Nov. 5th, 2010

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I don't think it's working.

I don't think it's going to work.

Anytime I try to sleep I just have these dreams. Torn-off heads. Dungeons. Father. Even normal things-- like beaches; the hot springs at Ember Island or learning to swim in the ocean-- they're all turning into nightmares.

I want to call Lilith. I want to call Lisa at work. I want to go train for five hours straight until my skin is on fire and my muscles are burning with pain.

This'll probably be visible. I locked it, but it probably won't work, and the world will know how pathetic I am. Not crazy. Just pathetic. They'll avoid me, which I won't mind until the next time I get lonely; they'll think I'm weird and creepy, which I will mind, because that's not what perfect warriors are like. I can't sleep.

My country is dying and I can't go help it because apparently I'm not strong enough-- I know I wouldn't be able to wrestle it away from Zuko and the rest of the traitors with the way I am now and knowing that only makes it worse.





Soon, this'll go away and I'll be able to rest again, and I'll be able to trick myself into thinking that I'm close to being back to my old self. And then it'll repeat itself. Again. And again. And again. No end in sight.

It's no wonder people say they'd just let me drown. Father would do the same thing.

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阿祖拉 | Azula

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