Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Soliloquies ❯ Yohji and his fucked up mind ( Chapter 1 )

Yohji and his fucked up mind

I wonder if I were just really imagining everything. If one day I would wake up and wake up differently… you know, different in a sense that I'm not employed in such a job, lead such a life, carry such a torch. I wonder. I'd go to sleep with this thought, and when I wake up and remember what I was thinking the night (or morning) before, I'd be disappointed to find that no, Yohji, you're still Yohji. And that's where everything's wrong and right at the same fucking time. If I were still Yohji, the Yohji that I know or think or would like to, then I'd be straight as a rod. But when I look down and see that tent in my sheets, and I remember the dream I had, I know I'm no longer. No self-respecting straight man would dream the dreams I dream of late. And this Yohji, with the not-so-straight dreams and tents in sheets, is someone so… not Yohji. At least not the Yohji I would like to think.

But I guess that's how it is with us, right? You see yourself in the most distorted way, as if through rose-tinted glasses. You try to make yourself bigger than you really are. And, as honest as I can say, I've long stopped sewing patches on what I think of myself. Before, when idealism was my favorite pastime, I would see myself like some knight- saving innocents and respecting women, bedding them in the process. Now, I see myself as is- a killer with a rep for being good in bed. I'm not even sure if we're on the right side of the proverbial fence. I could try fucking around that fact, but it still remains a fact no matter what goddamned lie I try to fool myself with. Is this defeated resignation? No. it's as honest as a man in my position can get. We live lies, our whole bleeping lives are practically lies- we're supposed to be dead, you see. The only true things with us is our sins I guess. And even that, on the basis of whether there is a judgment day or if there is a big wig up there, remains to be proven true.

My life to date then is like being wait-listed for the whole of your day, waiting with whatever emotion for something that you don't even know. So now, with my manhood teetering on the edge, another doubt preys on my well-being. How can I screw something as simple as human instinct? See, my instinct tells me to prey on the one with big boobs, legs up to the armpits and the short skirt. My instinct kicks in and I go into auto-pilot, sex after all is a human instinct, even stark raving loonies know how to do it. So how the hell does one, especially one who claims to be a really good lay, screw that? I bed women. Period. I don't do men.

BUT.

See, there's always a `but' somewhere. But I've been having these weird dreams, weird in the sense that I'm dreaming of making out with a man. I mean whoa. What's that about, some traditional Freudian slip? I mean, sure I've lived with my mom, and sure my biological dad wasn't there. But is that enough ground to make me a fag, at least in dreams? Come on Yohji, pull yourself together. Okay, here's another theory to throw into the whole question: I've been with women a lot that it actually made me `tire' of them. Okay scratch that; that was stupid. But it makes you think, you know? And it's not just a dream of some ghost man, I mean, you know, some faceless man. It was someone real, someone I know, someone I live with. See where I'm getting at here? My head is totally fucked up. All these kooky images resurfacing in my mind's eye whenever I chance by him in the shop, at the mission room, hell even during fucking missions! And it's driving me nuts, I'm telling you! And… well… now it's seems like I'm fucking obsessed with the guy! Yohji Kudou, for fuck's sake, is obsessed with another man! Holy shit!