tag, i'm it

Well, I'm back! Back in black, wrapped in black, you know.

 

*pokes the Shadow-colored journal*

 

 

I'm afraid this gives a horrid impression of emo. Huh.
Oh well, I like the color combo. So sue me.


*is sued by Reala*


Anyway, life is good.
Graduated from high school, wahoo! Happiness all around. And I'm already taking college classes! I never stop moving, no sir. Busybusybusy.
Two words-- killer crosswords. Do not ask.


I've been feeling much better about myself lately. MUCH better, and I have several people to thank, besides God of course.


Here's a note I received today from my dear Ben, and I quote--


"I hold you in high regard for so many reasons, but I think there's a few major ones which fuel me: my goal ever since I met you, it's to be able to draw at a standard like you- the shading, the colouring, and the eyes, ohhh, you draw the best eyes in the world.. Mirage, Phantom, and Delphi, the expressions you give some of them, and your unlimited bank of characters, I've been through your scraps and fallen off my chair a few times!
But the thing which is burned into my soul is that picture of Be. Every time I look at it I can't not be happy in one way or the other... you've paved the way for so much. Kohi, Socks, Kaze and Broken, Breez, Doubt Guilt, none of them would have ever been if it wasn't for that smile you drew on that picture, and for that I'm eternally grateful."


I cried when I read that. Honest to God, I cried.


But I don't hate myself anymore, no sir, and I hope with my entire heart that I never do again.
I... how could I hate myself, when I'm getting notes like that on a daily basis?

 

"Thank you... for being who you are."





Good night, kids.

 

Get out there and live.

 

difficult... unexpected.

...

Dear God... I thought it was over...

Why, WHY does it always turn out this way??

I try so hard.
I fail twice as hard.

I never know what to feel or say anymore, you know? It's really awful...

...

I'm truly, honestly afraid that my mother is kicking me out of the house.

No money.
No transportation.
No anything.
Nowhere to go.

I'm so scared... and I'm so sad.

I know this is all my fault. Every bit of it.

I guess... at home, no matter how hard I try to be kind and good and all that, the shadows around me always seem to aggravate my own to the point of explosion.
Implosion, rather.
Both?

I thought Laurie was gone... I haven't seen her in over a week... but I guess she's not.

I don't want to talk about that right now, though.

I just want to break down and cry, cry until there's nothing left in me, sob my heart out in the desperate hope that it will get rid of the pain, that it will take away some of the fear, that it will save me from whatever hell this is that I'm trapped in.

Dear God I am so scared. I'm scared out of my mind.

I'm such a damn fool sometimes.




"You're the cause of every fight in this house!!"

She's throwing all my belongings into boxes.

"All you ever think of is yourself!!"

I'm crying because I know I've done this to her.

"I can't wait to get out of here and away from you!!"

Or throw me out so you can be happy.



I just want to cry.
I just want to run to someone's arms and feel for a beautifully deluded moment that everything will be okay.
Even though it never will be.

...

What I'd give.
I don't know.
Something, something I can spare.
I can spare a lot, though.
But I have limits.

I still can't spare my life.

Oh, I once thought I could. I was once willing to. And under the right circumstances, I still am.
But not these.
I have to take a deep breath and step into the fire, into the searing panic and pray to God that I'll be delivered somehow.

If I deserve deliverance.

Dear God.... I hope I do. More than anything I hope I do.
I don't want to die. Please, I don't want to die.

I don't want to die here.


... Dot dot dot. Again.


What religion am I, really?
Been thinking about that a lot recently.

I was raised a Roman Catholic, and thanks to the Jewel Monsters and some highly disturbing personal experiences I am devoted to my faith and constantly try my best to live a moral and correct life at all costs.

But I believe everything.
Everything.

At the sake of ludicrous humor, I hear every little belief out there... I believe it all, you know. I damn nothing. I doubt nothing. I close out nothing.
There's always a possibility. Always.

Go ahead and stare, it's okay. But I have a very open heart and a very open mind. I accept everyone. I see the good in everyone, and everything.
Logically, it follows that I am also open to every possible belief ever held dear to anyone's heart ever in the history of mankind or otherwise.

But I'm going in circles. You know what I mean.

And yet... what religion does that make me?
If I believe in God and Jesus Christ and Mary his mother and all the angels and saints and life after death and forgiveness of sins and all that, but also take a look at the values of every other religion out there and the beings they say exist and, although I worship only who I strongly and totally believe to be the one true God, the god of Abraham and all that, still acknowledge the possible existence of those other beings somewhere, and see the truth in their teachings and keep them in mind along with my own, then what am I?

What am I?

...

There goes my mother, damning me again.

Doesn't she know how freaking much it hurts?

...

I need to talk to Justice tonight.
Justice, Devonal, Chaos, and Hosea.
They should be able to help me through this...
God put them in my life for a reason, you know.

Just like everyone else.


...


Oh but enough of the dots and rants I have to go to class.

See you later, I hope.



-s.cannon