Prisoner 240
I could taste the residue of alcohol on my tongue the moment I opened my eyes. My head was spinning and my mouth was burning as if I had swallowed fire and somehow managed to keep it down. The moment I opened my eyes, an intense pain started at the base my skull, working its way over my whole head, making me groan in protest.
The ground dug into my back, the rocky floor bruising my ribs and making it difficult to breathe. Every intake of air was painful, and my whole body groaned in protest. The side of my face that I slept on was throbbing numbly as I swallowed.
I couldn’t tell if it was from the overwhelming smell of body odor and feces or the nausea that ran through my body, but, as I took a deep breath, my stomach lurched, the acid stinging my tongue. Wiping the back of my hand across my mouth, I swallowed back the bile rising in my throat and looked around.
At first, all I could see was a blinding light but when my eyes focused, I realized it was just the sun shining through the bars that served as a window. Straightening, my back cracked and my muscles groaned as I attempted to stand.
The world continued to spin yet I remained still, swaying side to side as if I was standing in the middle of a swimming pool with people walking around me, creating a current that tugged at my clothes and body. It threatened to pull me under, to swallow me completely, and it took me several seconds to find my balance.
Only then did I look down at my vomit-stained clothes and aching body. My head was pounding and my vision was spinning, but as I looked at my hands, I realized something was off.
This wasn’t my body.
The ring on my right hand that I had worn was missing and the hands I now saw were larger and knobbier, the veins making them look more masculine. I pulled up the hem of my shirt and dropped it, looking at the opposite mildew-covered wall, my mouth hanging open in unbelief.
“I’m a guy?” The words left my mouth, echoing the thoughts that were racing through my head.
This wasn’t the first time I had woken up inside someone else’s body. In fact, it had happened 239 times before—this would make it 240.
Sighing, I leaned my head back and stared at the roof, mind racing.
At the beginning of every month, I would wake up in someone else’s body with no memory of the past two days. I would remain in that body for a month and then be moved to another one.
It didn’t faze me that I was a parasite in other people’s bodies. What got to me was the fact that after I left them, they died. No matter where I was, I always got wind of their death only a few days after I had moved on.
Had I killed them or had they already been gone?
Sometimes, I could still feel the soul wandering through every nook and cranny of the body, clinging onto minuscule things in an attempt to stay just a little bit longer. They always leave before the first week was over.
They were scared of me.
I couldn’t blame them. To them, I was a monster, one that was stronger and fiercer than them, ready to fight to the brink of death—of survival. Little did they know that I did my best to help them before I was forced to move on.
Everyone has a goal—one they never get to reach before death pulls them off the edge of reality and sucks their souls away. To you, it may not seem like that big of a deal but to me, it means that I can repay them for their kindness of letting me borrow their body for an extra month.
Whatever that dream was, I would do my best to make it happen before the month was over so they could move on in peace. Sometimes I wouldn’t be able to make it work and that was okay—some goals are too far for someone like me to reach. Other times, I succeed and am able to move on to the next person without regrets.
Taking a deep breath to calm my aching body, I grabbed the cell door and shook it. My fingers were sore, the joints and muscles groaning and complaining as I tightened my hold. Even the smallest movement made me want to shout in protest.
I yelled, doing my best to suppress the screams that rose in the back of my throat, threatening to spill out and release the frustration and pain I had locked away a long time ago.
Another body, another goal.
It was useless to fight for mercy. No one would ever realize that there was a person locked away behind these tear-filled eyes. People would ignore any pleas for help as if they never heard them.
How long would this torture go on for? Was it a punishment for something I had done in the past, one that would extend into all of eternity, or would it eventually come to a stop? Would I ever have a body to truly claim as mine?
Tears trickled down my face, leaving me empty and weak as they dripped from my chin and onto the dirty floor. I could barely make out the guard that stood before me, his mouth moving as he yelled at me. His words were drowned out by the drum-like pounding that rang through my mind, making my bones shake with its echoes.
I wish my soul was made of tears. Then, I would have escaped a long time ago.
How I awoke
Today I feel like the worst version of myself
Mood swings dance about, singing awfully
as if I were at a bar with a karaoke
Shifting tones and mixing lyrics
My universe resides under a new image
Bitter like coffee and cold like winter
were not on my to-do list or so I pictured
This is what my emotions have in store
Go with it or ignore it, but do not punish me for it
Full-mental control is not at my disposal
as it is being tampered with like experimented soil
A Breif History of the Great Northern War
It is that time of the week, now, so let’s delve into another major era of history. If the title wasn’t clear enough, this post will be dedicated to the Great Northern War, which lasted from 1700-1721. Now, I am aware of a great many horrific wars that have been fought through history, but if there was one that I shudder at the thought of above any other, it is the Great Northern War. This is because the war was fought in Northern Europe, where it is often very cold, and I cannot handle the cold.
This war, like most wars, began with a desire for power, but it also had roots stemming from the Thirty Years’ War (I have written a post about that a few weeks ago, as well, if you’d like to read it. It may provide some context for this next conflict). Sweden, of course, was a rare nation in that they had actually benefited from the bloody stalemate that was the Thirty Years’ War. That noted, Sweden had been riding the power they had gained from the conflict for roughly half a century.
Of course, to have power, other people must be weaker. This was the case in seventeenth-century Northern Europe, as Sweden, thanks to their newfound power, dominated many states. These included but were not limited to Poland (which was constantly shifting between independence and Russian control), Denmark, Norway, Saxony, and Lithuania. Of course, some states did benefit from the Swedes, such as Holstein-Gottorp, Livonia, and Ingria. All of this would set the stage for a fairly typical confrontation between two coalitions of power.
Now, before I get into the actual descriptions of the battles and specifics of the Great Northern War, I simply want to affirm that I can only cover this in a very broad manner. This is because the reasons for which the war started and was conducted are incredibly complicated and involved many rulers, politicians, and smaller states. If you are interested in this, I would highly recommend doing some research on the topic yourself if you want more in-debth information.
One last note before I describe the war in earnest: the Electorate of Hanover and Great Britain would join the anti-Swedish alliance in 1714 and 1717, after the war had started, following the Battle of Poltava. The Great Northern War would also involve several impressive military rulers, such as Peter the Great of the Tsardom Russian Empire, Frederick IV of Denmark, and Augustus II (the Strong) of Saxony-Poland-Lithuania. These nations, of course, were opposing the Swedish coalition.
In order for these nations to attack, however, Sweden had to weaken. The chance came when Charles XII took power in Sweden, the shift in leadership appearing to be a moment of vulnerability on Sweden’s part, as Charles XII was very young when he took the throne. The Danish, Saxons, Norwegians, and Russians were the first to declare war on the Swedes in 1700, and engaged the Swedish Holstein-Gottorp first.
However, by 1706, Sweden’s forces had halted the Russian and Danish advance at Travendal and Narva and staged a counteroffensive in which they pushed Augustus II’s forces all the way to Saxony through Poland. This counteroffensive would see Frederick IV and Augustus II leaving the war for a short time, but they would rejoin in 1709 after the defeat of Charles XII (also at the Battle of Poltava).
After this key battle, won by the anti-Swedish forces, several more states joined the coalition, including Prussia and Hanover (again). The Swedes then lost the Baltic Sea, after the fall of the city of Riga, in 1710. By this point, many nations were chipping away at Sweden from all sides, and if I were the leader of Sweden then, I would have surrendered then and there. But, still strong from the Thirty Years’ War, Sweden decided to pursue victory.
However, the Swedes would miraculously defeat the Danes at the Battle of Helsingborg (1710). Nonetheless, the Russian Empire, by 1714, controlled nearly all of Finland, which was a major threat to the Swedish forces. Then came the year 1718, which was pretty eventful for the Swedes. In that year, Charles XII opened a Norwegian front with the intention of pushing back the invaders and past the Russians. The plan would backfire, however, and Charles XII would even be killed in Fredriksten in 1718.
As the war came to a close in 1721, it easily saw the defeat of Sweden, marking the end of Sweden’s era of domination of the Northern regions of Europe. At first, on the side of the victors, it seemed that Britain would gain most of the benefits from the conflict and take up occupancy in the Swedish regions, which would have greatly improved trade and power. However, the British soon became involved in the War of the Spanish Succession far to the West (which was a very, very costly war, one of the deadliest in history).
This left most of the spoils of the Great Northern War to Russia, and Russia used them well. Following the signing of the treaties of Stockholm, Nystad, and Frederiksborg, the Russian Empire became the dominant power in North-Eastern Europe. This dominance would last until the Crimean war ended in 1856 (I also have a post involving that, if you’d like to read it: “The World War One Story as it Really Happened”).
So, that concludes the Great Northern War, a conflict that really marked a drastic turning point in the history of Northern Europe. The balance of power shifted from Sweden to Russia, and, with the construction of Petersburg by Peter the Great, Russia would also emerge as a large trading nation by the mid eighteenth century. If you made it to the end of this post, thank you for reading, and I do hope you enjoyed it.
#nonfiction
Black and Blood
I have three tattoos so far (I count them as three / they could be four or twenty) and their unifying theme is that they're all black.
For some reason I decided early on - at 14, when I still debated whether getting scratched by a needle was worth looking cool - that none of my tattoos would be in color. It might sound odd, but I didn't like the look of colorful tattoos. As they aged they faded into pastel, chalky shadows; whereas black tattoos faded like fine ink on old parchment.
I got my first tattoo at 25; a small one, just to test my pain tolerance. Tattoos are addictive in the sense that once you realize you can live through them, you want more. I got my next one at 28; my last one at 30.
I'm overdue now and I've had a list building up. The next one I want is a copy of my partner's first armband they designed themselves. We decided it would become our family symbol, since we both like it and we've been together long enough that my fears of committment can now be inked away.
After that my arms feel empty, and I have various ideas for how to fill them. Then my back still has some space. My legs and calves in particular...
And then one day a tiny sliver over or near my heart - as close as a family history of cardiovascular disease can allow - that symbolizes a crack in my skin, a sort of visible chink in my armor.
For this tattoo I'd allow a splash of color; the inner vibrancy I hold tightly seeping outwards onto the surface of myself. What color I'm not sure; red is always a bold choice, yet it tends to bleed heavy. Yellow or white might look more lightened. Heck I could go rainbow and add fuel to my lover's debate on my actual sexuality. Or maybe a bright blue or natural green.
Whatever I end up with, my skin aches to be painted. With the shelter-in-place restrictions nearly lifted in our area I'm waiting to schedule an appointment as soon as safely possible. Granted my lover has a strong say in when that happens, especially as I must beg them for their design, but once it's done I will feel that happiness that only comes with a fresh new brand and the scent of copper.
Dental Hijinks
Toothpaste is kinda stupid.
I’m not saying stop brushing your teeth, I’m merely suggesting to watch out before putting something into your mouth.
Most people focus on the active ingredient on the label, which is fluoride. To avoid the conspiracy debates this post doesn’t care about the active ingredient, so we’re leaving this right here and moving on to the inactive ingredients:
Glycerin - this is a pretty common ingredient that acts as a preservative for many foods while giving toothpaste its “paste” texture
Propylene Glycol - the same glycol in your antifreeze, this keeps the toothpaste from drying out in the tube not your mouth
Saccharin - fake sugar; supposedly doesn’t cause cavities though which is good because
Hydrated Silica - yup, those annoying DO NOT EAT pellets in microscopic size provide an abrasive to scrub the teeth (this used to be chalk) leaving tiny unseen gouges where bacteria can easily hide so they add
Formaldehyde-Releasing Preservatives - not formaldehyde itself, just chemicals that release the same thing under different names, but in quantities that aren’t even required to be listed on the label
Dyes - what else did you assume “whitening” was?
Studies have shown you can brush your teeth with water just fine; brushing should focus on dusting off plaque, not whitening, bleaching, or freshening up your teeth.
This concludes the vindicated five-year-old me’s tirade on why toothpaste is stupid.
Last Laugh
“Ahhh, Dionysus, I am about ready to tell you something that will rattle your wine bottles. You were born of Zeus and Semele but the goddess, Hera, was jealous that Samele snagged your Dad so she ripped you to pieces. Your heart was then placed in Zeus” thigh where you once again became a child, Dionysus.
You were hidden by your aunt and raised as a girl to hide from Hera’s wrath and you embraced feminity, becoming a cross-dresser. Later, you rejected this identity and became bigender.
When you married Ariadne, you assumed a transfemine identity when you became the god of sex, wine and orgies. So you are not who you pretend to be, I am sorry to say!”
“Ha! Ha!” guffawed Dionysus. I have know this all long but since this is not accepted here, I dress like a man and people do not know the real Dionysus! I have to bind my breasts in order to hide these facts. Since you have made me laugh, I am transporting you to my world as a court jester but you won’t be able to participate in the festivities. Your only job is to make me laugh!
I then realized that Dionysus was having the last laugh!
