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Alexis, ExplainedCategory: Stories
Tuesday, 4 November 2014
10:20:45 PM (GMT)
[Please note: This is an allegory. It is highly personal and is an accurate
representation of the chaos that takes place in my mind. If you are here to be a
dick, just leave. Otherwise I am not responsible for what happens to you.]

Alexis, Explained

       Logic went by many names. Sanity, for instance. Coherence. Sensibility. At
times, she even thought of herself as Wisdom. But Logic was the name she chose to
call herself on most occasions, for it suggested authority. “Listen to Logic,”
they’d say. 
	Saying was one thing. Actually listening, well… That was quite another. 
	Love lie whimpering on the floor. “Remember when Benji loved us? Remember how
sweet he was?” she reiterated. Self Pity looked down at her and frowned, then threw
a blanket over her, in case she was cold.
	Sexuality stared at the pathetic, shivering little form that was Love, and bit her
lip. Confused as ever, she blurted out another horrible idea. “Hey guys, maybe we
need to be sexual with Phillip.” 
	Fear was there immediately to slap her across the face, but when that only made her
blush and look more clueless than ever, Fear pushed her down the stairs with brutal
severity. Self Pity went down after her, to see if she was alright. 
	Loneliness paced frantically. “What if we try that Craigslist thing again? Find
someone to cuddle with.”
	Fear tackled her, pinned her down, then rose and kicked her in the ribs. “You
fucking idiot. That’s how people get raped. Apologize.” But Loneliness only
smiled and enjoyed the attention.
	Just about then, a black cloud of Depression rolled in, so everyone grabbed an
umbrella to avoid being spattered with black slime.
	Except for Love, who just lie there, and Self Pity, who scooped up the sludge in
handfuls and ate it, greedily, messily.
	Sexuality, now bruised and frightened, found her way up the stairs again, and sidled
shyly up to her best friend, Loneliness. The two held hands and stared bleakly at the
dark clouds of Depression gathering above them.
	Fear kept glancing deliriously at Love, until finally she yelled, “This is fucking
hopeless! Let’s kill ourselves! Let’s bleed! Fuck this shit!” 
	Logic jumped in, seeing that she was desperately needed. She gripped Fear roughly by
the shoulders and gave her a little shake. “Calm down. All of you, calm down. No
one’s killing anyone. And we don’t need to bleed…” 
	“I disagree,” whispered Guilt, who although was merely a tiny shadow clinging to
Fear’s back, commanded a great deal of persuasion in debates.
	“Just shut up for a minute,” Logic growled, shaking her umbrella, which was
becoming heavy with the sticky black Depression. “Why don’t we just listen to
some music? That usually makes us feel better, doesn’t it?” 
	Everyone nodded, reluctantly, without enthusiasm. 
	At Logic’s command, a song filled the space, and she cranked the volume until the
walls were vibrating. It was one of the cheerfully morbid gothic rock songs everyone
was fond of. “You see!?” she yelled to be heard above the noise. “The music is
too loud for us to be sad!”
	Indeed, the clouds slowly cleared, and the puddles of the filthy Depression slowly
evaporated. Self Pity quickly saved a few jars full when no one was looking, then sat
licking her fingers and looking disappointed.
	Love, wearing the blanket Self Pity had given her like a cape, crawled tentatively
towards Sexuality and Loneliness. "Hold me," she cried.
But Sexuality kicked her away, and Loneliness spat at her. “Go away, you’re just
going to complicate things.” 
	“We don’t need you,” Sexuality said nervously. “Just leave us alone.”
	Love wailed, screamed and hit her head against the floor. A white haze of Anxiety
formed around her. She began to hyperventilate.
	“Shit! Shit! We’re going down!” Logic screamed as the world rocked and the
lights flickered wildly. Everyone panicked. Soon the Anxiety had filled the space so
fully that no one could see who was who through the fog. Pandemonium ensued.
	Logic froze, knowing that she had failed miserably. She always failed. Hot sparks of
Despair rained down, burning everyone, making each archetype cry out. A few seized
their umbrellas and held them up like shields, but the Despair shot through the thin
material with unstoppable molten heat. They would all be scarred again, and Logic
knew it was all her fault. She couldn’t see through the fog, but she thought she
felt Guilt’s thorny little claws sinking slowly into her back. 

	Blinding light shredded the atmosphere. 

The fog did not exist. Anxiety, Depression, Despair; all were nullified. Everyone saw
clearly. No one dared speak. Words did not exist. There was only silence. There were
only held breaths and pounding hearts.
	A slow, factual red blush bled from each wall, covered the floor, covered
	Everyone fell to the floor, pressed their foreheads against the wet surface. 
	They no longer had names.
	They no longer had purpose.
	All was blood. The blood was darkness. The darkness was all.
	Tongues lapped life liquid, lips moved in a silent chant as the bitter fluid dripped
down their throats. 
	It was red and it was black.
	The door opened.
	Mutilation entered. She wore a regal gown constructed of pure shadow. The sea of
blood parted where she stepped.
	“You’re all fucking welcome,” she announced. She looked out at each bowed
head, every trembling hand. 
	“If I have to save you miserable fools one more time, I might just turn the lights
off. Permanently.” 
	What is my name? the archetype wondered frantically. She had had so many names
	Mutilation slid a razor blade into her mouth and moved it around with her tongue.
The minuscule lacerations sent more blood flowing into the room.
	“This is all there is for us,” Mutilation crooned. “Blood is safety. Pain is
clarity. Remember that,” she purred.
	Sanity! Yes! That was her name, once upon a time, was it not?!
	Logic rose to her feet. She inhaled slowly, evenly. Mutilation watched her and
realized she was about to be banished back to the dark places again, but she didn’t
care. She had done her job.
	“Sanity. Logic. That’s who I am. That’s what I provide. We’ve all had
enough. Leave us.”
	Mutilation spit the razor blade into her palm. It was slick with saliva and blood.
She slid it along her ribs, and bright beads of red blossomed in a thin red line.
“You’re all ungrateful.” 
	She turned on her heel and left, slamming the door behind her.
	Everyone stared at her as she left. Not with resentment; but with something not
unlike love.
	Except, of course, for Logic. She had no admiration or compassion for Mutilation.
She had to believe in an existence without this constant chaos. Fear had long ago
shackled and imprisoned Hope and Trust somewhere far away, and she couldn’t argue
with the necessity and practicality of the harsh decision, but maybe some day, there
would be room for them, too.
	For now, however, it was time to shut down this trainwreck of a mind.
	“Sleep, everyone,” Logic instructed, lying down. “Let’s all just go to
	Self Pity crept over to Sexuality and whispered in her ear.
	“Good idea,” Sexuality murmured in agreement with the suggestion. “Let’s
touch ourselves. Just a little. Before we sleep.”
	“No,” Logic interrupted, vetoing the idea. 
	The lights dimmed, fleeting thoughts and images flickered across the sky. Then sleep
spread over everyone, and all was peaceful. 

… For a few hours or so.

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