the time of your life (you just can't tell)

[Laruku Tears]

[html]

Depression was a funny word in that it didn't really apply after a while. If it was defined as a lower than average point, and the average had become low enough, then it wasn't really depression anymore, right? Laruku did not consider himself depressed or really sad even, for a change of adjectives. He did not feel particularly upset, only empty. To believe in nothing was to be nothing, and the longer he lived, the more he gravitated towards that mindset. To believe in the idea that there was nothing to believe in was a paradox, equally empty, equally meaningless. The hybrid didn't really think he had anything to be upset about anyway, just like he had nothing to be happy about. Things happened. He lived through them. Life went on. It was a rhythm he couldn't seem to break, so he didn't try anymore.



An oversized and tattered ear flicked backwards at the sudden sound, having been completely oblivious before. The voice of a stranger. Like many others, the very scarred man thought for a second that the other sounded familiar, but as soon as he thought that, the feeling was gone, and he was half-sure that it had only been his imagination. (Everything is your imagination, remember? Even yourself.) Laruku turned to glance behind him -- it was a habitual thing; as soon as he did it, he realized that it didn't whether or not he turned his head because he couldn't see -- and shrugged. Do I look so depressed? he wondered. His voice was even and bland, like an old recording, without feeling. I wasn't aware.

[/html]