ataraxion | ғɪʀsᴛ - ᴛᴇxᴛ - ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀ

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ғɪʀsᴛ - ᴛᴇxᴛ - ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀ

So I'm actually going to do this. I don't know why, it's stupid, except I had this ex-boyfriend who used to talk about the things his psychologist spouted, like 'conscious dreaming' or something equally bollocky. How he had to learn to 'control his nightmares'. There's some bullshit about lightswitches that I wasn't really paying that much attention to, I can't stand those people. So I am consciously engaging with this obvious delusional break, which is the grandest idea I've ever had, I'm certain. I just keep thinking, what would he make of this? The psychologist. Here I am. I've sent myself to space. In space I have provided myself with a cigarette, but not a fucking lighter, so what does that mean? What does it mean that I'm asking this question to, I don't know, my subconscious as represented by the internet, which is just spectacular. I've gone down the rabbit hole through my own navel. This is sad and pathetic and why didn't my subconscious just give me a bottle of vodka, I ask you. Me. You don't need a lighter with vodka unless you've got a very particular sort of party in mind. I suppose I'm still asking me, because there isn't any you, that would be absurd.

( Ilde pulls the trigger on this post just to prove to herself that this isn't real (she is so nakedly, painfully afraid), because if this was real (is it worse if this is real, or if she really is completely mad?), she would never-- )

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Not unless we're talking about the ability to watch Jeremy Kyle without losing all faith in humanity.

( for the record, she's wrong. )

[Oh man. Who, now.]

...I assume you're being facetious?

Daytime television at its lowest. "Has My Mother Had A Baby With My Husband" and "I'm A Binge Drinker And A Drug Dealer, But I'll Be A Great Dad!" were two of the ones I saw when I was home ill, once.

[Oh. Daytime TV. Can you hear the frown in his next text?]

No one should have to suffer through such programming when already feeling ill.

My uncle's housekeeper changed the channel to Countdown, eventually. (That one gives teams math and word puzzles and thirty seconds to do their best.)

That is infinitely preferable.

May I ask what it is you did before you arrived here?

It makes me feel a bit of a nana, but I like it. I was studying the cello at Guildhall-- my uncle (well, godfather) lives in Chelsea, so I've been staying with him.

A musician, then. [He can appreciate that.]

I've always thought the cello had a sad sound to it; a beautiful one regardless.

I first started on piano and violin, and Daddy bought me a concert harp for my sixteenth birthday, but they like you to have more of a focus than 'stringed instruments'. I wanted to do a joint principal with singing, but it didn't pan out with my course-load. I actually have mine here. I think it's of an age with the estate, it's the most beautiful thing you've ever touched.

[Oh. That's impressive.]

The best I can manage is a few chords on the piano. You must be very talented, and very fortunate to have an instrument from home to keep you company. I was given nothing so extravagant, only my suit.

If it makes you feel better, I got summer pajamas and my father's cardigan, so I'm accomplished but not terribly dignified. Daddy's a composer as well as a soloist, so-- well, he started teaching me before I was allowed to go to the bathroom by myself. He prefers the piano over most things, violin second. There's nothing in the world like seeing him perform live, I think. When I was still dating my last ex, he really wanted to use him in a video but Daddy's a bit too traditional to be that interested in something that might get pop cultural.

One does not appreciate the value of pajamas until they are without them. A suit may be dignified, but I feel as if court is perpetually in session.

Do you compose as well as perform?

Try taking your jacket off and rolling your shirtsleeves to the elbow. (You also need to lose the tie and the top button for that one to work.) There; now you look like you care about your appearance, but not as if you've got something lodged somewhere uncomfortable. Not really. I write, but not music; I mostly play his compositions. He wrote a few things with me in mind that I like, he has this...it's like he captures people, musically, like a portrait.

[But... Yuri always looks like that...]

I may have little choice in the matter, since the other option is wearing the jumpsuit found in my locker when I initially arrived. I'd... rather not. [IT'S SO UGLY....]

If you ever become comfortable enough on this ship to perform for others, I would like to hear you play. If that's not too forward of me to ask.

[The quiet, sterile hum of being on a spaceship bothers him, though he wouldn't readily admit it. He's too used to the thrum of an active, bustling city. The contrast is hard to get used to, and music would be a nice distraction.]

( she can't work miracles man )

I'd rather not, either. ( you princesses. )

I'd like that, I think. I always feel a bit odd about having an audience, but one or two people isn't bothersome. It's just the idea of crowds I don't really like.

( a grave disappointment to her attention-seeking pater. )

Performance anxiety is common amongst many; it's both understandable and nothing to be ashamed of. Besides, there's something quaint about smaller musical performances.

I just never really liked to be looked at-- it's very truthful, music.

( it means having less control over how she's seen, and Ilde...likes to be in control of that. )

But I sometimes accompany my father, for private performances if they aren't being recorded.

It isn't art if it isn't truthful.

[But he can also relate to feeling in control; everything about his demeanor exudes it, so if this were video his words would be a strange contrast to his actual appearance.]

You must be very close with your family.

I was raised by a village of charming eccentrics, since Daddy had sole custody and a lot of interesting friends. I haven't really been apart from them properly, before now, although I was thinking I'd buy a house after I finish at Guildhall. Maybe in San Marino.

[There's a pang of jealousy that he smothers almost immediately, and he does not comment on it.]

Were you nearly done with your studies? A shame they had to be put on hold for the sake of the Tranquility.

( it wasn't quite as nice as it sounds, but-- that's not something she's any keener to share than he is. )

I was pretty close. It was always sort of -- I don't know, putting off real life. I did publish, though, just last year, I was thinking maybe I would try to focus on that a bit more.

If you wish for words of encouragement, you may think of this as more time for practice.

[Ever the sensible one. (Sometimes.)]

Fewer distractions? Maybe just different ones. But you can write anywhere, I think, so there's that.

The most distracting part of being on this ship is the eerie atmosphere. Perhaps that is merely due to being new. Either way it is more material for you to work with.

I know what you mean, though. I don't really want to go anywhere, but it's so quiet. I've always lived in or near cities, or just- not really been left on my own very long. Someone coming to see what I'm doing, music playing, things happening. It's odd. And cold, too, in here. I don't usually feel it so much. I should probably branch out. I wouldn't want to be a literary one trick pony.

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