Insanity, For Beginners

[Herrith Hendarsin]

"Not a lot of people understand why I do what I do. Being a smuggler, sure, that's a broad outer category of what I am. And us sentients tend to categorize things quite thoroughly. But it's difficult to know what I am when I never really say. If you go deeper, I'm not just a smuggler. I'm a burglar, an accomplished hand to hand combatant, a skilled bodyguard, and here and there with a multitude of other random abilities that nobody ever sees. But I'm not writing this as a job resume. I'm here today to answer the deeper question of what I, internally, am. A broken person, first and foremost. Shattered. My home abandoned me, my family, and left me to the dogs. I went through what could only be described as an attempt at chaining me down and making me pledge my obedience for the remainder of my life to a dancer's uniform and the occasional zap from a stun prod. Everyone that was in the same batch of slaves as me broke, sooner or later. Even the ones that I tried to wake up. I was too much trouble, my will to be me, be free and unguided by a singular and unequal slug, utter slime, was enough to warrant fears and dismay. If there's one thing I know now, it's that when I woke up in a moldy bed with a freshly stitched hole in my head, I wasn't what I was only a few years before. And I'm still not. Somewhere down the line, something clicked. All the stuff that happened to me didn't break me. It was the realization that I finally had no boundaries, that final push, that popped into my brain. I went insane. I am insane. I see people, I hear voices. I run from them. Both the living and dead. Me, of all people. I'm the one who's seen both sides and made it out alive. But mentally, I'm still in that dress, I'm still drowning in a frozen lake, I'm still burning alive in an airspeeder. Over and over again. The voices that nobody else hears tell me stories of the better life. My mental state is like many people, all with different ideas and all clashing to take the controls. Nobody knows what it's like to be insane. Not two insane people, even. Everyone is affected in their own way. Insanity burrows deep and modifies your head like a disease. Just like genetics. Not everyone is the same. Which is why I couldn't begin to explain what happens in my head in any language, because every one is basic and undetailed. Too little to conjugate what I feel. So I ride this mount alone. Just like so many others. End log."

 

[Herrith Hendarsin]

"I saw more ghosts today. I haven't seen them like this since...well, for a very long time, not since Tatooine. Or, more specifically, after my head wound. I haven't taken spice in a while, or not enough for that matter. Drinks do the trick, but only for a little while. My symptoms seem to have worsened, whatever mental kriffing disability that's going on and eating away at my sanity seems to be getting better at it, if that makes any sense. I'm hoping that talking about this stuff will make it a bit easier over time. I was walking down the market, and I won't dare say where for sake of personal safety, and I heard them. Voices in my head, but not just therre, but in a kind of hallucination. They came from a back alley, whispering something I could never concentrate enough to hear. At the time, I was fairly sober, and my clear thinking was just about out the window. I walked into the alley, and I saw...it. A manifestation of everything I fear. And just past the dumpster? I saw me. Dead. A smoking blaster burn going right through my chest, and a look of..betrayal? Sadness? Something on my face. The image is burned in my brain. The manifestation is undescribable, more like a mass of..things, a black hole of my mind. Endless. Silent. Powerful. I snapped out of it, and soon found a very, very angry thug staring me down. In place of my body, a Quarren sat. Mouth agape in fear. I managed to get out in one piece, with a mix of my looks and my impeccable charm aiding in my freedom. But even right now, sitting in my ship, the one I know so well...something's bothering me. Like that feeling when you're living in a new place, and your mind gets wandering. Every creak scares you, shudders your soul. I just can't shake the feeling like I'm not alone. I need company. Someone I can hold.

The look on my face in my mind is still there. Betrayal. End log."