?

Log in

 
 
04 July 2010 @ 08:31 pm
Awake, Alive, and Possibly a Sell-  
Dear Journal:

I previously said I would update weekly.  This is the first update.  (Tune in every Sunday from now until... well, I'll get to that.)

I have come to the conclusion that, rather than abandon my blog, I must give it proper closure.  This, dear blog, is the beginning of the end.  The end does not yet have a set date, but I assume it will come naturally, like death at the end of a long bout of sickness.

I'm sure we're all curious (by "we" I mean "no one") as to what I've been up to.  As some may recall, I have previously mentioned my experiments with psitanium.  Specifically, low-dose injections.  My studies have been what I would professionally call "successful" and what I would personally call "THE BEST DAMN THING THAT'S EVER HAPPENED TO ME."

You see, exposure to low-dose psitanium increases psychic abilities.  And massive overdoses of psitanium, such as injections, inhibit abilities while driving the specimen mad.  I am pleased to report that I, Sasha Klaus Nein, have perfected a diluted, happy medium which inhibits all abilities WITHOUT ANY NEGATIVE SIDE EFFECTS.

Naturally, I tested this on myself initially.  Milla came home to find me tapping air bubbles out of a syringe, belt wrapped around my arm and my shirt sleeve rolled.  Her reaction then is actually not dissimilar to her reaction now.

"Sasha, how could you?" she demanded last week.

I was tapping another syringe.  The effects last for some time, but have to be carefully monitored.  The symptoms leak through very subtlety, until one finds himself overwhelmed with a deluge of information so intense he feels he must be going mad.

"How couldn't I?" I replied.

She threw down her book and stormed out, intent on letting me know that she was disgusted by my behavior.  But hasn't she herself seen the positive effects? 

Since I began injecting myself with psitanium, I have kept careful documentation of all my symptoms.  The first noticeable symptom was sleep.  I go to bed at ten, and rise at six.  There are no more bouts with insomnia.  The bruises ever present around my eyes faded and my cheekbones filled in, along with the rest of me; my body put on weight, becoming stronger and less tired every day.  I went from a spectre to a man.  The resemblance to my father has certainly made itself clear, and I see now that I was never unlike him.  It was my psychic abilities that rendered me so ill.  It was, in a way, an illness, and this the vaccine.

Of course, many disagree with me.  For example, last week, I happened across Gabe.  Gabe is a "newer" psychic, having found the agency right after it had dissolved and then come back together, as it is now.  A popular astral projectionist, I had always disliked him without knowing why.  There was something about his energy and mine that just didn't quite work.

I was pleasantly surprised to find him a charming, clever, and amiable person for the first time.  I could see why everyone else liked him, and when trying to think of why I had disliked him before, came up empty-handed.

Anyway, to continue my story, Gabe was with Razputin, a young man I previously mentored.  (Arguably I taught him virtually everything he needs to know.  Not that he seems grateful for it.  All he remembers are our unsuccessful swimming lessons.  Let this be a lesson to all of you: children are eternally ungrateful.  No matter how many times you throw them into a lake, even if it's in their best interest, they will resent you for it.  In fact, quite illogically, the more you try to help them by throwing them in a lake, the more and more resentful they'll get.  Strange.)

"Sasha!" he exclaimed, clapping my hand.  "I heard that you're cured!"  He winked at me.  I laugh.  Laughter comes easy to me now.

"Yes.  Yes, in a way, I am indeed cured."

"Well, you look fantastic.  I thought your skeleton was going to come out before."

"Mm," I agreed, smiling.

"Some would say you've SOLD OUT."

My smile dropped, and I looked down to find the voice belonging to one Lilli Zanotto.  Not to get too much into it, but Razputin and Lilly have some sort of childish romance going on, and I was always close with Lilly's father, who was the head of the organization before it dissolved.  Since it's rebirth, Truman has stepped down and seems much happier for it.

"I don't see how," I said, adjusting my cufflinks.  I had a vague notion that I was about to get involved in a fight with a child, but was unable to stop it.  It was a bit like having a dirt clod thrown at your head and knowing the impact is imminent.

"You spend your whole life teaching us how to be better psychics, telling us we weren't freaks, making us believe that we were special and were going to save the world.  And then the MOMENT you find an easy way out, you take it.  You're a hypocrite, Sasha."

I looked to Gabe for support.  He gave me a sheepish grin and shrugged, as if to say, "Kids!"

"You'll understand when you're old--" I began.

Lilly took the opportunity to direct a massive fireball at the ground and storm off.  Razputin watched her go, looked down at the scorch mark in the grass, and then looked up at me. 

"Sorry," he said.

"Oh, that's alright," I replied.  "I've heard it from others."

"Well... she's sort of right, Agent Nein.  You kind of sold out.  And, you know."  He shrugged, then loped after her, leaving Gabe and I alone.

"Youch."  Gabe threw an arm over my shoulder.  "Those are some tough kids, huh?  But look, Sasha, let me tell you, personally?  I respect what you're doing.  I mean, it's not just about you, it's a science thing, and I get that.  And it's a personal choice, you know?  If this makes you happy, go for it!  And you look like a million bucks.  Don't let the criticism get you down."

"No, of course not!" I agreed.  I was glad to have Gabe's approval, and also glad to see that he was on my side, particularly since I've treated him so coldly before.  Again, I can't remember what I didn't like about him.  I have a feeling like I didn't trust him, but it's not there now; he really is as friendly as everyone makes him out to be.

The conversation didn't bother me because, truthfully, I had heard similar complaints from other psychics, many of them friends, who felt that I was somehow betraying them by suppressing my powers.  And I wanted to shake each other and scream, "LOOK AT ME!  Don't you see?  Not only is this a major scientific advancement, but it's SAVING me.  I'm not having seizures or nosebleeds.  I'm not having panic attacks or bouts of depression.  I'm eating, sleeping, and communicating in a way I was never able to before.  Don't you see this is how I was meant to be?"

I have thought about it at length.  And, professionally, this does have practical implications.  Think about all the psychic criminals.  Think about all the children that kill themselves because they can't stand the voices.  Think of all the pyros who lose control and burn their houses down.  This offers an alternative to going to a psychic prison, forever institutionalized and eventually going crazy from massive psitanium overdoses.  This allows people to live normal, productive lives.  As normal people.  The way they were meant to be.  Being psychic is a horrible genetic defect.  But now it can be fixed.  Or at least, the symptoms of it can be covered.  You'd think these people would be thanking me on bended knee, but more than half seem to think this is somehow MORE dangerous than the ability to blow up buildings with my mind.  (Fools.)  I am confident that, with enough research, I will be able to change their minds (pun intended!) and have the injection approved and granted to any who want it.

It's like insulin for diabetics.  Diabetics who can EXPLODE PEOPLE'S HEADS.

Now, the conversation with Lilly didn't bother me.  But later, at home, I asked Milla her take on it.

"Milla?  Am I a hypocrite?"

Milla paused from her magazine.  "Yeah.  A little bit," she replied, turning back to it.

"...how?" I challenged her.

She sighed and put her reading over her knee.  "Sasha, baby, I don't want to have this conversation now."

"Just tell me how," I insisted.

"Oh... honey..."  She gestured in the air.  A small breeze pushed my hair out of my eyes, and I smiled.  "You've always been a hypocrite in a lot of little ways.  It's just that, lately... you know, babe, everyone always looked to you as this... well, champion for psychic rights.  And now, it's like you're denying you were ever psychic."

"But I'm happy.  Milla, look at me.  I'm so healthy this way.  Is that a bad thing?"

"I think God makes people the way they are for a reason."

We paused.  The clock on the wall ticked the seconds noisily.

"I like being normal more."

"I know."  She picked up her magazine.  "You know, without your abilities, there's no blocks.  We can all hear you, just like we can hear the thoughts of all the other non-psychics.  And they're not flattering, Sasha.  You really think we're diseased and need fixed.  You hate yourself.  For all the good things you do, you hate psychics."

"Look at what it did to me, Milla.  How couldn't I hate it?  Why wouldn't I want to change it?  I don't have to hear anymore.  I don't have to feel.  I'm in control."

"You worry too much about being in control."

"Maybe you don't worry enough.  Maybe I have a reason for worrying.  Maybe if I hadn't been so careless as a child, I never would have--" 

My voice caught in my throat then.  Milla's page flipped without her touching it, and I thought about all the useless little things I used my mental capabilities to do.

"I'm against it.  I love you and I want you to be happy, baby doll.  But I'm against it."

"You would rather I'm thin, sleep-deprived, and miserable?  That, someday, I won't be able to handle it, and I'll go out like Alden did?"

Milla sighed.  "I said I didn't want to talk about this.  I'm happy you're happy."

"But you're not!"

"How would you know, anyway?"

"You don't have to be psychic to read emotions."

"If you want to keep shoving a needle in your arm every two days so that you can pretend to be normal, be my guest."

The conversation ended there.  But I can't help but think Milla, even being a psychic, doesn't understand.  After all, she's a levitator.  Not a telepath.  How much worse it is for the telepaths.  She's one of the lucky types of psychics that isn't under a constant barrage of negative emotion.  How could she possibly understand?  And Lilly.  Spoiled little girl from a supportive psychic family. 

As I was just typing that, Milla said to me, "I DO understand, Sasha."  It took me a moment to realize that, as I was typing, she was reading my thoughts.  She's probably "listening" right now.  And she just pointed out to me that there are many like me, psychics born to non-psychic families, who still disagree with my research.  But should we stop researching something just because it's controversial?  As a scientist, I say no.  Besides, this isn't harmful to anyone.  And my main test subject is myself.  So why so defensive about it all?

And, as Milla just pointed out, she was, in fact, raised in a family of borderline psychics who couldn't use their powers and only had the vaguest hints of being psychic.  The Vodellos are a respected psychic family that's "dying out," which is why they adopted Milla.  (And never told her and then she found out and now I have to listen to constant rants about who her "real" mother is... ach, I'm getting a headache.  Milla is talking to me as I write, which is very distracting.  I believe I will have to write my next update far from her, or anyone else who can read my new, normal, and unprotected mind.)

~ Sasha
 
 
 
 
 
(Anonymous) on July 14th, 2010 04:20 pm (UTC)
can't remember my login atuff, but... (klausbridvell)
Sasha, you probably do not remember me, but my name is Drew; we have done a fair amount of chatting in the past. I spontaneously found the urge to revisit your blog after a somewhat extended period of not doing so. All I would like to say is... good lord, you're literally 3 hours from my house! at least at the time you made this post you were. Good to see you are still alive and kicking, friend. I support your research on psitanium injections, as well, regardless of what the psychics think of you. Best of luck!