Sharon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
number_eight) wrote2007-12-04 12:12 am
number_eight) wrote2007-12-04 12:12 am
Entry tags:
207 - Control
It's the lie that you believe, that you buy into. You have to, because it's your programming, so what else can you do? You follow your orders even though you don't know that's what they are at the time. You touch the Cylon Raider and call it your pet, stroking it carefully.
You don't know any better. All you want is to sneak away with Chief somewhere and have him kiss you. Have him tell you that everything is going to be okay. That his crew will be covering your ass so you don't get into trouble and neither will he for your relationship. Just because you are a superior officer.
What's weird is that that is the normal part.
You're not in control of that, either, not really in control of much of anything right now. Spiraling down, as if the FTL drive on your Raptor shut off and DRADIS kicked in with multiple contacts. Falling. Sinking, Drowning.
Drowning in water that you don't remember anything about. Where did it come from? It doesn't matter, you tell yourself, because Chief will cover your ass again and everything will be fine.
Only, that's a lie, too, and pretty soon your whole life is a lie. Your parents aren't your parents, your past isn't your past, and your memories aren't your memories. You cling to something solid, but it slips between your fingers because you're just a frakking toaster, no matter how much you want to tell yourself you're not, and then there's Cally with a gun and blood everywhere. You tell him that you love him, and then you wake up and you're not dead. No; they won't let you die in peace, because you're a Cylon. You get to live and live and live and be re-born into another body because Cylons will win the war and God loves you. It's not the truth, though. You lie to yourself sometimes, but you know what the truth is.
The truth is that no one is in control, and you're a puppet on some strings being pulled and twisted this way and that for someone's perverse pleasure.
You just don't know who it is.
Muse : Sharon "Boomer" Valerii
Fandom : Misc. TV/"Battlestar Galactica"
Word Count : 363
You don't know any better. All you want is to sneak away with Chief somewhere and have him kiss you. Have him tell you that everything is going to be okay. That his crew will be covering your ass so you don't get into trouble and neither will he for your relationship. Just because you are a superior officer.
What's weird is that that is the normal part.
You're not in control of that, either, not really in control of much of anything right now. Spiraling down, as if the FTL drive on your Raptor shut off and DRADIS kicked in with multiple contacts. Falling. Sinking, Drowning.
Drowning in water that you don't remember anything about. Where did it come from? It doesn't matter, you tell yourself, because Chief will cover your ass again and everything will be fine.
Only, that's a lie, too, and pretty soon your whole life is a lie. Your parents aren't your parents, your past isn't your past, and your memories aren't your memories. You cling to something solid, but it slips between your fingers because you're just a frakking toaster, no matter how much you want to tell yourself you're not, and then there's Cally with a gun and blood everywhere. You tell him that you love him, and then you wake up and you're not dead. No; they won't let you die in peace, because you're a Cylon. You get to live and live and live and be re-born into another body because Cylons will win the war and God loves you. It's not the truth, though. You lie to yourself sometimes, but you know what the truth is.
The truth is that no one is in control, and you're a puppet on some strings being pulled and twisted this way and that for someone's perverse pleasure.
You just don't know who it is.
Muse : Sharon "Boomer" Valerii
Fandom : Misc. TV/"Battlestar Galactica"
Word Count : 363
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