The Walls Have Eyes (Diary)

This is a very, very bad idea


1. May 5th, 2015

I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this. I feel like I've entered a room - bereft of anything good and holy - with all your eyes covering the walls, the floors, the ceiling.
Which is not at all the comfort of a diary, by the way.

Paranoid, that's the word.

First thing's first, my real name is Fathéha Rahman (yes, all those of you who have my email address have got my name spelt wrong... I don't have a real excuse for that. Call it a typo that will leer at me for the rest of my living days). And I know the competition says that I shouldn't say my real name - but I'm 20 years old and, pffft, a hard-core rebel since the beginning of my membership here. But, no worries, all other names and places will be artfully disguised.
But all that aside: most of you don't know me very well.
Here, I put on a persona. I bluff my way around, pretending to be someone I really am not. Why? Because it's like playing poker and winning all the time (and that, kids, is why this is rated Y). That said: Am I about to give you an insight into my life? Only very few of you will be completely certain of that. To the rest of you, you'll have to decide for yourselves.

My life... is really complicated right now.

Additionally, if you happen to comment or give me advice or share your sympathies - I'm not going respond. And not because I don't appreciate it, but because I don't want to lose sight of what I've already planned in terms of my life and, secondly, I don't want to start writing this for all the wrong reasons. Believe me, there's going to be mass-bluffing if that happens. So... I don't know, I wish I could switch off the comments, but I can't, so I'm deliberately going to ignore them. Mostly. Please don't get offended by it. It's just something of a preference. If there is a question that I feel needs answering or if any of you want life-advice from me, then I'll answer it in the diary and not in the comment section. But, be warned, positivity is not my strong suit.

Also, expect a lot of cursing... I don't know if I should censor that in Y-rated material. And I don't want to rub anyone in the wrong way, so everything I put down to paper is just my opinion and, by no means, is it fact or something you should believe and follow (especially the stuff I put down when I'm frustrated. I never mean that sh*t). Expect ideologically sensitive material and possibly some religious-cultural, um... conflict? Expect very violent imagery, disturbing thoughts, mentions of mental conditions (honestly would not blame you if you just walked away from your computer screen right now). And also, on a lighter note, quotations from Linkin Park (probably) and others.

Also, I don't know if I'm meant to update this daily or like write everyday, but I probably won't. Uploads will come weekly, most likely, depending on my circumstances.

So, dear Movellians, welcome to the room of eyes - bereft of anything good and holy.

Welcome, to my life.

I'm sick of hiding.
Hiding from myself, hiding from my family, hiding from the world.
I'm not hiding anything any more.
There isn't a point.

Mary Clarence and Abraham Cecil probably think this is a ludicrous idea, and frankly my mum would probably agree. She believed in hiding and enduring if it spared your family's reputation. Because reputation is everything apparently.
Be all the bullsh*t that people want you to be and never tell anyone anything that goes wrong in your life.
Deal with it, push it down, it will eventually go away.
I've done it for years, twenty to be exact, and my face, my reactions have become suited to bluffing. I didn't mean to deceive you, I don't put on a persona on purpose, it's just how I've led my life. Now, I'm not a compulsive liar when it comes to life in general, current affairs, my opinions on anything - but when it comes to my family or how I feel about them or how my day's been... I probably will say everything's great. I've never had a problem admitting that I'm wrong when I'm wrong (...even if that is a rare treat and I think we can all agree on it), but admitting that the biggest villain in the story of my life is--

I can't. I can't.
I can't.
No, I won't.
That's my problem. It breaks my heart just thinking about it. And you're strangers, most of you probably couldn't give two sh*ts, then why am I afraid of telling you? You can't slay or save me. I don't even know if you understand, the million pairs of eyes that you are...

Maybe, I should spare it for other time. I'm not prepared to accept it. I'm not prepared to say it. I don't want to taste bitterness of the words.
Not yet. Not now.


Maybe I should go back to working on my FarCry project. Yeah, that'll make me feel better. And I have chores. And I think Pipsqueak is murdering insects in the garden. That boy has become such a nuisance. But I guess it's hard not to be when you're a bored three-year-old.

I'm finding it very hard not to be pretentious here...

I think it would be easier for me to start off with something that doesn't include splitting open my stomach and spilling my guts all over your eyes (I imagine that would sting).
Good news: I finished a whole chapter of my FarCry project (that's something for... two people to look forward to).
Bad news: I feel bad, like I'm not doing the characters justice - but it's more than that.

I'm strange.

And not like normal, everyday strange either. I do this thing were I can talk to a fictional character for ages and ages, in my head or out-loud. And the character of focus in FarCry3: Loved Ones is Vaas Montenegro. And (I told Abraham Cecil this) it's terrifying how well I'm able to connect with a lunatical psychopath who's entire character is basically a big bluff. I've spent way too much time thinking about it: Vaas has no actual personality. Now, I'm beginning to wonder - does “it take one to know one”? Has bluffing become characteristic of my personality as well? Is that why I can pick it out?


I'm talking and gesturing as I'm... writing this! (God knows, I'm probably creeping myself out more than I am you guys...).

I've been in the habit of pretending throughout my life. It's not something I'm proud of, but I'm a very convincing liar (...still wouldn't blame you if you took that as an invitation to walk away). And, in a sense, I have to keep pretending: I have to wear a false smile and wear liner to mask puffed eyes. I raise kids - they can't know. They don't need to. I have to hold an image - in a similar way that Vaas does (except he uses intimidation, fear and torture to hold his image... not to mention, he's just way cooler in every way imaginable... DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT, okay?).
And... when you stick to a characteristic for so long, it becomes a habit. Then that habit becomes an addiction. Then, eventually, that addiction becomes part of your personality.
Anyone who knows me can tell you - I am a d*ck.
In and out, through and through.
I'm much nicer online than I am in life - and maybe it's because I like the people better here, or I want to be liked here, or maybe a bit of both - but my point stands.

Midnight Rogue is just a persona for an actually much more irritated Fathéha Rahman.

Midnight Rogue is practically a character I've invented and you've all bought into. We're nothing alike.
Midnight Rogue fought for many things through the few years she's been here, opposed everything she thought needed opposing and enforced everything she thought needed enforcing - even though she has no actual authority here.
Fathéha Rahman is a blatant, pretentious coward - that can't go without four cups of tea in a row to help dampen an old, evil craving - and can't open her mouth against anything ever. Oh, and she's been an outcast in whichever circle she's been in.
At least Midnight Rogue is accepted in some.

But it's not just personality, either - Vaas speaks... and I understand him. I get it. What he says makes sense to me.
“You see, the thing about our loved ones, right? Our f*cking loved ones! They come and they blind-side you every f*cking time!” - story of my life right there.
“Insanity is doing the exact same f*cking thing over and over again, expecting sh*t to change” - and it's true. How many of us have it in our heads that if we keep running in the same circles in life, something might give? Eh?
I've been doing the exact same f*cking thing over and over again, for two years on a constant, and sh*t's not exactly getting better. If anything it's getting worse and worse, and I'm making sacrifice after sacrifice...
And Vaas isn't the first to express this sentiment.
Quotation from Lés Miserables: “Round and round the roundabout and back where you began.”
Linkin Park, a song called 'Carousel': “She can only fool herself for so long.”

What do I learn from this though? That I have to break the cycle? And, what, be brave and venture out into the unknown?
I'm... not that person.
But at the same time: who the hell am I? I've completely lost sight of who I am. I'm certainly not the same person as I was two years ago. Maybe it's time to build a new person?
I don't know.
Abraham Cecil keeps telling me that there's a light at the end of this dreaded tunnel (he also issued me a list of psychiatrists. Not that I'm ungrateful - I need help and I accept that - but I thought I'd just put that there). And he's probably right.

But I'll never find it if I don't move.

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