On our way

"That is a giant book."

"Aye, sir," Sulu replied. 

"Sensor readings?" 

"It appears to be a ship, Captain. I believe you can. . .fit inside it, if you choose to. Standard atmospheric conditions inside." Kirk nodded, abrupt and decisive again. 

"Spock, Bones, join me in the transporter room. We're beaming over." She rose and headed for the door. "Mr. Sulu, you have the conn."

"C--captain?" Spock stuttered.

"Janelle? Are you sure about this?" Bones followed Kirk up to the lift.

"Nope. But it's a giant book; doesn't that sound like fun?" she grinned.

"Loads. Can we at least take phasers?" asked Spock, joining them in the small space.

"Yes," Kirk pronounced. "Set them to stun." 

"Phasers to stun. Heh." Spock snickered. Bones gave her a curious look.

". . . What was that?" 

Spock shook herself, shrugging. "Just always hoped to find a contextually relevant way to say that."

"Oh, it's relevant, all right. We are on a starship. In space. I can't think of any place that phrase would be more relevant." 

"Pretty much." The lift was quiet for a moment. "Hey, guys."

Bones gave Spock another look. Kirk glanced over from her reverie. "What?"

"We're on a star ship. Going on an away mission."

"Yeah? So?"
"Just wanted to point that out. Makes me happy, is all."

Bones shook her head, wrinkling her nose. "Okay, then." Kirk gave a brief smile, then surveyed the lift. 

"Hey . . . are we even moving?"

". . .I don't think so."

"Deck five."

The lift sped down the shaft.

Taking care of business

"Captain, sensors picked up an unmarked vessel. Refuses to identify." Sulu reported to Kirk, who reluctantly took her chair. Spock stood to her right, Bones on the left.
"Um. . .can we see it?" Kirk asked. Sulu and Chekov looked at each other, then back at Kirk. Spock sighed.
"On screen, Mr. Chekov."
"Aye, sir." As he made a few adjustments to his controls, a small brown dot appeared in the center of the view screen.
"Bigger!" said Kirk.
"Magnify," said Spock.
"Aye, commander." The dot expanded to fill the screen, resolving into an unexpected shape.
"What."
"Indeed, doctor. What even." The trio had frozen momentarily, but Bones's flat exclamation removed their paralysis. Kirk put forth an uncertain inquiry.
"Ummmm. . .you guys? Is that. . ."
"I believe it is, Captain."
Spock glanced at her two companions. Bones was doing the same, and they noticed Kirk's face at the same moment. They shared a long-suffering look, and waited for it.
"Can we. . .fit inside that?"

Diamond edge

I just don't, anymore.  I used to, with everything in me, all my "heart" as they say. Didn't worry, but things were oh so worrisome and I should have, it should be, should have been, but I used to.

Trust, I mean. I just don't, anymore.

No, you didn't hurt me. I may have thought you were a pillar and maybe you were holding up that fragile thing that I lost somewhere, lost it for good this time I think, but you didn't hurt me. Didn't need the breakable bits anyhow.

The end of the world, we all thought, and we all said no to that. More of us then. Solid to prop up each other, stand firm together and none of our brittleness will be vulnerable. I used to, didn't worry, and I should have, but I used to.

Collapsed, every single one.

Except me.

So I don't, anymore. Trust, I mean. I just don't.

Until it hurts

It was like

   yanking on a pulley rope
   pulling a threaded seam
   drawing back a bow

trembling
taut
uncertain

he drew up the corners of his mouth to try a smile.

and again.
Hold fast, damn you.

so afraid that

   the rope would slip
   the thread would break
   the arrow would fly

his image would rip.

Nothing underneath but

damage
destruction
death

Dean.

Return to interwebs

I'm so full up with phrases and feelings and more things beginning with the phonetic sound made by "f".

Fear.

Flippan..cy. That's a word, yes?

Fatigue.

Food? No, I'm hungry.

Okay, so the letter thing is less workable than I had hoped. What I mean is I am about to burst with all the pointless things I've wanted to say to the internet for about a month and half. Now that I have returned, I begin with a pointless bit of alliteration. Huzzah.

Anywho, hello again, internet. I've saved up a lot of verbal clutter. Be prepared.

No other choice at this point

I think I may fail
but I guess that's alright.

I sat about for hours.
I ignored days.
I drifted through the weeks.
I wasted months.

Forgot anything worth knowing
Learned all kinds of useless stuff

I think I may fail
and it's my own fault
but I guess it'll have to be alright.

Sometimes I scare myself

It's a little bit of nothing wrapped up in a whole knotted mess of rage, and it's not worth any of all that nonsense, but it sits there and it singes my composure from the inside out.

I slipped a little bit today. I got angry. I was, in fact, furious. The whole "roaring in the ears" metaphor that everyone talks about isn't a metaphor. And I slipped a little bit today. I didn't laugh it off and say, "never mind. I wasn't busy anyway," or, "it's okay, don't worry about it." I let a sentence or two get away from me about how, "no, I didn't walk all the way here. I was driven here from several miles away and I left all my studying materials at home," and, "you should have told me before I got all the way here." I was trying to induce guilt, and it worked, and when I was offered what had been denied me, I very vindictively said, "it's FINE," and I stormed off. I slipped. I said some of what I was actually thinking, and I never say what I'm actually thinking about how I'm actually feeling, especially not when I'm angry.

Fear me. I will break you down to your elements and show you just how small you are, how insignificant I can make you feel, how everything you thought you were is nothing at all.

Get out of my sight, I spit in my head. Myself in my mind is reduced to a snarl, bared teeth and a roar of rage.

and a deep breath.

and a lowered head.

spent.