haunts me. That means nothing major ever went on. Obviously nothing worth remembering. Or else I would have remembered it, right? On the contrary, this new life of mine is interesting. Painful, at times, but nonetheless interesting.

Swirling around me,
Unbounded. . .
The walls revolving seeming sad as they were circling.
I am little in comparison
And never want the ones I know to see me small.
So on my own I try to win,
But soon wind down
And always end up
Back on the ground again.
Bad at the hand of circumstance,
What I had in mind exactly doesn't happen.
It's good to be above the clouds,
But somehow down here I feel grounded.
No inflated thoughts to break,
The drop has already landed.
Hoping to be happy right here
Might even get me laughing.

[Royce Raider]

Hello, Seattle. . .

I am an albatross.

Owls are peculiar animals. And I wonder why I can shift into one. An owl compared to any other animal? Why was it chosen for me? I, for one, see it quite fitting. All I've ever wanted was to fly away into the distance and escape from my so called home. I would sit in front of the square windows of my old house and stare out into the sunny skies littered with white, fluffy clouds. I would watch that amazing sensation of the breeze floating through the lush trees and caressing the soft grass. I would see the birds fly free, soaring over the breezes that whipped through the sun-warmed air. And I remember how I would have given anything to be one of them.

There is nothing I have ever felt that compares to the feeling that I get when my body shifts energies to my now other half, and I flap my beautiful, feathered wings. Flying above the clouds and entire civilization of the Menagerie is an experience that few people in the entire world even get the chance to do. I feel very priveliged, although I know others here feel differently. For others, being in the Menagerie is a curse. But it is not that way for me. At least not yet. I figure that it probably will be, but as of now, I consider it a blessing to have seen and felt all of the things that I have.

But then, I start to think of the experiments that have had to have been done on me to get me this way. The images that invade my head when I think of this make me shudder. And then I think, Am I even me? Are these even my beautiful wings that I control? Are these my soft feathers in the purest whites, reddish browns, and ashen greys? Are these my sharp, white talons that can grip onto anything? Do I even have the right to fly above the clouds? Do I have the right to feel free? When really, the beautiful animal that I think is me might really just be trapped inside of me. When I think of this, I become disgusted with myself.

Hello, Seattle
I am the crescent moon
Shining down on your face
I will disguise myself as a sleeping pill
And descend inside of you
Hello, Seattle
I am an albatross
On the docks and your boats
I sail above your inlets and interstates
Through the rain
And open wind
Take me above your light
Carry me through the night
Hold me secure in flight
Sing me to sleep tonight

[Royce Raider]

I regarded the world as such a sad sight. . .

Sometimes I wonder: If I hated my parents for locking me away, why don't I hate the Keepers? Most people here in the Menagerie do. Why can't I convince myself to? I mean, they've locked me up in this place, and I'll probably spend the remainder of my life here. Most people here, they have such malice. It seems like they are only here to fight and kill. Is that why we -the shifters- are here? Do we exist to kill? When I ask myself this question, I feel trapped.

If the others' minds are trained to kill, will I have to kill also? Will I have to kill someone who's mind has been set to that if they attack me? If so, after time, will my mind be crazed also? It is a vicious circle. I do not want to become a killing machine, attacking people without reason. I want to be a revered fighter, with justice and honor. Not a bloody slaughterer. Though I know that that dream will never happen. I think, to survive and thrive here in the Menagerie, a killing machine is exactly what one has to be.

I regarded the world as such a sad sight
Until I viewed it in black and white
Then I reviewed every frame and basic shape
And sealed the exits with caution tape
Don't refocus your eyes in the darkness
And don't remember this place unless
I describe all the things that you cannot see
And we'll unravel the mystery
Farewell,
All my friends,
In text books
I'm going home.
'Cause my blood cells
Cannot depend
On the weather
In photographs.
There's a light show
Out my window
Somewhere
Way up there.

[Royce Raider]

Below the Northern Lights. . .

War has broken out between the Rings. Here comes hell. The Carna was outraged at our -the Fulsi- turn against them. I had no idea things were going to play out like this. I was completely oblivious! Though, that's not terribly uncommon. I do live in my own world of daydreams and sleeplessness. Hallucinations are my only escape. The illusion that my mind sometimes portrays is the only thing I can be submerged in. It drowns out the reality of the Menagerie. It floods my eyes with beautiful images of fluffy clouds, or large and colorful ferris wheels on a moonlit shore amusement park. I sit awake at night, thinking of things I'll never get to see, and places I'll never get to go. Daydreams are all I have.

Now, I didn't want to become a killing machine like the rest of the animals in this Menagerie, but I suppose that these times call for it. I've already enlisted in the armies of monsters fighting in this war. Hopefully, I will be of good use. But then again, I might just be the next body laying out on the street that no one ever wonders about, that no one ever cares about. Like the kind you see in the movies. There are always a bunch of dead people laying out everywhere, but no one seems to care about those people. They seem to be just fillers. Empty souls lost in the hype of whatever happens, long forgotten by the survivors. Someone help me. I don't want to be a filler.

I spend my coldest nights.

Breathe, and I'll carry you away
Into the velvet sky
And we'll stir the stars around
And watch them fall away
Into the Hudson Bay
And plumet out of sight and sound
The open summer breeze
Will sweep you through the hills
Where I live in the Alpine Hights
Below the Northern Lights
I spend my coldest nights
Alone, awake and thinking

[Royce Raider]

I'll blend up that rainbow above you,

And shoot it through your veins.

The war, it is inevitable. It always has been, I suppose. Although my time here hasn't been long, the roots of the Rings' malice towards one another are as shallow as puddles after a summer shower. I can see right through these people here, all of them. Why are they so down-to-earth? When I observe people from high in the sky, all I see are chains that bound them to the ground which they stand on. While I am above the clouds, in a different world, they are below me, grounded. They are all in the same world, while I am not. It is like I am sitting on the windowsill, looking into both the Rational and Irrational worlds. Rational is how the world really is. And Irrational is how I see it. The illusion that I put off.

If only people took the time to talk to me. To see me eye-to-eye. I could show them just how wonderful this Irrational world is. I live in a world of dreams, and fluffy clouds. Flying above the Rational world, in a world of my bidding. This world of mine, you go to it through daydreams. You can go to it in a state of contentment, or in a state of needing an escape. All of these people that are so chained up, all they have to do is escape with me. It's not hard. But my world has its dangers, too. The most dangerous thing is that you might fall in love with the world. I know I have.

I've fallen in love with the feeling of escape. I've fallen in love with the sights I see and the freedom I feel. That is why I am forever bound to my Irrational world, forever living in it. I cannot see the Rational world the way others see it, for in my crazed mind, the Irrational world is all I think about. If people saw, they would know. If they only knew what I am. If they only knew what I see. If they only took the chance to escape with me.

High rise, veins of the avenue
Bright eyes and subtle variations of blue
Everywhere
Is balanced there
Like a rainbow above you
Street lights glisten on the bul
And cold nights make staying alert
So hard
For heaven's sake
Keep me awake
So I won't be caught off guard
Clearly I am the passerby
But I'll find a place to stay
Dear Pacific day,
Won't you take me away?
Cheer up and dry your damp eyes
And tell me when it rains
I'll blend up that rainbow above you
And shoot it through your veins
'Cause your heart has a lack of color
And we should have known
That we'd grow up sooner or later
Because we wasted all our free time alone