Effing destiny

Went skiing today. Didn't end so well. It was my first (and probably last) trip out of the year, and all seemed fine. We went up and down the most challenging hills there, although Warren (my dad's friend who came with us) insisted that they were beneath him. I wasn't about to argue. I fell once in the morning, but wasn't hurt.
Then, last run of the day before we packed it in, I went too fast, slipped on a dry patch, and fell. Things get a bit hazy after that. I remember tumbling, then blacking out. I woke up a second later in a ditch. It seems I'd fallen, slid across the ice at high speed, tumbled into the ditch, and rolled through branches and across rocks for a good ten feet. Lying there, looking back up at the carnage behind me, I couldn't understand why nothing was broken. In fact, I'm pretty much fine. There's a couple big bruises on my leg and left arm, as well as a few small ones all over me. My helmet was pretty scratched up. I have a small cut under my chin and a gash on my right knee that's swollen and won't stop bleeding, but it should die down soon enough. Could easily have been a lot worse. My knee's bothering me, but I can still hobble about. They tell me by tomorrow I'll be feeling really battered. Joy. I dread tomorrow.
Still, nothing broken. I don't have a concussion, not even a headache. I seem pretty fine. Shame about the knee, but oh well, could easily have been a lot worse. I'll see how I am tomorrow.

An old friend of mine got in contact with me a couple days ago. He wanted to talk to me about something he felt only I might understand. And if that's ever the case, you can tell it's something pretty batshit crazy.
See, he's come to the conclusion that his soul is Draconian in origin. He's come to this through reading, meditation, and analysis of his admittedly dragonlike personality. A lot of it seems to stem straight from the repressed fantasy of a misogynistic geek, but maybe that's just what I want to believe. I don't know what would be worse, if he's right or if he's wrong. Certainly he's got it all worked out in his head. Based on my extremely limited understanding of the subject, it does seem to make sense. Otherkin... I don't like them. They seem wrong. Even the concept of them, something deep in me is saying, is wrong. And that's not wrong as in untrue. Given the possibility of my own origins... I don't know. If so, we come from very different worlds. Maybe that's what bothers me. I explained our suspicions about the Giants to him. He said that I made the Otherkin sound perfectly plausible.
Thing is, he predicted a battle. Something is coming, he said, something that will tear this world apart. And you know, I've had the same feelings for the longest time. Whatever.
He even has a name. Yarchonis. What do I have? A bunch of feelings, several buckets of confusion and a demonic parental figure with a host of malicious servants. Physically I'm normal. Mentally there's no reason I couldn't just be insane. Empathy? Nothing anyone can prove. So what if I can take away headaches etc? So what if... I won't bother. I've even asked God, sometimes. He's answered yes and He's answered no. I think, what with all the confusion, the doubts, and the general chaos of being me, I don't really want to know. I've said that about many things. Being certifiably insane is only marginally better than actually having these things in my life. Either way, I don't know if I can live with it. For better or for worse. Sometimes, though, I wish I could just be Alex. Just be the kind yet troubled boy people think I am. Without all the chaos. Without all the secrets. Without... any of this. Carry on my education and career, be the man Danica wants me to be, live my life. I don't want all this.
Not that it matters. I go on. It's what I do.
I don't need a name, not like my ancestors. I have Alexander. Defender of men. Some day, perhaps, I will deserve it.

If I go on to become infamous or legendary for whatever reason, and I maintain this, someday people will read it. Perhaps to see what I was like when I was young, or to revel at my thoughts, or perhaps to chronicle my descent into madness. At this point I realize that I may be disappointing them. The future! I need to find more relevant thoughts, more beautiful sayings, more things worth reading. Or is that silly?
I still don't really think of myself as deserving happiness. But whatever. Maybe I'll get over that some day.