Orion's Thoughts

[Orion Malfoy]

(1/9/22)
I cannot sleep. I will not sleep. I am never sleeping again.

I will burn whatever parchment I write on later, probably, but it probably wouldn't hurt to place some stinging hexes on this... hah, unless someone decides to touch it.

This is a forward, a scrap of parchment torn off of other things. It's just that now, everything hurts. I don't understand why I'm acting this way around him. I don't know what's bothering my brother. I miss Antioch, who is probably preening his feathers in indifference right now, or perhaps harassing the smaller owls (bless him).

The first is my real problem. He's been an annoying git for years and now I suddenly can't respond to him. I understand that I should respect elders, my seniors in my house... but holding your tongue is not the same as being without. It's like a tongue twisting curse whenever I'm around him. Luckily, I don't really have to see him a lot if I don't want to... I don't want to be a sissy or overreact to this, though. I'm going to finish this, then go to the common room. Hopefully, I won't reflect on this too much more.

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[Orion Malfoy]

(1/9/22)
I can't remember feeling so sick without illness, which I generally considered myself without but thoughts are bothering me. They're lapping eagerly at my mind and no amount temple massaging can remedy it. It can't be, so I generally dismiss it. That. The thought that it is I find so ridiculous it is not worth looking into. I just want sleep. I want to ignore everything. I want to stop shivering, to stop my mind's dangerous wandering. I think I might take a shower, at risk of waking or irritation the people around the bathrooms. It's times like this I wish I was a prefect like Scorpius, or would get around to asking someone the password, or believing someone will actually tell me.

The permeating feeling is that I need to not linger on things my mind naturally leans toward. To ignore all that it finds interesting, the patterns and its thoughts on its persuasions. My word choice now, even... It's frail and inappropriate. I cannot organize my thoughts in my head (which I think I am partially grateful for). I don't know why this doesn't upset me--it should--but I feel like reflection is just the gateway to a more complicated place. I'm s--I don't know where it will lead. I don't like surprises. I just really don't.[/size]

[Orion Malfoy]

2.9.22 Burn
This, before I write it I will admit it will probably go with my other thoughts to be burned. The pain in my head increases but I cannot help but smile. It attacks the thoughts I am having about a certain person. I don’t know why I insist on being vague and elusive on a document that I have no intention of anyone reading, but it is just another thing to add to the one of things I have come to do without rational reason. It’s growing unsettlingly long. I don’t understand …

No, I do. The rational mind that I have, cunning and ambitious is drowning over the more fawning side of my brain that I had hoped withered after all of these years. My ambition turns to more silly desires, to hold and to watch. To merely be close—the thought breathes relaxation to my tired muscles and tranquility to my pounding head. Ironic, as when it actually happens I am very hardly at ease. It was not always like that but I cannot place the stem of these thoughts. How long have I been sneaking more glances, or aware of that messy hair with a fondness as opposed to a slight amount of disdain for its untidiness? When did my thoughts shift to the softness of skin, rich, and full hair and playful eyes that are suddenly nothing like my own?

I certainly have respect for him …but is that not natural? I can name, easily, any pair of elders in my house that I respect (if not constantly, then a great deal of the time) and will adhere and even cede to when it is required but they do not occupy my mind so firmly (a fact that I am extremely glad/grateful of).

I have so much that I need to do, ambitions after school’s completion to those in Quiddich and destroying those Gryffindor who have the choking pride and stunning arrogance that is beautiful after seizing victory from them. The broken gazes and poorly hidden disappointment or surprise or even anger amuse me to no ends. I have to fly after classes, perhaps it will calm my nerves. But I digress. I must pursue a career, gain recognition, succeed… let people know of the Malfoy worth again. To be allowed to show scorn of second-class treatment and those who say our name was driven to the dirt.
I want to breathe in the fresh air of the Manor’s gardens and stroll truly at ease for once, to be allowed calmness in filth and smile.

Of course, I know these wants are ridiculous. They’re less wants and fleeting desires, I am sure. My throat locks in a human way I cannot prevent and behind glacial glares I give and receive, that one person can make my face warm. It’s not unbelievable, I have friends regardless of what many idiotic Gryffindors think (if they can do that). But it’s never been so hard with his teasing. It makes my mind wander to pleasant things, skipping past everything rational in the meanwhile.

My head hurts more now. I don’t want to move. My mouth is sealed to the taste of bile. The sour taste makes me swallow to my stomach, and it’s churning for reasons I don’t (yet) understand. The spiking pain is horrible, but tolerable. I certainly deserve it, in the bright sun leaning against the castle before most are up and about. In the pleasant warming of the grounds, my head will follow suit, determined to exchange the goosebumps on my arms for my free hand soothing my mind as it rebels. I think of excitement of classes, weakly, and of Quiddich a great deal more. It excites me too, it is a passion but it will not fully occupy a bothered mind. I think of one thing at once. It helps my mind stay clear, but the inability to foster multiple ideas and tasks is often unhelpful to me.

I don’t know why I can write so clearly when my mind is a storm, incomprehensible, beyond description. Beyond the tomes of the Manor that spoke of inscribed language since its beginning or dictionaries full of words that would expand the vocabulary and occupy my time in the Manor with helpful knowledge… beyond a quill that I will break if I keep squeezing it too much.
It is quite an expensive quill.
My head hurts more now. My eyes squeeze shut to hide.
I am ddone fot now I thin

[Orion Malfoy]

2.9.22
There is much to consider and I look forward to it.

[Orion Malfoy]

A Haunting (Series of Non-Poetry by O.M.)

When I sleep—when I sleep it is there taunting
What Lord relieves this? No reprieve
Fuck
Merlin’s crooked elbow
Anything but this
Why won’t it go away?

These things unbidden
Lap at my feet and snap at my ankles
Like dogs, rabid and salivating
Salivation
Fuck
Peace has mercilessly departed

Is there purpose
When everything is a failure?

Those eyes
Haunting
Bloody Baron’s greeting
Of the first years can’t compare
And I cannot hide from that knowing
Bloody fuck
Need to stop writing like this habit
But I need, I think to move past
If I wither then what tends
The new and better plant
It can start over this time
And be Gold of Kinabalu
Instead of Raoulia eximia