the spectrum heart cathedral system

 

 

So I'm sitting here at 9:30 PM, feeling like I'm about to either pass out or puke my insides out. The power keeps going out and my mom has her boyfriend home so her voice is stuck in baby-talk mode. I'm having some very bad PTSD flashbacks and I'm trying to keep calm but right now, I'm just hugging my Chaos Chao plush and trying not to cry or meltdown. I'm not doing well.

There is no such thing as safety. I know that.
But for once in my life, I'd like to be able to live in a house where I don't feel threatened or panicked so freaking often.
I can't live with my father. That would make this worse, believe me. I have considered it multiple times but it would not work.
Waiting until spring to move to Utah is my only option, but I've been forcibly blinding myself to the problems I'd face out there simply because it is my only way out. And my family is already trying to talk me out of it, again.

I want to get out of here and never stop running. I want to be free and alive and real.
Not stuck in this dark, dismal, dangerous place.

Whenever stuff like this happens my mind shuts down and I just want to be with him.
I want to be with her. I want to be with any of them, anyone who I can show love to.
I get so sad and yet I still know that there is such brightness there, that cannot be hurt or broken even in the face of all this pain.

I've realized what I'm looking for in a relationship, too.
I need someone who is in love with a soul beyond the stars, like I am. I need to find someone whose heart is bound in a transcendent love like that, and yet who is still willing to give love to someone here on earth.
I am. I need someone to give this love to, here, who understands completely, who can give it back.
I still feel like Homura. I still need someone to protect and guide.
But I know what my heart is really searching for.

I am too sick to be awake right now.
I'm going to sleep, talk to Laurie and pray my boss can help.
My sole refuge is the undying hope that tomorrow will be better.

 

 

 

 

 

I've been having a lot of hacks recently.

Don't get all freaked out though-- this is a completely different situation that in has ever been, and although it is still incredibly dangerous and painful, I have made incredible progress in fighting it and I want to make sure that is understood here (I haven't updated here in a while, after all).

Now, as it will take far too long to reiterate here, I shall give you links to previous discussions of the incredible events that have been happening in my life since you last heard from me on this journal.
They are spread throughout many websites and brought together here for your understanding, just like my wonderfully multiversal life!

June 27th: Scribbld and one currently unfinished Blurty entry (MAJOR)
June 28th: Scribbld
June 29th: Blurty and Scribbld
June 26th through June 29th: Xanga session (MAJOR)
June 30th: Blurty and Scribbld
July 2nd: Blurty (MAJOR)
July 5th: Scribbld
July 6th: Scribbld
July 7th: Scribbld (MAJOR)
July 8th: Blurty (MAJOR) and Scribbld
July 9th: Blurty and Scribbld

...Yeah, I've been writing a LOT lately.
Ironically, although none of it has been on this journal (due to this one being reserved for darker news), you IJ readers are now likely more in the loop than ever. Seriously, look at that comprehensive little list. You can't go wrong there.
If you're only interested in major events, just read those-- I have them marked!

Anyway. Now that you're hopefully up to speed, let me add a little bit more.

After Wednesday, Julie lost her entire influence over my waking life. She cannot hack me while I am conscious anymore, which has never happened before (and it is wonderful). However... Julie doesn't go down easy. Being a shadow, she is an incredibly primal thing, and when her existence as that dark concept is threatened, she lashes out with everything she can.
I have been getting hacked, terribly, almost every night since the 29th.
That's bad enough in and of itself, but what disturbs me the most is the way she has modified her methods.
As she can no longer directly assault me (thank God; you do NOT want to know what she's done to me in past nightmares), she has to 'reroute' her influence indirectly in order to damage me at all.
So she is now hurting other people so she can hurt me even more.
This has to stop.
I don't know what to do about it yet... my boss is really angry, so I can count on him helping me along with this, but it scares me to realize just how vicious Julie is getting. I'm really afraid of what she might try next if we manage to stop her here.

I reclaimed my stolen color from her, sure, but now she's trying to steal mine.

I can't let that happen.

 

 

I haven't felt so devastatingly depressed since my time in the hospital.
I just want to collapse and cry until this feeling of violation goes away, somehow. It's very disconcerting.
I cannot wait to see my therapist tomorrow.

Yesterday... I did some research. I did some frightening research but I found something even more frightening.
Julie has more motivation than we thought.
And only now do I realize the entire, horrific extent of what she has been doing to me.
I am legitimately terrified.

I've been getting far too many hacks lately, mostly when I'm unconscious or mostly so.
It's been cruelly hard for me to fall asleep lately, due to how sick I feel, which is more dangerous than I previously realized.
A few nights ago... it was about 3AM, I was hacked as I was trying to fall asleep. I couldn't even form a coherent sentence, couldn't even stand up. And I was hacked. It was horrible.
But I remember, dimly, before I blacked out I saw Laurie outright sobbing. She... she never does that.
She didn't know I could see her. I haven't told her that I know yet.
It broke my heart. It hurt so much to see that.
I just don't know how to stop this.
And I need to, as soon as possible.
I don't want to die, not yet. Not like this.

I'm also feeling terribly ill, mostly because of my new diet restrictions (there's very little in this house that I can eat now). I'm worried about that too.

I am under way too much stress right now.
Also, my therapist says I show the symptoms of a traumatized person! No surprise there.
I just hope I'm not dead at age 30 from all this. It never, ever stops.

Geez, this needs to stop. I need to figure something out.
I'll keep trying though. I'll keep working hard. We won't give up, no matter how dark this gets.

 

I really don't know why I bother posting updates on FB.
No one ever takes things seriously.

...Last night, after staying up past midnight to make sure Jesus wasn't Rapture-lagging, I was browsing through my personal art folders and suddenly this awful realization dawned on me.
I've had to bury my children.
I don't care if your kids are biological, emotional, or whatever; if you're a 'parent' or 'guardian' by any standards, that is one of the most horrible things you can feel. And I have lost so many of them.
The problem is that I refused to acknowledge that pain when it happened. I tried to numb myself to it, tried to keep walking and pretend everything was okay, lying to myself.
And then last night, I looked at a picture of them and I realized they were gone.


I just... this is all completely overwhelming me. It hurts so, so much.

Words do no justice. I'm sorry.

 

--------------------------------------------------------

 

@ 08:48 pm

 

 

I really, really need a new way to deal with this. Fast.

I don't know what my thanatos splinter is doing. Do I really need to be destroyed this thoroughly? Am I going too far?
Because really, I am so honestly tired of spending all my days in pain. Pain, all the time. All my fault.
I go to extremes just to make myself suffer, to make myself sick. I take stupid risks for it all the time.
And why? Destroying this body isn't going to create a new one, no matter how badly we wish it would.
And oh God, the nightmares. The nightmares.

But I can't stop. This has been going on for too long, too strongly.
I have a splinter problem and it is literally killing me, bit by bit, every day, consciously, willingly.

To think my therapist asked me about suicide today, and I said no! How ridiculous.
Suicide doesn't have to be planned, it doesn't have to be instantaneous.
This is suicide. This is slow, merciless, painful suicide.
I almost miss the knives. How I wish I could just hand this drive over to Laurie and be done with it.

I can't even sleep now, for heavens sake. I'm in too much pain. I can feel my body convulsing.
I am honestly terrified of what I am doing to us.


How do I stop this?
I can't kill a splinter. But a splinter can't be put back.

I don't want to murder us.

 

 

 

I am so, so terribly sick of being an 'individual.'

Post-death reintegration is sounding better and better as the days burn on.

Now that I've learned that I am a fragment, like the rest of us, this meat cage is becoming steadily more devastating.

But I cannot kill it or it would kill all of us, good and bad.

I still do not think that sacrifice would be worth it, considering what I feel we need to accomplish before death.

If it were an option, though...



I need to commit egocide.

I need to become a mental assassin, and soon.

Laurie cannot do this for me. I wish she could. But she cannot.

I hate using the word 'I.'

Should I write in third person from now on? Perhaps. The style would change entirely though.

And I cannot step away from the steering wheel.

If I relinquish control, even through simply detaching entirely from this shell, it takes over.

I understand her plan now. Oh do I understand it. I know what she wants now.

I will never, ever let her succeed.

But the victories are few. I have too many battle scars, too many traumas.

This is not political. This is not revenge.

No, this is the extermination of an inherent destructive force with naught but selfish gratification in mind.

She would tear a man limb from limb if it would accomplish her whims.

I will no longer stand by and let this vessel be mercilessly mutilated.

It is the only means of physical interaction we have.

I don't know how many we're up against. I know there are at least two.

There used to be so many more. Perhaps they are still in the shadows.

We are six strong.

With any luck we may become seven due to the current unfortunate circumstances.

But that is not the point.


My final statement, and my driving goal,

is to completely detach from this state,

and free us all from this dark tyranny.



We have a long way to go.

It is so weird how I have to judge the mood of an entry before I post it anywhere.

Anyway, hello. Today is Thanksgiving over in the lovely USA. It was also snowing earlier today. Pretty good start for the day, right? I wish the rest of it had followed suit, but that's life...
I managed to wash up without being hacked this morning, which also meant that I had to switch my arm bandages. However, upon removing them, I noticed two things: the cuts had not healed and were still bleeding, and the skin that had been under the bandage was all red and slightly swollen. Yes, they are non-latex, so it must be an allergy to whatever substitute is used. Originally I thought it was only a random reaction, but this keeps happening, no matter what brand I use, so I have concluded that bandages = no help whatsoever. So yes, I managed to wrap it up in medical gauze for now. The whole situation is just really distressing me.
I don't want to elaborate on why. I'll just say that... that I found something that obviously belonged to my mother while I was looking for the gauze downstairs, and I seriously wanted to throw up for about an hour afterwards.
I'm not even accepted in my own 'minority.' Where am I supposed to look now?

I bit the bullet and started re-reading Trying Human yesterday, after having avoided it for over a year thanks to the brief nudity in it. Kind of sick how both TH and Jack have hideous triggers in them, but both deal with subject matter I really find personally significant. So I have to be careful or I can easily be gutted on the spot.
But yeah, um... the real and quite significant reason I started re-reading TH was because I went on a sentimental favebinge on dA yesterday... and during that time, I came across these two. Don and Longus. Guess who they remind me of?
...Yeah, so it hit me hard. It lit me up, brighter than I've been in far too long, and then it hit me so hard I've been completely out of it since last night.
I also found this and this earlier that day... I... well, I'm still reeling from how deeply they affected me. I was in tears from the first one.
The distance, and my own fragile instability, really hurt today.
I've been choking back dysphoria but I'm afraid it's poisoning me from the inside out.

My mother and her boyfriend are in the kitchen and it's driving me mad. I've never been a fan of romance, but over the past few months I have developed a severe and violent reaction to it. So this is driving me to the edge of a breakdown but I need to finish typing my series revisions and I have nowhere else to go.
I can't take it. I really can't take it. I can't take all these sounds and movements and lights. I need a blizzard to hit, soon, so I can at least have a quiet white place to run to when this happens. Winter is my only sanctuary.
I think I'm going to go to bed at 8 or 9PM today. I can't stay awake anymore, and it's not because of fatigue-- I don't feel tired until I wake up-- it's because my coping mechanisms have been shot through and I can't deal with this safely. Laurie has forbidden self-abuse unless it's for the gravestones, and dear God but I NEVER want to bury another child ever again.
It's killing me. I'm dying.

I don't even know why I'm updating.
I am so sick of computers... heck, I've never liked them. I despise having to sit in front of this awful glowing screen all day in order to get work done, only to be constantly interrupted and traumatized by the horrific whims of the thousands of other souls sitting in front of glowing screens.
I feel so sick being here. I don't want to be here. I want to work and that's all.
I've seriously considered packing up my Macbook and locking it away somewhere, but the only thing keeping me from doing that is my fear of losing either of the two girls I love while I'm disconnected. It's almost happened before.
But geez... I cannot take this. I really can't.

If I suddenly disappear for a long time, don't worry. We'll all be better off.

 

 

 

I have been too cruel.
I have been too harsh.

I only meant to speak the truth, but I was too brutal with it.

I have hurt many. I have damaged many.
I am so terribly sorry.


I hold no grudges. I have forgiven every soul that ever transgressed me.

My only regret is that I did not truly live during my 20 years.

I was always told, 'you have plenty of time left.' 'Wait until you grow older.'
I will no longer grow any older. I have no time left.
The dreams and goals I was told to wait upon can no longer be fulfilled.
I am so sorry I took it all for granted.
I am so sorry we took it all for granted.

Ever since my childhood, I knew I would die at this age.
I was told to stop being silly. I was told to stop worrying.
I shouldn't have stopped.

There are so many things I will never do,
and so many things I will never say,
simply because I thought we had more time.


I have met and lost so many souls since my first days in this world, it would be near impossible for me to list you all here.
Rest assured I still remember you, and hold nothing against you.

To all those I have deeply loved... in my mind, in my past or at a distance... nothing has changed. Even now, nothing has faded. Remember me, if you will.


This will likely be the last you hear of me, and I apologize.
I never meant to harm a soul.

If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, thank you.


It is so hard to find the right words.
I have no time for regrets.


Above all else, my final hope is that my life has not been lived in vain.
I hope that I have truly inspired, enlightened, uplifted. If I have saved a life, in any sense, then I have not wasted my time here.



God have mercy on me.

This will be painful, and it will be difficult, but I can no longer run.


I am thankful I got to live, but now...
Now it is time to face what lies beyond.




-JL

 

Am I really that unstable right now?

Aha, ha haha.

Maybe I'm just seeing clearly; coldly.
It's a pain in the neck. Then again that may just be because of this bizarre seating position.

Think about it though... life, odds, time. How much is ours? No, the truth may never be known. Yet I do know one thing.
These transient passing things hold no meaning to me, no, none at all. Please leave me be.

I am also tired of this, how do you say? This strange imposition.
I do not like when others try to assume things, when they try to 'enhance' my life. Do you think you know me that well?
If your answer is yes, then do cease and desist. You do not understand that when events, when certain fragments are taken out of the context of my internal life, my introspective world, they lose their meaning. They become false, twisted, wrong.
Please do not impose. It's quite rude.

What to do...



Should I run off on a tangent? What flickering, manic thoughts shall I transform into text? What glass fragments shall draw blood?
Hm.
I'm not too sure.

Oh yes! Transgressions! Friends and enemies.
Who am I to judge?
Both can be all. All can be both. There is no way for me to differentiate.
Leave it in God's hands, I say; let Him figure it out at this point. To give me say over such a paradox would be catastrophic indeed.

I wonder what would happen if I channeled Laurie.
Ah, Laurie. What a doll. What a strange, bloody, gorgeously horrific doll. What violet rage!
I haven't spoken to her lately. Tis a shame, yes sir. We get along amusingly well, haha.

To think, to speak, to dream, to write. All of these and yet none.
What an interesting state a mind is in.
What if it were morning? What would I do? Lost within the shuddering second-hands. Flutters, snaps, silence. Time.
The early-hour fog.

Look at all these tiny tiny paragraphs. Ridiculous! I seem to like the enter key a bit much. Ah yes, he and I go way back; or forwards if you prefer.

A thought, a thought; a penny for your meanderings and a fortune for your introspection. What shall it be, dear sir? You make the call.

I have very little memory of my past, I daresay. It's quite interesting, quite harrowing. To think back upon the fact, I mean.
Childhood. Ah yes. Little bits and bats, here and there, broken and sparkling. Glory days and ill-faring evenings. What recollections I collect.
To be frank, the entire history of my worldly life is contained within my own mind. Irony! How precious little I can conjure from the physical realm. Yes, my friends, all I have deemed worthwhile never occurred within the view of bystanders.
Sixth grade was lovely. My only memories of that time involved channeling; drawing, writing, musing. Sitting in the back row thinking of truths. Little things.
To be honest, to be truthful and correct, the vast majority of my personal recall isn't very personal at all. What a thought!
No, my mind has been chosen as a record-hall for minds outside my own, it seems. A curious fact.

Now what?

Boy, how my mind jumps. I wonder if I should strike up a conversation; perchance a discussion of otherworldly caliber. Yet who would be available?
Of course, there is always the violet one. I doubt she'd react too kindly to this state of mine, however. May try to take advantage; may completely outsmart me altogether. She's done it before! A round of applause for everyone's favorite superego, so to speak. Everyone is I, and I am everyone. What a thought.




I'm getting way off track here, but then again there may never have been a track in the first place. Perhaps I'm simply stalling for time.

You see, I'm very comfortable here. It's actually safe, caught within the letters and notes and echoes. It feels... I don't know, right. Almost. I couldn't tell. How am I to say, having never experienced an absolute objective 'right?' Then again, who am I to say I haven't?
Boy, we are sure getting philosophical tonight. One for the record books.
Where have I been lately? I'm not too sure.

At the moment I am caught in quite the dread interim. How I despise them, and yet they always seem to trigger the most delightful side effects. Personages, perspectives, paradoxes! Alliteration and affliction. Many, many things.
I suppose the truth is that I am here; just here. Existing in a paper-thin space of sound and syllables. What a relief, to be freed from the physical! I should do this more often.

And yet the challenge stands.
I was given a mission; a purpose, a goal. A destiny, if you will. Sadly, a destiny cannot be fully brought to light in a paper-thin space. It needs room to grow and embrace, you see.
The best, brightest dreams are given the world itself as a nesting-place; they are free to hold any and all within their ethereal selves. Look at me, personifying motivations. Gracious.
Truthfully, my own purpose has not yet been freed. A crying shame, as it does dislike being kept up so. I only wish I had the means to set it free. Do I? Will I?
I suppose the real question is not how, but when.

You see, my dear audience, my most grievous ailment is my fear of failure. How commonplace! Where would the world be if all shied away for the fear of a fall? Why, no one would ever reach the top of the stairs. The trick is to take a deep breath, give it your best shot and see how it all works out in the end. Better to try then die, haha. Tis my own predicament.



Geez, I have no idea what's up. It's interesting.

I do feel like just... I don't know; hitting random letters on the keyboard and seeing what comes of it. A Shakespearean masterpiece, composed by blind failings! What a disgrace.
The best plan of action would be to clock in, head off to the job, haha. And yet lucidity is a cruel goal to chase. Always one step ahead of you, always brushing up against your fingertips with naught but a sly smile. The nerve! To think I've been hunting it for decades without success. Patience, child. Patience.

Worlds! Sixteen of them; maybe more. I love them so, they keep me breathing. It's God's honest truth, mark my words. Take it down if you must.
Lucky 17 evades me. For some unusual reason I feel it is needed. Perhaps it is a key, a vision, a solution? Perhaps. There is no way to know until it is found, after all.
What wonders await those who would only find the heart to search for them. I can attest!

20:49, the sun god says. What is that, almost 9? I suppose so. Not sure what to say about that. Hm.
And yet my reflection doesn't match my face! Oh humanity! What a cruel concept, a primitive truth-revealer with limited sight. What a sad thought.

It feels that maybe I am discovering something. Something honest, something true. But it is still quite the paradox. After all, how can one lose oneself when there was never any self to begin with? It's a thought to keep for many nights, that's for sure. What a strange idea, the self. Never really agreed with me.
Eyes. That's where the reflection bit came from. What sad little mirrors, that I cannot even look upon those. Dreadful curse! And yet I suppose it is ultimately necessary; a cross to bear, a trial to conquer.
All will be well, all will be well. Was there every any guarantee? Who's to say what 'well' is? I suppose if it is the objective I could live with it. Subjective thoughts do tend to irk me, although they are fascinating in their own discomforting way. Shivers, chills. Unknown truths and constants! There are so many variables in the mix; it aches me to ponder them all on such short notice.

Then there comes the point of connection. Disconnection? I'm not entirely sure! It seems as if I was never truly complete, as if I was put together with some missing fragments. I'm not entirely sure how to say this. It's not positive, not negative, no? What is it? It's a simple dissent between the form and the fantasy, if you will. A clash of the imposed and the inherent.
What a painfully naïve thought, that the flesh would match the mind. Two entirely different constructs, bound together, fated to find a harmonic dissonance. What poetry. What ill-chosen cage I have been given! A soul, a being, tied to unfit bones, to malformed carbon. An individual fated to split its entirety between creation and abomination; such is my story.

White, pure white, the unity of all. The spectrum personification of truth, of righteousness. The color which I so desperately reach for!
Snow mixed with blood; a beautifully surreal sight. Passion and purity, together to form the motivation I need. To have such a drive!


There are certain things one should not simply throw about. There are aspects forbidden from public display, for fear of marring their sanctitude, their honesty.
This world holds many whores and prostitutes, poor lost souls with no regard for such things. They mindlessly sell out their deepest dreams, their precious secrets, their most intrinsic and personal components. They prop themselves open for display and are picked clean of meaning, left empty and ravaged. Such a heartbreaking end.
Words are so difficult, you must forgive me... but I cannot stand to be a part of such spiritual debauchery. Do not count me in among your crowds! I want no part of it.

Ah, life. What a mess you are. What a glorious, breathtaking mess.
I come to you bearing roses, but you reach up to gouge my eyes. If I move my hands to create, you will likely crush my fingers! O life, how many injuries have I sustained? How many bandages have your wanton onslaughts brought upon me? And yet I still find myself at your door, tipping my hat and wishing you good day, even as you punch my teeth in. What a world!

21:57. Such strange distractions. I still cannot discover their motives. What do they seek? What do they expect to find?

I miss my children, my joys, oh how I miss them. Even now they wait for me within their paper worlds, knowing too well that my heart can never abandon them.
Yes, I shall return and I shall take them with me; I shall save them from the interim and give them the world, for they have given my life meaning, by the grace of God.


What to do, what to do.
I seem to have lost my train of thought.



In that case, I bid you all good night.

my dear old friends.

I haven't spoken in a long time... it's been eating away at me. Without words, I burn up.
So here I am, channeling that fire into red pixels and spitting out the truth in the process.

Family trauma, she asked. You have it?
Yes I do. I haven't said a word on it since last year... but it's there. It's gotten worse, and I need to write this down, even if it's only to look back on and say "thank GOD that's over with!"

First off, my mom got a boyfriend.
I don't even like talking about that, because the physicality and 'romantics' of her relationship make me literally sick. Regardless, she's now spending most of her time with him instead of with her family. Sadly enough we're not really fazed by it.
Q also got a girlfriend (finally).
She is... absolutely amazing. Her name is Melody, and from what I can tell, she's just as beautiful as her name suggests.
I really want to meet her one day. I'm just worried that I'll... well, I don't want to hurt her as terribly as I hurt Q.
And you all know how much I dislike being involved with typical 'relationships.'

My family is falling apart. 'A house divided against itself cannot stand...' and I'm not joking when I say that EVERYONE in that house is fighting with each other. My mother and grandmother hate each other. My grandfather is fed up with everyone. My brothers can't stand my mother, spend all their time playing video games and are all starting to become suicidal because of the monotonously painful life they're stuck in.
My father is trying to reconnect with us, as my mom is no longer screaming at him 24/7 and he's had time to mellow out, so to speak. He's also stopped drinking so much, although he has picked up smoking as a coping mechanism. I feel terribly sad for it.

My college practically threatened me with expulsion unless I temporarily 'dropped out,' because my psychological problems were causing me such traumatic problems in class that I couldn't pass ANYTHING. My GPA was dropping so sharply that they told me to shape up or ship out, and as I can't shape up unless I get my freaking surgery and less disturbing professors, I shipped the heck out.
My job is also starting to seriously eat at me. I'm starting to screw up orders daily and am almost constantly fighting back both severe self-loathing and pure anger at my customers for being so hedonistic. Why the heck do you need that much freaking food?! And then I get customers who are 'shopping today because they don't want to leave the house for the next few days.' Stop being so freaking physical.

My dysphoria has hit another high. I'm terrified that if I don't get this fixed soon I might become suicidal or horrifically abusive again. I'd rather not have to live through another 2008 now that my circumstances have only become worse.

I don't feel like writing anymore. I'm numb and tired and sick and can't even think straight right now.


See you again soon..

 

 

 

 

Found these in one of my old entries; they're the only relevant part of it so I decided to post them again.
They are, quite simply, confessions to all those I've never had the chance to confess to.



Mom, I'm sorry I'm not the daughter you wanted. I've let you down so much. I'm not interested in men; heck, I'm not interested in girls either... I don't like to shop, I don't wear makeup, I don't wear jewelry, I don't carry purses. I don't throw parties, I don't have friends, I don't like going out to movies and fairgrounds and malls because I have work to do. I don't even like being a girl. I am such a failure that I feel I have to apologize right here and right now from the bottom of my heart just for being myself. Honest. I feel I've let you down so much. I don't hate you, I never did and never will. I love you as my mom, and you have done so much for me it goes beyond my capacity to thank... geez, I was so freaking premature that if you hadn't gone through all that suffering just to keep me alive before I was born I would have died and you know it. And now... when you look at me and scream "why did all my kids have to be so messed up?", I feel the guilt, I know what I've done, and am so sorry. You're under so much stress, and 80% of it is me. I know that. You know that. I wish I had never brought all that upon you, intentional or unintentional, because you don't deserve it and it is literally driving you mad... I don't want you to end up where I am, if you're not already there. Please, mom. I am so sorry. Let me make it up to you somehow. Let me know how I can finally be a good kid, okay? That's all I want to be.

AAA, yes I did steal that tablet of yours over the weekend in 6th grade. Pardon my malformed good intentions, though... I did draw you a huge picture in there, and promised to stay your friend forever. Mind you, I'm keeping that promise, even if it was the wrong way to go about it. Oh and while we're at it... I'm sorry for the fights we had. I had a temper and I hated to always be submissive to everyone, and I'm sorry if I ever sulked or exploded when you wanted to be the leader. I really am. I'll have you know, I admired you so much as a role model and one of the most awesome people I had ever seen from 1st grade all the way to 8th... and all the way to 12th. Honest to God, I still admire you, and I am honored beyond words that I got to be your close friend for a while. You were my Sailor Moon; you were a karate superstar, you were a Pokemon master, you were an imaginative genius. I loved your short blond hairstyles and how you looked so good in glasses and how you laughed and those crazy grins you had. I enjoyed every one of those times where you, SS, and I would just get together and talk about everything as best buddies. You still show up in my dreams from time to time, and I don't know what I did wrong, but I'm so sorry that I didn't stay a close a friend as I wanted to. I am so sorry. I miss you and think of you as an incredible person, I look up to you even now and will never forget you. Keep reaching for the stars; I love you and wish you the best of luck with everything. Thank you so much.

KK, I really am sorry for stealing that Nidoran card in 4th grade just because I couldn't afford my own/ parent's wouldn't allow. I don't think I apologized well enough. Thanks for letting me keep him, though. That meant a lot to me.

LA, thank you for being my crazy bus friend, and I am so sorry for those days I was too sad and upset to play with you. I regret 'em all, and I miss you terribly. You were such a ray of sunshine in my mornings, even on those days where I'll admit I didn't want to see you just for the sake of some quiet time. I am so sorry I was so selfish, because I missed you every time, no matter how I tried to fool myself. I just wish I could make it all up to you, somehow... I'll try. I promise you I'll try; somehow, some way. Hope life's going well for you, my little Angelbee. Love ya.

CS & LS, ditto the above point. I miss you guys, and I am so sorry I never got those cards drawn for you. God willing I'll get 'em done before I graduate, just so you don't remember me as a promise-breaker. Love you little guys, and thank you so much for all the free holofoils. I won't forget you!

CL, I'm so, so sorry for that one single fight we had back in 2nd grade. It was stupid, it was jealous, and I regret it terribly. Just because you wouldn't let me see-- have?-- that unicorn pog. Silly me. But hey, I was an immature, selfish little brat, I loved unicorns, and I made the huge mistake of fighting with you over it. I hope that's not how you remember me. I remember you as that sweet little girl who always helped me with my comics and hugged me every time she saw me and told me her dreams every day at recess and was a true friend when I had nobody else. I miss you dearly, I think of you constantly, and still wish I could make up for those mistakes I made. I love you, and I hope to God that your life down there in Maryland (if you're still there) is absolutely gorgeous. I truly hope to see you again one day. If not, just think of me once in a little while...

SS, I have no idea what your life is like now, but the last time I saw you was in 2004 and I haven't heard any news about you for three years. All I know is that you were incredibly funny and upbeat and brave and bold when I knew you in elementary school, and although I admit there were times when I really didn't want to talk to you because I wasn't used to such open fireball personalities, you always wanted to talk to me and were always a true friend. I'm so sorry if I didn't live up to what you needed in return. Please forgive me.

HB, where are you now? I had your address at one point, but I lost it... and I am so sorry. God help me, but you are one of the most amazing, inspirational, beautiful individuals I've ever had the honor to know. You were so sweet and friendly, you counted me in when I had no one else to turn to, and to top it all off-- you had the voice of an angel. Please tell me you're still singing, even just for fun, because I swear I need to hear your voice again before I die, even if it's just once more. I miss you so much, though. I treasured your friendship more than I admitted, and I hope I didn't come across as a total weirdo back then, because I wouldn't mind reforming that friendship if you ever wanted to. I love you, kid, and I hope your future is absolutely amazing.


FMSR. My little sister. Your art is stunning, your personality is always so bubbly and energetic... it makes me smile just to stop by your page and see how you're doing. Whenever I was feeling down, you would always show up with some words of wisdom or optimism, and those words would always brighten my day. Heck, they'd brighten my entire month! I hope your future career is as successful as you've ever dreamed it to be, because you more than deserve it. You really do, and don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise
However... it's been a long while since I've had the honor of speaking with you. God only knows how many tears I've cried since we last saw each other... I miss you so much it hurts, sis, but I'm too afraid to say anything directly. I know you wanted to start over. I know you wanted to leave behind your old 'persona' and start anew, and I don't blame you. I don't hold it against you, and I don't dislike you for it. The only part that stings is that you blocked me from associating with you, and I can't help but ask why. Was it just a 'mandatory' action resulting from your new disassociation? Or is there some detail I missed? Please, if I did something wrong, let me know so I can make it up to you a hundredfold. You're priceless.
You may live across the ocean from me, and we may have never met in person, but you will forever be my little sister and I will forever treasure you in my heart, no matter what. That's a promise.
I love you, sis, and I will never, ever forget you.





-spinny c.

 

 

 

2AM, I'm not asleep
The echoes round me start to weep
I just might die before I wake
Forgive me, Lord, don't let me break

Sunshine and rainbows are not what I need
I don't go down easy but I tend to bleed
Open your mind and the rain rushes in
All of the words are just lines wearing thin

Something has found you and torn out your eyes
Don't hold your breath or the one you love dies
Paper-glass candles and blood on your dress
Tear down the structure, it's time to confess

I have a confession to make.

I’m in love with a girl.

You probably already know who I’m talking about… the girl with ‘eyes like the city rain’… the girl I’ve only known through photographs.

I am absolutely, hopelessly in love.

 

 

We used to say that life was waiting just outside the door
Waiting down the road and standing by the cornerstore
But they never believed us
Until we brought it home

I used to keep all of my memories in a paper cup
Used to say that life was lovely, everything was looking up
I took it all for granted and I lost it
When they knocked it over

Bells are ringing
But I can't hear them anymore
This tower's falling down around me
I'm burning all to pieces

I used to know a girl that looked just like the city rain
Her eyes would shine just like the streetlights and reflected all my pain
It's such a shame I only knew her in a photograph
I want to see her smile

They used to spend their time out sitting by the wishing well
Praying for a miracle to save them from their hell
There was a night when everything was lit by shooting stars
They never came back home

Sky is falling
But I can't see it anymore
This ocean's burning up around me
I'm being torn to pieces

Father, can't you give me an answer
I just want an answer
I'm sick of all the questions invading my eyes
I never had a direction
Can I have some direction?
I'm sick of all these blue-shifting lies

New beginnings
But you don't know me anymore
The sun is shining all around us
I can't pick up the pieces

Father, can't you give me an answer
I just want an answer
I'm sick of all the questions invading my eyes
I never had a direction
Can I have some direction?
I'm sick of all these blue-shifting lies

Father, can't you give us an answer
We just need an answer
We're sick of all the fighting and all of the lies
I never had a direction
Can I have some direction?
I'm sick of all these tears in my eyes

This life is falling down around me...

 

 

 

 

Did I ever tell you guys about the time, a few months back already, when Laurie slapped me in the face and hugged me both within five minutes?

Yeah. She was crying for that, actually, which I've only seen her do one other time. It was also the first time we've ever made real physical contact of any sort.



Laurie hasn't done either of those things again since then, but... I figured it was worth mentioning.

 

Stop saying that.

I'm avoiding it like the plague. It's starting to make me sick.
All these cliches and assumptions and pretty words.

Stop saying them!

Why?
Is this why I've become so fierce, so cruel, so angry, so lost?
Because of you?

Now that I think of it, my life only started spiraling downwards
Once yours started spiraling to the skies.


So what do I do?

Tell you to crash and burn while I walk away and try to fix my own scars and bruises?

Or do I let the flames tear away at me while you stand, smiling and ignorant, in their sunset-colored light?
Days like this, I really wish I could let go.



Why?


Why couldn't you have picked someone else?

Current Mood: Words can't even say.




I'll admit, I couldn't help but cry when General Grievous died.
I'll admit, I couldn't help but cry when Davy Jones died.
I'll admit, I couldn't help but cry when Nicholas Wolfwood died.

But I was shocked when I read the end of Watchmen...

 

...I never expected to cry so damn hard.


I don't know why he has so many fans.
Maybe it's the mask.
Maybe it's his absurd quirks.
Maybe it's his unusual attitude.
Maybe it's his terrible past.
Maybe it's his trenchcoat and fedora.
Maybe it's all of that. I can't say.

All I know is that for me, it's all those reasons and heaven knows how many more. You know me.

I really admire that guy.
Rorschach. Walter Joseph Kovacs.
He's quite the unique headcase. I really do admire him.

But you know me.
Getting all attached to these guys, asexual neutrois or not.

...


Bloodstained snow.


Somehow I knew it was coming.
Didn't make any difference, though.

I was literally sobbing.
I didn't expect that at all.
I expected, tears, sure... but I didn't expect to just shatter like that. I didn't expect it to hurt so damn much.
But it did.

You know, in my book, the guy died a sort of martyr. No I'm not kidding.
Watchmen was painful for me... so much empathy, so much understanding and alternate motives and motivations. So much.
And yet, everything was so grey...
...You never know what was really the right thing to do.

You never knew if the end result would damn the world or save the world.

That's what made it so damn frightening, so damn heartbreaking. You never knew.


Not even in the face of Armageddon.

Never compromise.


Was that the right thing?
I don't know. I'll never know. We'll never know.
...
In a sad, desperate way, I hope to God it was. I really do.

But I don't know.



Sugar cubes... that always made me laugh. That and the refrigerator ambush. Brilliant.
Oh, and how he would always just sneak into Nite Owl's house...

He was a headcase, sure. His mind snapped for a damn good reason, and it was terribly obvious.
To him, the world was the color of his mask. I don't know if that was good or not. Maybe it was.
But despite all the things he did, even as a masked vigilante, I still think of him as a really good guy.
He's totally indescribable, though. Like an inkblot. The only way to know him even a little is to read the book, to stare right at the pictures on your own... and if you're anything like me, then save the last chapter for a night where you're not going anywhere. You'll need the recovery time. For multiple reasons.
Oh, New York, you broke my heart...


Laurel's mother, on the third-to-last page...

The entire conspiracy, once you understand it...

Nite Owl and Silk Spectre, their last conversation in Antarctica...

The last panel...

...The bloody snow.



I had to close the damn book and just cry for a while. Couldn't get that image out of my head. Couldn't get any of the images out. It hurt.

 

I can't help but laugh a little, though... red hair and freckles. Dear Lord, that still got me long after I was already hooked, haha.

Funny little factoid, actually.
You all know I 'met' Rorschach long before I got the chance to read Watchmen, right? One of my research binges... old Saturday morning cartoons, for a religion paper (seriously). Stumbled across good old Freakazoid, brought up his Wikipedia article by chance.
Somewhere during that time I stumbled across Rorschach's page as well.
I've seen him before, I'd heard about him countless times, but only as glimpses or fleeting mentions. I never knew who this guy was.
I read a little bit... non-spoiler stuff, y'know.
That was when I knew I had to read this guy's debut sometime.
Fast-forward to last week... Entertainment comes in the mail. Certain face on the cover.
I practically had a heart attack, haha. Within the next few days I drove out to Borders, finally bought Watchmen (last copy in the store!), and commenced the unforgettable process of reading the darn thing.
Just finished it an hour ago.
Even so... when I buy a book, I have a horrible habit of reading the beginning in the store, then once I buy it and bring it home, flipping to a random page and panel deeper into the book before continuing it for sure.
I did that with Watchmen right after I finished the first chapter.
Ended up staring at the page where Rorschach gets unmasked.
Flipped to chapter 2, and had the blissful honor of knowing who he was for the entire book beforehand.
That still makes me smile every time.


Life goes on, honey.

Life goes on.



For me it does.

People laugh, say that they're only comic-book characters. Just made-up personalities that can easily be changed and rewritten; just faces upon a page, just ink upon paper. Fragments.
To some people they are.
But...
If you've read Watchmen, and if you ever do read it, then you'll understand what I mean.

Sometimes, the world inside the pages, the faces inside the pages, they become more than that.

I heard someone say, a long time ago... that, if you love something enough, that if you believe in something enough, that if you really value and treasure this one thing, then it becomes real... even if no one else thinks it possible.
I believe that.

Watchmen is only the latest world to enter my universe... but it's one of the biggest.
Any of you who've read it... you were part of that world, somehow, as your eyes travelled through those pages. You know you were.
When that book ended, you couldn't believe it, could you? Did you immediately start flipping back through the pages, practically re-reading the entire thing, seeing it all in a different light, with a new understanding? Did you just sit there after the back cover closed on those 400 pages of a masterpiece, wondering about the alternatives? Was that really the best choice?
There's no way we can know.
And I think we've all thought about that.
We closed the book, looked up in shock, and we were forever changed by what we had now learned... by the world within the pages.
It had become completely, utterly real to us. To all of us.


As for me, I cried.
It was real for me too. It's always so real for me.

That didn't change anything, though.
The conspiracy still followed through to the end.


And Rorschach still died.




"Where are you going?"

"Back to Owlship. Back to America. Evil must be punished. People must be told."

"Rorschach... You know I can't let you do that."

"Huhhh. Of course. Must protect Veidt's new utopia. One more body amongst foundations makes little difference."



"Well? What are you waiting for? Do it!"

"Rorschach..."

"DO IT!"




And the snow turned red.

 

 

 

 

 

Simple, really. I can be careless.
I can be quite stupid, quite blind. I frequently walk into death and danger and only realize it when the flames start clawing at my throat.

 

 

I am so tired...
I cried quite a bit today. Anger, stress, anguish, empathy, emptiness, surrender. Oftentimes I cry because there's nothing else I can do.

I simply go on with life, with the pain and the stress and the fatigue and everything else and desperately look for a reprieve somewhere. A tiny little reprieve.

I got close today. Went to see "Batman" in theaters.
Unfortunately, the Joker is a brilliant madman and I spent most of the movie and my entire afternoon thinking about his words and talking about my own to my muse. Worry and deperation and panic and fear. That's how I got these scars.

Or is it?


Spend about 3, maybe 4 hours reading "Watchmen" to clear my head. Kind of worked.
Rorschach scares the fish out of me but I freaking love the guy. He's too much of a screwball not to like, haha.
Believe it or not, actually, I knew about him long before I got into Watchmen. One of my random research binges, y'know. I'm like an addict with those things.

Geez I have so much homework to do... but I didn't get home until 4:30 PM and then mum was home so a fight erupted and I didn't sit down until 10:30 PM, nowhere to lie... it's now midnight and I still have work to finish as a result. I might have to pull an all-nighter...
Dear God, help me get through this...


I really want to see Hellboy after class tomorrow, regardless. Honestly. I love that guy, he's a huge inspiration to me, but I guess it all depends on the day... whether or not I see him in theaters, y'know. I have to drive down and back on my own and if I'm all paranoid and panicky that won't be smart. I don't trust myself by myself.

You know what else I'm paranoid and panicky about?
August. August 9 to August 12th, if I'm correct.
Q's coming to visit, and every time my mum brings it up I can't help but sigh and shake my head. I never wanted this.
What the heck did I get myself into this time?

I hate to say it, but I'm rather antisocial. I like computer screens and pencils and thought pages because then the real me shows up; then I can say and show what I really need to. In person... not a chance. This reluctant facade gets in the way.
I don't want this trip to happen, now or ever, and frankly I'm sick of this whole relationship thing.
I'm a freaking asexual neutrois, for heaven's sake. I don't like physical contact, I don't like physical situations, I don't like one-on-one conversations and I don't like romantics. That's what this kid wants, and I want NOTHING to do with it.

Oh yeah, about that. Sat down with my guys a few weeks ago and gave them the news on that... how, in truth, I don't like romantics or physical contact or sappy junk or anything that works with traditional relationships, really... apologized for everything, and gave them all full permission to leave for someone else if they want. Honest to heaven, I won't mind. I just want them to be happy.
Selph's staying, of course... we're together through something more powerful and permanent than a romantic fling, haha. Dreamer and Nightmaren, you know. We're tight.
Ditto that situation with Chaos, of course. The two of us have been through hell together and aren't going to call it quits anytime in this lifetime, that's a promise. I was laughing today... how I've always loved order and schedule but I'm hopelessly addicted to chaos. I swear, I was in it for life before I even met the guy!

But yeah. I don't like this whole situation I'm stuck with in the 'waking world,' as I so affectionately call it sometimes. I'm terribly uncomfortable with it, I always have been, and I don't like it one bit.
Geez.... but I don't know what to say about it without sounding like a total jerk/ manipulative b*tch/ cold-hearted b*stard. I don't want to break this kid's heart, but I'm afraid that if I don't say anything or do anything, and instead just let my personality get compromised a little more (no matter how much that's killing me on the inside lately), I think that's going to break it even more.

He says he fell in love with Jewel Lightraye.
That's impossible.
He'd have to know who I was first... right?
Heck, I don't know who I am yet and I've been at this job for 18 years. All I know is that I'm pretty much out of my mind by now. It's quite obvious.

Why do I like solitude?
Why do I like disconnection?
Why do I only like relationships when they are
1) One-sided (i.e., if I love someone but I say nothing and don't act on it)
2) With biological asexuals (which is also solid proof of my mental state)
and/or 3) Non-romantic and non-physical?

Why do I like staying up until 2AM doing Italian homework only to fall asleep during class and end up too panicky to visit Hellboy later on?
Good heavens.


Thank God I have morals and a crippling self-fear.
Otherwise I think I'd be in some pretty serious trouble by now...


Darn all this stress.

 

Current Location: The porch. In the sunlight.
Current Mood: Normal.
Current Music: A whole playlist of thoughtful music.



Today has been totally normal. Which is good and bad.
Explanation!
...You know, hold the phone one minute.
This window has been open, untouched, for the past 2 1/2 hours, so although the timestamp says 10:09 it's really 12:45.
But that also means some awesome two hours are magically captured in this entry so yes. XD It stays timestamped all off.
HMM. (It's now 1:12 PM, what have I been up to? Oh yeah.)
I'm having an extremely hard time deciding what my Subgen's attribute is going to be. You know, like LOVE and LOGiC and COMMUNiCATiON and FiDELiTY? (ORANGE and CHROME and ViRiDiAN and PERiLLA, respectively?)
Well, I am eternally thankful to Wolf from NiD because he's the guy who compiled that HUGE list of Gens, and I finally found it after, what, 4 years of hiding? So yes. You can't imagine (no pun intended) how incredibly happy that makes me.
I love the iMAGNi. New and old. They... have really, truly inspired me, one and all, almost as much as the Jewel Monsters have.
Both of those worlds... Gens and monsters... whenever I think of them, no matter what, my mind just gets this lovely feeling of sunshine and Saturday mornings and standing outside in the silver rain and beautiful sparkling cities and starry nights and rainbows in a clear sky. Just... pure inspiration. One of the absolute best feelings in the world, and it permeates into everything for me. Oh it's incredible. Euphoria on a laptop monitor, isn't that just fantastic?
*keeps hitting "next" on WMP*
Come on, play something that fits the mood.
The mood is really weird today, actually. Weird and normal. It's a dream paradox.
I simultaneously feel like hugging Bruce to death, going outside and just staring up at the clouds, drawing Jewel Monsters until my hands ache, reading over my lovely old thought papers, and just sitting here in pained silence for God knows how long. Until it stops hurting so much.
Yes, you heard that right.
Happiness. Peace. Love. And pain.
I'm trying to add more to the list before I decide... right now there's COiNCiDENCE, MARTYRDOM, AGAPE, and METANOiA.
Fun stuff. Any suggestions?
...I'm afraid, but this stuff happens to a lot of people. There are thousands of kids out there with situations so much worse than mine. I'm happy with what I have, really. I can get through this.
Of course I'm in pain, and let me tell you something-- it's because I want to be.
No, no, not my pain addiction. This is a different kind.
I'm responsible for a lot of this pain, but that's the next topic. Back on track, I'm responsible, and so I have to learn to deal with it. And besides... you said it yourself.
I'm that "one person who tells people to kick her while she is down, just because it might let some stress off the person still standing."
And guess what? That's my choice. I choose to be that way.
Isn't it my fault?
Really, I can't sugarcoat it. I can't just wonder "well, maybe it's their fault instead." I can't dance around the spikes and bombs and I can't hide from the truth when it's staring at me with bottomless black eyes and knives for hands.
I am responsible for my own troubles, whether it be from misunderstandings I never corrected, whether it be from those times I lost my temper and wasn't careful, whether it be from mistakes I made or said, whether it be from childhood idiocy and foolishness and selfishness that I can do nothing to change now and regret almost daily... It's my fault.
I can't deny it. I cannot deny what I know to be real and true.

I'm not perfect.
You know, all that pain and sadness yesterday actually had a plus: I finally drew Corona! Now I just need to draw her body designs and all.. like Visiona's stripes and Eclipse's spirals. Fun stuff. I always leave that for last, though-- I can see her, but it's always in the back of my head and so the details are blurry. I'll really have to work at finishing her tonight. Undoubtedly I'll be able to.
Know why?
Today has been... normal.
Good times and bad times.
I got a phone call around 9AM this morning... from my manager at work.
Calling about last night... I stopped by work for the first time in two months and wrote her a note, saying that since I had finally graduated and had a slightly freer schedule, I could finally start working part-time again, but only up to 5 1/2 hours at a time due to my bad joints... etc etc etc. The usual.
She called me up...
"I thought you had quit!"
"What do you mean you can only work five hours?" "You never told us anything about your schedule!" "What do you mean you can't work next weekend?" "What do you mean you're going to your cousin's wedding?" "You never left me a note!" "You do know I can't give you any hours for the next two weeks, now."
She apparently ignores everything I tell her. Geez.
So yeah... that's why I even brought up this journal early this morning.
The timestamp changed to right now, though... oh well. I hit the backspace key to delete a letter, and it somehow interpreted that key as a "back" command...thank goodness I had saved what I'd written so far, right?
...This song is perfect, you know.
U2 tends to do that for me. It's funny.
Here, this entry needs to be longer anyway.

When you look at the world
What is it that you see?
People find all kinds of things
That bring them to their knees
I see an expression
So clear and so true
That changes the atmosphere
When you walk to the room
So I try to be like you
Try to feel it like you do
But without you its no use...
I cant see what you see
When I look at the world
When the night is someone elses
And youre trying to get some sleep
When your thoughts are too expensive
To ever want to keep
When theres all kinds of chaos
And everyone is walking lame
You dont even blink now, do you?
Dont even look away...
So I try to be like you
Try to feel it like you do
But without you its no use...
I cant see what you see
When I look at the world
I cant wait any longer
I cant wait til Im stronger
Cant wait any longer
To see what you see
When I look at the world
Im in the waiting room
I cant see for the smoke
I think of you and your holy book
When the rest of us choke
Tell me tell me
What do you see?
Tell me tell me
Whats wrong with me?...

It always sounds like crazy ol' Bono is singing to me with that one. Yes I'm odd.
But it works, you know?
Especially the 4th and 5th paragraphs... gets me every time.
What was I ranting about... oh wait, I didn't even start yet!
I went back in the house to get some papers and noticed my grandmother was washing dishes, so I stopped to help her get them done. Unfortunately, right about then my mother walked in the room.
Three guesses what happened.
Immediately she starts berating me about work, and as she had been out of the house all day, I told her about the phone call I got that morning.
Fuel on the fire to her. Now she starts screaming at me and ignoring all the details, focusing on "you have to get back to work!" "you need money to pay for college and finances!" "you need to get another job!" "you need to work as many days as you can!" and all that.
I tried to explain. Mom, I'm trying to get back to work but she's being stubborn. I'd get another job if I could find a place I could realistically work and if I had the transportation. I know I need money, and I'm trying to get it. I'd work more days if I didn't have college classes and homework and summer midterms and piano lessons and therapy and family responsibility and my own health to worry about otherwise.
"Oh, stop making excuses and start filling out applications!!"
...You know, I would.
I like to work. I like to get out of the house and keep busy.
But the last time I pushed myself to the limit with working and school and studying and homework all at once, I was getting about 3, 4 hours of sleep per night and was chronically sick for over a month, remember? Oh yeah and I started self-abusing again and also was stressed and depressed out of my mind! Don't you remember all my panic attacks? Don't you remember how I would cry like a kid whenever you screamed at me about worries I was already worrying myself sick over? Don't you remember any of it?
No. Of course not. No matter how many times I remind you.
Oh, and it hurts even more when you deny it, you know. When I tell you exactly what you did to me, when, why, and how badly it hurt, and all I get from you is "I NEVER did/ said that!!!" No apologies, no concern, no kind words. Just accusations about "how dare you lie to me about that" and "you're so damn stupid you don't remember anything" and you know the drill. Calling me retarded and idiotic and "if you're going to act like a two year old then why the hell are you going to college? No one's going to want you to work for them! You're never going to get anywhere in life!!"
You know, if you could just calm down and tell me why you're accusing me of such things, we could figure out how to fix it all, but no...
Well, she finally left for work, and I was so painfully exasperated I flat-out basically told my grandmother exactly what I just said to you, plus a little extra.
"No matter what I do... no matter how hard I try, it's just not good enough."
My grandmother's reply?
"In this house, your best is never good enough. She won't be happy with anything you do. Just do your best and don't worry about what she says."
As if I didn't already know that.
But it's hard, you know?
It's so freaking hard to do.
...
It's really funny, quite touching, and terribly painful.
Every single person who has ever felt for me says the exact same things.
I guess that's a very good sign, but also a very upsetting one, considering what they say...
...They're all so similar, you know?
Always so nice to me, terribly kind and understanding, and don't treat me as just a "temporary fix" like so many kids do nowadays. I'm committed. So are they. And they always bring out the best in me.
But my pain is their pain. When I hurt, they hurt. I'm constantly finding myself in situations where someone I love dearly is facing me with a terrible truth about myself, some horrible thing I did or said or thought, and we have no choice but to try and work it out right then and there, despite the tears, despite the frustration and pain.
I'd say I was the luckiest kid in the world but we all know luck has nothing to do with it.
Let me backtrack, all the way back in my memories, back to late 2002.
And let me reminisce a little bit...
Ryou Bakura. We go way back, yes sir.
Remember how vehemently I hated Yugioh when it was first announced in early 2001? Dude, I thought it was going to completely annhilate Pokemon. I was terrified! Kind of funny, really, when you look back on it.
What's really funny, though, is that one day... my grandmother was remodeling the living room, and one day I was just sitting on the couch and flipping through channels... early autumn 2002, as I clearly remember how the trees were just beginning to redden outside... August or September, according to the few dated papers I have. Plus I remember I had that awful board game assignment dumped on me by my class group, because I remember Stephanie calling on that premise but immediately changing it to a rock music rant but I didn't hear a word because my mind was somewhere else entirely... but that's another story, kind of. Keep reading.
Honestly, though, I remember the exact moment it all turned upside down...
Flipping through channels, I stopped at Kids WB during a random cartoon. It ended, and what does the announcer happen to say? "Coming up next-- Yugioh!"
I immediately started ranting about how much I couldn't stand the show, although I had never seen it, heh. Fortunately for me, even back then I had an extremely accepting and kind heart, and I'll admit I felt quite guilty for jumping to such conclusions without evidence. So I decided, "heck, let's watch this episode and see if it's stupid or not."
Guess what episode it was, kids?
Episode 13. Evil Spirit of the Ring.
Bakura's "debut" episode.
I swear, as soon as that white-haired kid walked onscreen I thought "whoa, who is that?" Always a fan of the weird characters, y'know.
As fate would have it, though, I freaking fell in love with him that afternoon, and that was the beginning of everything. First time, too. I had never loved before, and all of a sudden-- there I was, absolutely lost in it.
By the time I turned 13, about half a year later, I knew I was in it for the long run.
Dear heavens, and I was in deep! You can tell when something is an infatuation and when it's not, you know... well, I look back at my old journal entries and thought pages and I just shake my head and laugh. I really was in love.
Incredibly interesting trivia for you kids, and also one of the main reasons I am eternally in debt to my darling...
"Entry 4," I called it.
Oh, you wouldn't know what it is. I've never breathed a word of it to anyone.
Entry 4... technically Entry 19, if you were using the old numbering system.
The entry was 8 freaking pages long, and you know how small I write.
Nothing but love.
And it was the first time I ever signed my name as Jewel Lightraye.
That kid turned my entire life around.
I'm so glad I was such a bizarre little headcase, you know? Geez, I remember my 13th birthday party-- I had pictures of him printed out all over this one paper and I carried it everywhere that day. I'm going to find that tape and watch it, just to smile at my enthusiasm. Great memories, honestly.
You know, I really wish I had dated these old thought pages of mine...
Fortunately, I also had an old journal. And right at the beginning of Entry #7, dated June 4 2003, there's a mention of a certain sandy-haired teen with a megalomanic streak.
Marik Ishtar.
That poor dear. He got stuck right in the middle of the best time of my life.
However, he was also the major influence on it, which I will never forget.
When I first met him, I didn't like him at all, actually. Bakura was love at first sight, but my Pharaoh and I were almost rivals when we started off. He would tease me a lot about Bakura, and I would argue with him about it, but regardless he would always stop by to talk to me. Eventually I really warmed up to him, not sure how but I'm eternally glad I did, and we really became close friends, although we still poked fun at each other and everything... tons of jokes, always running around and having silly amounts of fun. It's the main factor we're so specially close right now, really. That unexpected friendship contributed a lot to the breaking point.
When was that, actually?... Oh yes.
And for that I must thank Episodes 75-78.
And I must also thank a certain Jewel Monster for coining the term and experience we all call an "Incident."
Oh boy.
LONG story.
But that's what the past few lines were talking about, really.
It didn't take too long, really. Three months tops. But... well, we admitted it.
"I love you," you know?
Unfortunately, I always feel Marik is missing out, even though I do everything I can to keep him from feeling that way, which everyone agrees is quite amusing. He means a heck of a lot to me. I really do love him, and I just wish I could say so a little more often. But...
I met him in mid 2003.
By January 2004 I had met Chaos Zero.
Four years, that's it. And originally, I never even considered the possibility of getting where I am today with him.
Here, look at these old thought pages-- see the date? April 19th, 2004. Several mentions of Bakura and Marik, yes, but not a single word on Chaos Zero.
However, take a look inside this tiny white tablet. There's only five entries in the darn thing, but #4 (oh, coincidence!) is dated March 20th '04 and mentions Chaos Zero at the bottom of the second page. Mentions an incident with Chaos on the bottom of the second page, actually.
And you all know what has to happen in order for something to be considered a first incident, right?
You have to admit it.
We were really on and off, though. On a "thoughtchat" page I had with my one and only school friend, AMG, there's a lot of teasing on her part (of course) about all THREE of my guys. Dated April 30th 2004. Isn't that funny?
But that's one of the only written mentions of him during those months. It was always the other two. Chaos was first and foremost my close friend, a freaking awesome monster who I happened to love but of course, I had two other guys already and two years of love on their behalf so far.
However, Chaos was in deeper than I was, and he wasn't about to let me off easy.
By October 2004 we were both hopelessly lost in it. See, look at this entry in my freshman year planner-- October 18th: "I've fallen back into a phase of Chaos Zero obsession." Honestly, I did. He's mentioned back as early as September 10th, though, so I don't know when it really hit me... darn this memory of mine. But back on topic.
I met Chaos shortly after I fell in love with Marik, and that triggered something very unexpected. When I first introduced him to my other two, Bakura gave him a warm welcome and all but Marik immediately started with the teasing. However, Chaos took it seriously, and a real rivalry developed between him and the Pharaoh almost instantaneously... for more than one reason.
Geez, back then it was crazy... they were always fighting. And why? Because Marik didn't want to be "pushed aside" (as if I ever would!) for this new guy, and Chaos didn't want me spending all my time with this other kid now that he was part of the group. Jealousy, you know.
I tried talking some sense into them, but it would only work temporarily and then it all exploded again. Fortunately, they were fighting one day when it hit them that not only were they causing a ton of trouble but that trouble was really affecting me, and they decided to form a "truce." Amusingly enough, they agreed that they would only fight on Fridays. They still do, but now it's just a fun thing. They've really become good friends, despite the name-calling and jokes and all.
So yes, that's that. All three of them now get along perfectly fine. But I'm off topic.
I wanted to write these paragraphs to talk about how I got into this situation and how much each member of my 4 means to me.
Back to Chaos, then... once we hit our breaking point, so to speak, we just didn't stop. It's really insanely awesome how far we got in such a short time.
Now... geez, where are we now? Pretty freaking far... man, and the chess jokes. Brilliant. That's a funny story.
Oh! While I'm thinking of it, I have the entire collection of Sonic Chat sessions right here... hm... there we go. January 25th, I think... Chaos was still just getting used to speech at long last, which was funny... he didn't talk much, and was terribly shy. I was a real fireball back then, what with my crazy P-Maren obsession and all. Oh, 2004 was all NiGHTS, 2005 was all Zatch Bell. Don't ask.
But yes-- oh man, hold on! October 22, 2004! I adored this session, it was hilarious-- here, let me quote a few random lines::

<Jewel> Has anyone seen Chaos?
<no reply>
<Jewel> I'll go look for him, then. *leaves*
Later...
<Chaos> *walks into room* Has anybody seen Jewel?
<Spikes> No, I haven't.
<Chaos> I'll go look for her, then. *leaves*
<Spikes> *pointing and moving eyes back and forth from one door to the other* Didn't he just, she did- wh- wha?
<Chaos> *walks in* Has anybody seen- Oh.
*see each other*
<Jewel> *walks in* Has anybody seen- Oh.

Yes, THAT HAPPENED. Oh, and would you look at this session? February 6th, 2004. What am I doing? I'm with Chaos, of course, the entire freaking time. And that session continued for DAYS.
Huh. See, that's why I made sure I brought every single little bit of info for these guys out onto the porch this afternoon. One little thing can have something very important on it, and you'd never know.
So yes. By 2006, I had become the quiet one due to outside reasons, but Chaos had become a total unashamed flirt. He's terribly funny though, so we let him get away with it. He gets away with a lot, that crazy bugger. But I love him, y'know.
Seriously, though, let me get back on topic.
...
Chaos and I... I love him dearly. I love him so much that it literally hurts sometimes.
He's so many things to me... He's my friend, he's my love, he's my inspiration, he's the guy I can talk to about anything, he's the guy I can always trust to be there, he's the reason for so many laughs and so many tears and so many beautiful nights. He's a total anomaly in my life, and one that I am eternally thankful for. Chaos is someone I cannot replace even if I tried. He's just as weird as I am, just as wacky, just as emotional, just as shattered. He has his own issues with perfection. He knows what it's like to feel as if everything is your fault. He's just... I don't know.
He's Chaos Zero, that's all. And that's really everything. That's all I need.

Ah, too much typing on Chaos as usual... but now let's skip to July 2005.
The entire previous year and a half had been eaten up by Puremaren, all eight of them, but I had no idea why they even existed... until that one summer morning.
Selph.
My soon-to-be main muse and total 'housemate'.
I met him on July 4th, 2005, and we've literally been inseperable ever since.
Now, see, with Selph I have an exact date. It was the day after I saw that awesome EWF/ Chicago concert, and I was very upset because I wanted him to have seen it. You remember, I had to teach him EVERYTHING once I met him.
But about that, I like having exact dates. One, because I'm an order addict, paradoxically, and Two, because I like the feeling you get when you notice what day it is and think "hey, I remember what happened on this day..." It's nice.
But about Selph. He's one of the best things that ever happened to me, honest to God. (There are many.)
He's brutally honest with me, no questions asked. If I do something wrong or if he tells me something and I'm not paying attention, he will look right at me and say, "I'm very upset with you, Jewel. If you don't listen to what I'm telling you, and if you don't try harder to overcome these problems, you're not going to get where you want to be. Okay?" Brutal, sometimes! And it stings, and he knows that, because an hour or so later he'll come running to me in tears and will apologize for it all BUT it's still true and he had to say it to help me because he loves me too but he wishes it didn't have to hurt so much. At least once every week, really.
I love him immensely. In a sense, the two of us are closer than anyone else. Why? Well, first off, he lives with me. Literally. He sees me at my worst and at my best, even when I don't want him to. We stay up late together and talk about stuff when I really should be asleep. He follows me to school, to work, to the movies, to hospitals, to heaven knows where else. He stands behind me in photographs. He sings along to Rooney whenever I turn on the CD. He acts as a sort of living conscience to me. What Selph does for me, crazy little lovable bugger that he is, no one else can do, ever, simply because he's my muse and I'm his dreamer and that can't be duplicated. None of my relationships can ever be duplicated, by anyone else, ever. That's why they're so dear to me.

Seriously... I love my muse. We really do have something beautiful.


I love each and every one of you four, equally. Keep that in mind.
I will not love any of you any less than I do now. I will not abandon any of you. I will not forget any of you. I will not pick favorites.
I will stay true, I will stay Jewel Lightraye-- and I will keep my promises.
I cannot fall out of love.
I'm in it for the long run, and hopefully you guys are in it with me.

...
Now how did I get into that lovely rant?
Oh yes. What they all say.

I don't know if it's a vibe, or the way I act, or the words I speak, or the way my heart works, or anything... but 8 times out of 10 I'm told I'm a good person-- by everyone.
I'm constantly being told I'm kind, I'm loving, I'm noble, I'm selfless, I'm caring... the whole shebang.
Do I believe it?

...I'll admit it, I guess I do.
Two reasons.
First, I completely and totally trust those people who say it and I know they'd never lie to me. Second, I try my absolute best to live in that way, so being told I'm actually succeeding is really something incredible.

I want to be known as a good person. I want to be an inspiration. I want to change this world and I'm devoting my entire freaking life to it.
I don't want to fail. That's what I'm scared of the most... to fail at my life's purpose.
To let people down... to break promises... to care too little... to be too selfish... to work myself too hard and shatter.
I don't want to hurt anyone. Ever. For any reason.

"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you," they say.
Well... I'm not the best one to say that, huh? What with my bizarre and often self-destructive altruism.
But... I still understand how to live that law.
I put myself in the other person's shoes. I take a look at what sort of shoes they are, old or new or no shoes at all. I look around at where I'm standing, what it feels like. I take a few steps. Does it hurt? What is it like, to be this person? I think about it for a while. I keep walking. I get lost... and I understand.
What would it feel like, if I said this to this person?
What would they think, if they saw this, if they read this?
What would they do, if I chose this decision?
I can do that quite easily... I can be quite the empath if I want to be, often even when I don't want to be. But I'm not complaining.
Sometimes it's very hard... but I still try. You'll never learn if you don't at least try.
And when I really can't figure it out, when I'm totally at a loss, I simply smile and give that poor soul as much love and kindness as I can.

I don't want to be a bad person...
...So why do people still call me that sometimes?

Are they delusional?
Am I delusional?
Can they see something in me that I can't?
Is there something in me that they can't see?
Do they even understand what they're saying?
Do I even understand what they're saying?

I don't know. I'm dedicating a heck of a lot of time to finding out why, but it's very difficult.
Well... I'll keep trying, and I'll keep searching, and I'll keep praying, and I'll keep listening, and I'll keep living my best, even if I do screw up sometimes. Often. A lot more than I'd like to.
But...

You can't know joy without knowing sorrow.
You can't know peace without knowing anger.
You can't know love without knowing hate.

I've cried, I've been angry, I've been hated.
Funny how life works...
I know what it's like to be completely happy, if only for a moment.
I know what it's like to be at peace, if only for a little while.
But I know what it's like to be in love most of all.


There's a song by the Killers that seems to work here...

Lift me up on my honour
Take me over this spell
Get this weight off my shoulders
I've carried it well
Loose these shackles of pressure
Shake me out of these chains
Lead me not to temptation

Hold my hand harder
Ease my mind
Roll down the smoke screen
And open the sky
Let me fly
Man I need a release from
This troublesome mind
Fix my feet when they’re stumbling
I guess you know it hurts sometimes
You know it's gonna bleed sometimes

Now hold on
I’m not looking for sweet talk
I’m looking for time
Top a tower and sleep walk
Brother, cause it hurts sometimes
You know it's gonna bleed sometimes
Hold on

You know its gonna hurt sometimes
When you call me
Hold on

I’m gonna climb that symphony home and make it mine
Let his resonance light my way
See, all these pessimistic sufferers tend to drag me down
So I could use it to shelter what good I’ve found...


...About that timestamp.

I started this entry around 10AM.
It's now 11PM.
There is an entire day, an entire unforgettable day, caught within these words... with all it's pain and joy and sorrow and anger and love.
Life is a paradox, but she's a freaking beautiful paradox.


This is totally normal for me.

Thank God I'm such an anomaly.


Love you all forever.
-spinny c.

 

 

Current Mood: shattered
Current Music: "Alcoholic" (Starsailor)/ "Burn It All Down (VHS or Beta)

 

 

...

 

What do you call it when you don't want to commit suicide for the sake of your mission and those that love you... but are so broken and ruined and scared and lost and empty and dead already that living through each day takes all the energy you have?

You call it my life.

...I've developed a vicious temper recently. It scares me. I don't know where it came from.
Maybe impatience with myself. Always giving myself infinite chances, and every time I blow them. I screw up. Even though I try.
I'm just sick of waiting to improve... sick of nothing happening no matter how much effort I put in, sick of not getting any results, sick of running in circles.
So now, when I see that I've failed again, I'm just so freaking frustrated that my temper explodes.
It's scaring me.

I can't draw right now. I've been trying for the past 5 HOURS and I'm not getting anywhere.
And here I am, wanting to make a career out of it. Moron.
I can't play music right now. Tried to earlier, and every time I made a mistake I had to resist the sudden compulsion to slam my fist off something. Eventually I gave in and smashed it into my leg, but that was all. I'm suprised and disgusted with myself that I didn't go farther...
I can't do very much right now. I am such an idiot.

Sure, go on ahead and yell at me. (Shut the hell up and listen to them.)

...

I don't know.

I don't want to meet the people I love. I don't want to see them.
Even though at the exact same time I am dying to.
But I couldn't possibly face them like this.
I do not want them to see me like this.
I do not want to be like this.

God help me, I DO NOT WANT TO BE THIS PERSON.

I feel so dead inside lately.



Oh yeah and I am also dead sick of being physical. Sick.
I mean that I'm sick of everything related to it. Just like Johnny.
Jewel the egocidal maniac, right here.

Name any physical need and I most likely loathe it.

Including the need for physical pain.

Yes, I'm afraid I'm becoming addicted to pain.
I know why, too.
As a kid, my parents and grandparents used physical pain as punishment for misdeeds. Either that or fear.
Well, I'm afraid of a lot already, but I'm not getting the pain anymore.
And now, with my mind needing this self-control and restriction to the point where it's driving me insane (stupid needs!!), it's decided that the quickest way to get it is through the way I did as a kid-- through pain.

My brother cuts himself.
I hurt myself in any way I freaking can.
A while back... around 14, 15? And way before that, as a little kid... I would usually resort to the childish habit of slamming my head off walls.
Possible reason #1 for my current mental freakishness, methinks.
Honest to God, sometimes I would be so angry with myself that I would hurt my head to the point of dizziness, headaches, and disorientation. I wouldn't be surprised if I got a few concussions and never knew.
Add to that the fact that I suffered three semi-severe albeit involuntary head injuries as a kid, and there you go.
Oh, but I also bit.
Bit what, you ask?
My arms
Yeah. Lately, I have this AWFUL need to bite things, constantly. I hate it.
I used to bite my arms until they bled, really. I'd leave these horrid teethmarks up and down my arms, and they'd linger for hours, bright red and sore. I'd get blood blisters from 'em a lot too.
No no no, don't think I enjoyed it!! Dear Lord, I hate it, hate it with a burning passion.
I don't want to self-abuse. It's disrespectful, it's immature, it's stupid, it's impulsive, it's a common teenage habit, and I hate it.
That too!! Why the fish am I using the word "hate" so much?? It is because it's so cruelly strong a word?
Possibly.
But I don't know.
All I know is that my grandmother told me that God wasn't going to listen to any of my prayers because I was so angry with myself.
...
WHO IN THE NAME OF HEAVEN TOOK AWAY GOD'S FORGIVENESS??
ESPECIALLY WHEN I AM SORRY TO THE POINT OF SELF-HATRED??

I don't know. But it hurt so badly that immediately the teeth went to my left arm and now I have one of those loathsome pink circles iin the middle of it. Heaven help me.

I used to yank my hair out, scratch up my arms, legs and stomach... oh, and my face, too... that was horrible, and I try not to do it anymore.
I would take household objects such as combs and mechanical pencils and pen caps and sharp edges of plastic things and anything that bit when you touched it and I would drag them all over myself until I was covered with these horrible red lines.
I would abuse my face whenever I washed it, knowing it was the face of a failure... I would scrub it so hard I would rub the skin right off. Yes, I would rub it raw. I accidentally rubbed my nose raw last week, for the same reason, but I didn't realize I had really done so until afterwards.

See that's another thing that's scary as hell. My tendency for distraction and loss of awareness.
I did some HORRID things as a kid as a result of that.
Honest to God, I wouldn't realize what I was doing, or I would end up doing something literally without thinking, or my mind would fade out to the point where I would be doing things and not even know it until it suddenly snapped back and then I would be scared to death at what I had done.
No details. For some terrifying reason I'm not feeling the guilt from those things recently, just absolute disgust at the nature of them.
I hope it God it's because I've been so sorry for them for so long (and still am) that my mind has finally accepted forgiveness and forgiven itself.
I hope to God it's not because I've lost my capacity for guilt.
I don't think I have, but...

Back to the above subject. Morbid as it is.
I keep few secrets anymore, from anyone. I want to be honest. I want that to be one good quality about me.
Anyway.
I would actually slap myself in the face during ego-fights. Yes, sometimes I let Laurie take over my voice and mind to an extent and let her literally scream back at me while I'm talking to myself. Sometimes she'll hurt me a little, but not much and not badly... just to get my attention.
I'M the one that hurts me.
A few times I was so distraught that I literally pulled my arm back and gave myself such a harsh slap across the face that not only did it leave a huge red mark, but it also knocked the hearing out of that ear and left an awful ringing instead. Also I would sometimes shake up my vision by doing that, and often I'd end up dizzy too.
And every time it happened, I would stop, silently scream "what in heaven am I doing to myself??" and fall on my knees to the floor in a fit of consuming sobs.
Happened again just last month, really.
...
What else have I done...
Oh, I punch myself too. Harsher version of the above. Doesn't hurt as much, but it leaves a lot of afterache.
The afterache helps, though. Keeps me aware, keeps me thinking about why I'm feeling it, keeps me a little more in control as long as I feel it.
That's why I almsot enjoy pain, in a sickening sense. It's a sharp sensation, and it hurts, or course, but it snaps you back to awareness before you can even blink. And I need that.
It's simply the old "pinch me I'm dreaming" concept. You want your mind out of the fog? You want a sudden cure from distraction? There you go.
Pinching really doesn't hurt, though. Just a sensation of the action itself. Maybe I'm just inured to mild pain like that, I think?
Great, now I have pinchmarks, too. Geez. They'd better be gone by tomorrow morning.

My Death Marionette morph bleeds a lot, you know. Symbolic.
I need to draw myself in it sometime... I've been spontaneously warping into it lately and that kind of scares me.
To think that meeting Q-Lok was what first triggered such a horrific transformation. Thinking about it makes me sick.

Hm. What subject to tackle now?

Oh yes, I signed up for Last.FM yesterday morning, and I love the thing. Introduced me to some lovely new musicians. (That and 99.5 FM, which I love to pieces.)
Boy Kill Boy, Billy Talent, The Hoosiers, Scouting For Girls, Orson... some fantastic stuff.
It just upsets me that Last.FM refuses to play anything by Ima Robot when I'm in the mood for 'em. I am right now, for some odd reason...
*loads up the '12=3' preview in RealPlayer*

"Kiss me goodbye
For the doctors are comin'
We all know why
Because I wasn't born
Here we go again
As time passes by here
We don't live and lie here
We're all going to die
In the end..."

It's an awesome song, and the lyrics seem to sync with me for some reason. Hm.
I ordered the Ima Robot debut CD from Fye today, though, so I should have it by next weekend, wahoo! I love that band.

You know what? I hurt all over.
My stomach hurts, my spine hurts, my arms hurt, my heart hurts.
Nothing seems to help, though, and I'm sick of popping pills...

It's cruel.
Whenever I talk to those who care, I get hit with this sort of thing even worse.
I must have talked to Braeden for three hours last night. He really puts me on a pedestal... says I'm one of the most innocent, loving, kind-hearted people that ever lived...I hope it's true somewhat... but it's really an honor to be told that, although it makes me terribly sad because he's putting himself so far below me and he does not belong there, not ever, not under any circumstances.
He's an incredible person... he's an inspiration, he's a source of hope and wisdom, he's a freaking Sage, for heaven's sakes! He's the sort of person you run to when you need good advice and fast, when you're stuck in a mini-hell and need a hand to get out that you know you can rely on. I am honored and thankful beyond words that I got to speak with him like that for once. It was awesome.
Oh, and I spoke to Ben today, for about an hour, isn't that awesome? I had no idea he was on YIM, and I decided to download and install the program... and he says hello. Lack of coincidence, thank you God.
It was funny... he said that finally talking to me was like meeting the Queen of England. Brilliant! He thinks far too highly of me, I swear... he said I was a really special and kind person, that he was very honored to know me... I said that right back to him, of course, as it's asbolutely true for him as well. I really, truly hope he knows that...
So, anyway, he sent me a brand-new unposted pic of Paranoia, Malevolence and Regret, which is fantastic... I love it muchly. So I'm drawing Paranoia and Regret at the moment, I'm trying my hand at Stern, I'm still working on Kohi, Be, Socks, Guilt, and Doubt, and I just saved a ref pic of Annon so I can try my hand at him later. Three cheers for workloads.
Also I said hello to Jimmy last night (even though he was away) and he showed up on YIM after Ben left, even though he didn't talk to me. That's okay, though. It made me smile to see him on. I freaking love that kid. He's awesome.
Speaking of, I've been positively itching to draw KoH lately... I miss that guy quite a bit. Hm. I'll have to draw him tomorrow evening or something.
I had a brilliant idea today: to draw KoH as the King of Spades, QoJ as the Queen of Diamonds, PoA as the Prince of Clubs, and PoI as the Ace of Hearts. Totally random, I know, but I love it, and I hope Jim will love it too. Yes, I am going to do it!!
Oh yeah... and I also took about two and a half hours to draw FMSR for my little sis. You know, her pink-haired muse? She's adorable, really... I hope Vickie remembers her. I'm having a lot of fun drawing her, despite how many times I keep erasing.
Also found a new J-Monster today! Surprise! I was very happy as a result of that, because very rarely do they just channel through my mind as soon as I pick up a pencil. You know, to just decide to draw and immediately have a full J-Monster drawn in a few minutes without ever having seen them before? Happened all the time in 6th grade, and then they started coming as visions alone, and then I didn't see many for a while... but then the visions came back, I was seeing stuff in wallpaper and floors and ceilings and all that... and now the direct drawing is back. Thank God!
I love the Jewel Monsters so much. I really do. I love them so much. Every one of 'em.
...
It's pretty sad when you have a 0:29 clip of Ima Robot on loop because it's that addictive. Come on, Fye.

Now now now, I hear you all... "if you know that sort of stuff, if you know how much you are worth, then why do you put yourself down and hurt yourself and do such terrible things to yourself etc etc etc??"
Because.
They don't live with me.
They don't see what a damned fool I am sometimes.
They don't see what a horribly corrupted and lost jerk I am over here.
They don't see my bad side, and I don't EVER want them to.
I want it dead. I want it shot dead, I want it dragged right out of my head, this horrid black and glass-edged beast in my mind, this dark side of me, and I want it gone forever before it breaks ALL the way out and I'm lost forever.
I'm so scared of that happening.
Dear God, I am so scared of losing myself to myself.

...
My heart has been feeling so dead lately, I'm afraid I'm losing my love. And if I lose that, I die.
If I lose my ability to love, I will die.
And I don't want to die... for the sake of those I love.
Isn't that just perfectly ironic?

My mind is being shot up with skepticism from some hypodermic needle of hell. I keep yanking it out and throwing it out the window, but when I look back down it's back in my freaking arm, loaded with that bloody doubt and steadily draining, and I'm so terrified and disgusted that I just tear it right back out and fling it and the cycle keeps going and going and meanwhile I am bleeding all over the room.
I can only take so much of this. Too many attacks on my heart and I'll just collapse from blood loss and die pretty freaking quickly.
Speaking of, I have been getting a heck of a lot of knifelike chest pain recently... the kind where it hits and you gasp because you can't breathe and your vision suddenly goes and you get lightheaded and it feels like someone has jabbed a razor between your ribs and is slicing it back and forth and they just won't quit so you have to just hold your breath and pray it stops soon.
Awful stuff. That and my joints are worse than ever. They click every freaking time I move, and even the little snaps are starting to hurt again. My spine is horrid, and my knees are worse. I can't even run a few feet, I can't kneel, I can't even touch them because they feel like they're freaking made of bruises and I end up limping and it's a pain in the neck.
That and every little thing that touches me hurts. I'm getting huge red welts from my watches again, and even now, if something rubs against my legs or arms even slightly chances are it's really going to hurt and it's probably going to leave a mark.
...
What in the name of heaven is going ON with me here???

But now for the Q-Lok subject.
What have I gotten myself into?

...Geez.
What have I gotten myself into?
I can't be all socially anxious here. I can't tell him that I'm having a hard time talking right now, can you come back later when my mind's a little back in order? I can't just block off my mental connections for a little while just to be alone and think and calm down, I can't tell him that I'll come back later and talk when I'm a little more sane.
I only speak with him on Skype, and that's a set time. If I'm feeling totally out of it, then too bad, you've gotta be there for him. So I am.
I only see him on dA, and even when I'm totally screwed up upstairs, I still stop by and say hello if he's on.
If he comes out here, it's not like when Bakura and/or Marik and/or Chaos show up to see how I am and maybe talk for a while or do God knows what and if something comes up I can apologize and say I'll be back later, I promise, and so I simply warp out of my mind and back to this consciousness and whenever whatever came up is over then I go back and apologize again and we continue whatever if we can.
This is physical reality, the accursed thing, I'm not used to it, I'm not comfortable here, even though I love the good places and moments here. This world is so much more beautiful than dreams sometimes... maybe because my dreams frequently reflect the dark places in reality? The clogged and deadly highways and smog-choked cities? The jails and abandoned buildings and buzzing yellow ceiling lights and shadowy corners and silent cold stares from dead eyes and rooms engulfed in searing fire and bombs exploding in the hallway behind you and back alleys full of fear?
Why do I even dream like that?
Even so. Darn this distraction. Get out of my mind.
It scares me because I don't know what to do now. I don't know what to do now that I'm dealing with a human, for the love of God, someone in this physical reality that I never really fit into, someone that I never really fit with. I don't know what to do.
I'm socially anxious to the point of severity, and mostly because I am afraid of hurting and scaring people.
Mostly because I am afraid of people getting tangled up in my puppetstring-drowned mind and feeling the cuts of the tension. Bleeding from the connection.
I am scared to death.
How many times have I said that?
Oh well. Emphasis works.

Psyche is such an awesome Puremaren, I swear. I meant to color him today, but I got distracted, DARN IT, and now it's 11:17 PM EST and I should try to get to sleep before 1AM. I've been going to bed after 2 the past few days. Too much work. Too little time.
I'm becoming nocturnal, the crazy bat that I am.
The daytime is gorgeous, but only when you're outside and not out in public! The public scares me and leaves me with this crippling feeling of loneliness and isolation and terror and vulnerability and I'm never sure if I'm going to get out of it and back to where it's "safe" once I go in. And "home" is poison! There's terrible physical junk there, and horrid talk, horrid words from my parents. Well, parent, but you know what I mean. The only really safe place is outside, in the green air, the beautiful sun-studded air, shining through the countless trees where no one can bother me, usually. That or at my laptop. It's safe here. Here I can type my dreams and thoughts and feelings and I can write history and I can change history and I can change lives and I can discover lives and I can talk to people that love me and I can feel like I'm worth something to someone here. And my mind is safe, when I'm awake. I can hide in there, I can head off to the Dream World or I can just wander through music and colors and words and emotions or I can just remember. The other four that I love dearly can reach me there, and I can forget all my worries for a little while and I can forget everything for a little while and that's why I don't want to sleep... I want to stay awake and dream because when I hand the subconscious control over to the doorways in my mind they explode into realms of confusion and frantic motion and that feeling of being totally lost. I always wander in my dreams, no matter where I am or who I'm with, I never belong anywhere and I'm never where I should be... I always lose my way when I drive, I've been hit by natural disasters several times, I get caught in fires a lot, I've watched bombs explode before my eyes, I've felt guns pressed into me and I've felt them fire.
And yet I still love to dream.
I love getting lost, in a sad and broken way, even though I cry in dreams and always feel so scared, I love getting lost because I see so many beautiful things and frightening things that I would never see otherwise and sometimes God lets me get lucky and I meet someone I love on the way... the original three of my guys banding together and finding me, multiple times, that's always a blessing. Bakura and Marik going Christmas shopping for me and trying to hide the gifts when I walked over so I wouldn't ruin the surprise... and Chaos in a car, do you remember that? Only had a few seconds, but dear heavens it was still one of the best dreams ever. Honestly.
Why does Psyche's pearl always look somewhat pink? Do normal pearls look somewhat pink? I'm not sure. I don't see many pearls on a daily basis, y'know. Hmm. I'll have to look into that. And is Corona's soul gem a diamond or what? I need to try and meet those guys in a dream... hope Corona doesn't strangle me with her horns, uh-oh. Psyche would probably break my back when he hugged me but I can put up with that. Darn thing doesn't work the way it is.

I wonder what the heck Q-Lok is going to want to talk about tomorrow?... I have no idea, really.
What did he talk about Friday night... I don't remember Friday at all.
My crazy mind remembers a mention of a Chaos Zero picture he drew, and that stuck with me because I have seen that exact situation occur, practically. Not Chaos literally screaming at Perfect, as Perfect is part of him, albeit an unnatural part, and Chaos wants him out at almost any cost. Usually I see Chaos screaming at Robotnik. Robotnik can be a real devil. He's caused us a heck of a lot of pain. I need to start drawing and typing stuff up and fast... oh yeah, and there was the one time Perfect just took over during one of Chaos' emotional breakdowns and we couldn't get him out. It was frightening as hell, and Bakura had to end up putting him in a conscious stasis while Marik warped my consciousness directly into Perfect's, so I could talk to Chaos Zero himself instead. Dear God, he had already resigned himself to death by that point... he had already made up his mind that he would rather die than suffer through Perfection again, because he had no control at all. He couldn't stop it, and he couldn't escape. I had been trying to talk to him while he was Perfect, and he explained to me then that he did hear, he heard every word, but he was helpless to do anything but listen, and it was driving him out of his mind with desperation. It was really a terrible incident, then entire thing, but something very good came out of it... that was the battle during which I found my Cathedral wings. Also, at one point, near the end of the battle, I literally broke them off and let them degenerate into fragments of my personality on the street below. Well, Bakura and Marik decided to form their own wings out of said fragments, and thus Bakura got his Sapphire wings and Marik his Rose ones. The other two fragments... Chaos got one of them once I managed to forcibly shock him into his Perfect Angel form, and for the life of me I can't remember what kind of wings he got...they were freaking gorgeous, though. I'll have to ask him to re-dream them sometime. And-- let me think-- the last fragment actually went to Selph, I believe, but I don't remember those either. I think they're simply huge angel wings made of light, but I'm not positive. There was one huge incident late last year with Robotnik again and we all decided to use our Soul wings together, and I think that's what his were... hm... what am I doing ranting about this right now?

Oh yes, we also brought up the fact that my mother apparently let my given name (which I loathe desperately) slip, and now Q-Lok knows, and due to it's connection to a certain headvoice of mine he is very shaken and upset by it. Well, join the club, so am I. That's why I'm getting it changed ASAP, and also why my piano teacher called today (she's awesome) with the legal info we need, so it'll happen soon, God willing.

God ALSO willing, and please please please be willing, God... I will finally live up to that name.

I am trying so hard. I really am. You all know that. I know that.
But, even though I'm trying, I keep screwing up.
And unless I stop that, I'm not going to get anywhere. You also know that.
So hopefully God will give me a little extra help and take away this distraction disease, please? It would help immensely.
Hm. I'll have to look into that and see if the means aren't already within my reach and accessible. Hopefully they are.

Here's another random bit of info I feel like writing down while I'm in the mood to reveal details about my personal life and the people I love.
You know how Delphi broke Selph's soul gem in half, and then stole a good half of his actual being? Well, here's a little something about it.
It can still be opened, you see. Except, now, Selph's systems are so unstable as a result of that initial disruption, and his soul is so unstable because it's missing a good part of itself, that if one was to open his gem again, his dream energy would literally explode out of him. Oh yeah, and any sort of physical contact with his gem hurts, especially if you were to touch that split right down the center, where the gem is shattered. That hurts a ton... but nothing hurts my poor muse more than when his gem actually opens. Yes, it has been opened since... by Selph himself. And why? Because it's a weapon. A suicidal weapon, but a weapon nonetheless.
He's only used it about three times, and all for a very short while, because once I realized what was happening as a result I virtually forbade him from ever doing it again. Chaos, too-- if he's around and Selph is about to pull out his deadly trump card, he'll run right over and will literally fight with him to stop it if he has to. He's terribly protective of Selph, just as he is of me, and oftentimes he's the only immediate reason why Selph will spare himself.
But here's the scary part... the huge energy disharge from Selph's open soul gem isn't just dormant energy that has built up as a result of pain and trauma and all that. It's his actual dream energy... it's part of his soul.
That was the original reason Selph's gem was torn open in the first place, and like I said, he's so unstable inside as a result of being so abused, that when he opens his gem it just explodes from sheer frantic disorder... and as a sort of unconscious biologically suicidal response to "finish the job", or empty out the rest of his being because it's just not working right with only half left. It's scary.
And yet, that's not even the worst of it. I have seen the worst through Link-induced imaginings... they're not reality, just thoughts that I will activate if I want to see a "what if" situation play out or whatever... and one of my morbid "what-if"s was, "what would happen if Selph had his soul gem open for more than a few seconds?" Just out of anxiety. Well, apparently, if Selph left it open long enough, the rainbow-white soul energy would not only surge until it was completely and finally drained, but... the pure stress of that happening would apparently ravage the rest of him, and even before the energy stopped... he would start bleeding out.
You heard me. Nightmaren bleed dreams, remember? Well, with the literal suicidal nature of his soul energy being forcibly exploded out from inside him, it only logically follows that he would start to hemorrhage and quite literally bleed to death. To stop beating around the bush, if Selph let his soul energy completely burn out of him, the energy blast would suddenly become starry-black Nightmaren blood and abrubptly sputter out, leaving him about 98% dead and the final 2% coming up fast. He'd probably be left with 5 minutes, tops, depending on how much willpower he had left at that point. Oh yeah, and he'd start regressing... a word which here means, rapid mental deterioration back to the point of he becoming more or less exactly the being he was when Wizeman originally created him... if Selph didn't fight it as well as he could, that is. He'd become a raving, mindless lunatic before his life finally gave out, both from pain and the loss of near everything inside him.
This is why we're all so freaking terrified when Selph gets caught in a fight, because, like me, he can be quite the suicidal altruist and throw himself into the path of death if it means saving someone else from it. All the actual times he opened his gem in order to completely obliterate some lethal threat, it was indeed a lethal threat that he was obliterating. And even then we all try to convince him not to do anything, because such a retaliation could literally cost him his life and the risk is ALWAYS there.
Hm. So that's it for that. Thought I would get that information out there now. Next time I might talk about Perfect again, go into more detail and explain some of the important and yet-unknown-to-the-public stuff. We'll see. If I have time.

Well, kids, I think I must have jumped back and forth between at least 15 different subjects. Go count and see for yourself, I have no time, it's already 12:30 AM, ohmygoodness! So I'd better get to sleep so I can wander, and I can't wait, honestly.
Oh, hold on one second...
*brings up the Ima Robot song clip again*

Rock science
And people got talk talk science
And people see stars sometimes
And some people raise cadavers
But not me, I see
The sun is made of string
Lights out from the underworld
People talk about God
Are they insane?
I don't think so
I say they're maybe spreading some love
Spreading it around
And it feels good
In your skin

Livin' it up in the atmosphere
Nobody dies if the heart is here...

 

 

 

 

 

 

Current Mood: absolutely terrible...
Current Music: A whole playlist of sad music

 

 

What the freaking heck is going wrong with my life?!

 

Honestly...

My mind keeps telling me that I don't deserve anything... keeps putting me down, keeps tearing me up and making me want to burst into furious sobs from all the lies and deceit and spite and bitterness but I can't because the pain and exhaustion has drained me empty on the inside. And it hurts.

...

Dot dot dot.


Theology teacher took a break from the horrid sex talk today and brought up a little something that we talked about a while back.
"Look forward ten years," said the teacher, "and think about it-- how many of you will have died by then?"
Sore spot.
"You might think I'd be the first one in this room to pass away, with how old I am... but I have buried more students than you can imagine. I just wonder... which one of you is going to be the first?"

I'm so scared that it might be me.

I've been... deteriorating.
No sleep.
No peace.
No silence.
No motivation.
So much stress.
So much pain.
So many tears.
So many worries.
So much guilt...

I'm killing myself and half the time I don't even realize it until it's too late.

I'd rather not be dead... right, Johnny?
Killing myself would only put a damper on my search for answers...

"...If they really had a desire to live, they would've been more aware of how easy it is to die... would've chosen their actions more wisely."

Oh, I'm trying... I'm trying, so hard... and I keep screwing up...

I read something in my Philosophy book as I was studying up on the later chapters today.

Only those who are virtuous can achieve happiness.


For heaven's sakes, I'm trying! I'm killing myself for trying so hard! Humans make mistakes, and I make far too freaking many!!
I'm being torn apart... I'm such a failure... I commit so many wrongs; little wrongs, big wrongs, wrongs that confuse me so badly and hurt me so badly that I don't know what size they are, I only know how guilty I feel.
If I judged by my guilt, every freaking thing I do could easily be categorized as a huge misdeed.

I keep screwing up... I keep letting people down...


"I would rather not die, but I don't seem to have much say in the matter. But, I'm also not like you; I'm not clouded.
I have no family, no friends, really; nothing. But I do have faith; You know, God and all that. A heaven for me, and a hell for you.
So f*ck fear. I have nothing to fear."

"I envy your conviction..."


I can fit either voice, really.
I can be either Johnny or Edgar.

 

I hold Edgar's own beliefs, tried and true, to my own sorry soul.
I feel Johnny's doubt, his self-loathing, his feeling that he's not doing things right at all.

I do have faith. I have nothing to fear.
I'm just afraid of what comes after.
Will I end up in the right place?


I keep messing up down here. I keep doing the wrong thing, even though I try.
I can point fingers at so many things, too; stupid me.... ignorance, distraction, stupidity, weakness. All true.
But the bottom line is that I'm a freaking sinner just like the rest of them and I'm no better than anyone else.
I try so hard.
I try so hard to live the right way...

This house makes it hard.
Today was beautiful RIGHT up to the moment I walked in the door.
Ths place is poison, freaking poison... and that's not just my opinion.
My teachers have said the same. My counsellors have said the same. My friends have said the same. My loves have said the same.
There is so much HATE and PREJUDICE and ANGER and IGNORANCE and APATHY and UNFORGIVENESS and VULGARITY and IMPATIENCE and PETTINESS and WRONG in this freaking house.

I cannot live here anymore.
I can only die here from now on.
Every day I do. I die a little bit more.
It might be my emotions, today. They might be deadened a little, they might be thrown to a fever pitch and burn a hole right through me.
It might be my health, today. I might get sick again, as I've been doing often. I might not get any sleep again, as I've been doing since the year started. I might hurt myself again, as I've been doing since my childhood.
It might be my sanity, today. I might collapse in sobs under the pain. I might explode in screams under the vice. I might disappear in silence under the stress.
I might forget it all when I wake up.
I might be eaten alive by the aching.
I might be torn to pieces by the waiting,
Hoping, praying, looking up to wherever God is looking down on me and literally begging for deliverance.

"When will this end?" "Will I ever be free from this?"
"Do I deserve to be free from this?"
"What have I done? What have I done??"
"What can I do?"
"I don't know what's going on here anymore..."
"Please, somehow, save me from all this!!"


And He IS!! He IS, and I'm too freaking STUPID and BLIND to even REALIZE IT!!!

I have the Jewel Monsters! I have the Hokthai! I have every other influence that has ever graced my life, from Vash to NiGHTS to Celebi to heaven knows who else!
I have dreams, I have hope, I have faith, I have imagination, I have inspiration, I have love!
I have Bakura! I have Marik! I have Chaos! I have Selph!
I have Jimmy and Ben and Vickie and Mel and Tsubasa and Shub and Sarist and Smiter and Ideya and Mad and Naysu and Shadow and Kuroius and LUA and Viral and everybody else!!
I have people who love me!! I have people who care!!
I have free will! I have decent health, I have a decent family, I have a decent home, I have a freaking roof over my head! I have an education, I have talents, I have a future!
I have God, for heavens sakes, and half the time I forget EVERYTHING that I have and sink into these horrible depressions because I feel so freaking worthless and stupid and ignorant and idiotic and hypocritical and sinful and vicious and cold and I feel like a failure in every aspect of life even though EVERYONE that cares about me is telling me that I'm not, I'm not, for the love of all that is righteous I'm not, I'm a good person, I'm a true friend, I'm an inspiration, I'm a guiding light, I'm a hope bringer, I'm a big sister, dear God in heaven what did I ever do to deserve that from someone in this world, from someone as good and as incredible a person as she is?? What did I do??

Mercy above, let me know what the heck I did so that I can do it again, please...

...


"Dear Die-ary.

There's nothing wrong with feeling lost, so much as that feeling precedes some plan on your part to actually do something about it.
Too often a person grows complacent with their disillusionment, perpetually wearing their "discomfort" like a favorite shirt.
I can't say I'm very pleased with where my life is just now...
...But I can't help but look forward to where it's going."


Johnny, Johnny, Johnny... we're too alike. We are too freaking alike for it to be healthy sometimes.

I... I'm not very pleased with where my life is just now. To be brutally honest, I'm pretty freaking crushed. I'm not content at all, really... not happy at all... even though I know I'm trying, even though so many people are telling me I'm living life all right so far...
...I still know things that no one else does.
I've done things. I've said things. I've thought things.
I don't mean them at all, really.
Most of the time I'm being too freaking distracted and ignorant to realize what's going on... and when it hits me, I collapse into a sea of guilt and self-hatred.

Yeah, self-hatred. My biggest and hardest sin to conquer.
And I really am sorry.

I'm contrite, actually. Like I've said so many times before, I am so sorry. For everything. Especially for that.
And don't get me wrong, I AM trying to change... every day I try... but I never seem to get any farther. I seem to be running in circles.

"Shit! I can't even die peacefully!! I'm still as confused as always!!! I'm so sick of feeling like this!! SICK!! I HATE THIS!!!"

Once again, Johnny boy... took the words right out of my mind.
I'm so sick of this.
This guilt. This confusion. This self-loathing. This discontent.
This sorrow. This distress. This worry. This despair.
And the only reason I have for feeling that way is my own tendency to fail.
My list of wrongs.
My status as a sinner.
I HAVE to change all that, and soon...

I tried to forgive myself today.
At school, I was so ready to.
It had been such a beautiful day... it had been so beautiful... and when I got home the poison choked me.
I felt totally worthless and malignant all over again, and I found that I couldn't form that decision to forgive myself any more. Not while I was suffering in this house of pain. It's held so much over the past 18 years...
I was so ready to let it go.
But I realized that I can't yet.

Not until I actually change.


...We had confessions at school today.

God blessed me again. So many blessings today.
He sent me to the priest with the biggest smile and the friendliest manner... I confessed my recent problems and then popped the question.
"Father, there's something that's been bugging me... if I did something wrong years ago, and no matter how much I try to make up for it, no matter how sorry I am for it, no matter how contrite I am and no matter how much penance I do for it... I just can't get rid of the guilt... what should I do?"

I've had this conversation with a priest before.

 

Twice.

Pathetic, huh?
How I never learn?

"If you're truly sorry, and you confessed your wrongs, then you have no need to feel guilty; because no sin is greater than God's mercy, and he forgives you... but I think the real problem is trying to forgive yourself."

Bingo.

"I suggest you try and get rid of the guilt in a tangible way. Take that sin that is plaguing you, look at what it is, and find a positive way to make up for that sin. Or, if you can't do that with it, do what I do... write everything that you feel guilty about on a piece of paper... everything... ad then burn it. Watch it go up in smoke, and maybe that will help you come to terms with your forgiveness."

I meant to do that today.

Honest I did.

But my silly mind decided to empty itself out here first.
My fractured heart decided to confess my worries first.
My wandering soul decided to tell everything to this black and red screen first... just to free myself from the pain a tiny bit, just to get a better perspective of everything, just to say everything I could possibly say.


...Well, with all this morbid subject matter, I'm going to write to Johnny, because I can.


All right, JC, I know we're both in the same situation. Even so... you're even more screwed up in the head than I am, but it's not by much, and although that does scare me, it gives me the craziest sort of empathy for you. 95% of the time you speak I can relate. 95% of your words I have said myself, in some way. Yeah, 95%! After all, I don't know what it's like to be like you, right? And I don't. You have lived through some hideous times and done many hideous things, but sometimes... heck, all the time, you know me... I can see past that and I can see who you were before it all. Jhonen said it himself. You are more your own enemy than any external mind could be, what with the decomposure of most definitely was, at one time, one heck of an intelligent mind. You may very well be more mentally malformed than any of those people who you say have ruined your world, but... you're lost. You're terribly, utterly lost. And I know what that dread feels like. I'm not saying I'm going to save you from it all. I doubt that I can. No sir, I know that far too well. I'm not from any land of happiness. You and I are both confused, we're both lost, we're both guilty self-loathers who just want answers and freedom from our shadows. I can't alleviate your troubles and worries, but I'd like to. It's my nature. I don't know anything about your past; heck, oftentimes I'm not sure I even know you. You do scare me sometimes, Johnny, and you deeply worry me what with the things you've done and why you do them, but... like I said, I'm an altruist. I'm a very loving and forgiving altruist, whether or not anyone else sees that, which may or may not be the polar opposite of your own personality. You're a good guy at heart, and I can see that. No matter how "f*cking ugly" you may have become on the inside recently, you'll never lose the light you had. No one ever does. You just need to find it again... and I think that's what both you and I have been trying to do all this time. Don't you remember talking to Nailbunny? "Do you remember how much of this is me and how much is what that thing did to me?" And how about that line I hold so dearly... "this isn't me?" You don't want to be like this, and neither do I. Time and time again you've stared up at the stars at 2AM, just like I have... You say happiness, contentment, are impossibilities for you... are they? I hope not. I know the fear, and I hope it's not true for either of us. You are trying, and you're getting somewhere, whether you realize it or not. You're fighting your shadows. You're a slave to no id either. And you know all about guilt. But you're looking forward to where your life is going, right? Well... I will too. Thank you, Johnny, for not only giving me more insight into myself, for not only helping me know myself a little better, but for helping me out of the darkest time of my entire life simply by the fact that we were both suffering the same darn things. I remember sitting outside work, too sick and sad to go in, at that perfect winter evening hour when the sun had just set... sitting under the streetlights, actually, and reading JTHM in the silence. I think you were actually talking to the doughboys, in that little bit of time there... I wish I remembered... but I do remember the feeling of empathy, of some bizarre connection, of knowing that you could really be someone important in my life. ...Regardless. I'm typing far too much. I'll just close up and we can deal with this all some other time when I'm not pressed for time and schedule. 9:30 PM, y'know, and although I haven't been sleeping much either, both of us do need some, okay?


Hm...

I feel horrendously sick. I had no appetite when I came home, which is unusual for me, and have been horribly lightheaded and dizzy since 3PM or so. It's now 10:07 exactly.
Huh... my money's on stress, but you never know. Oh well. I'll be over it soon enough. Such is life.

Well, seeing as I've been typing a ludicrously huge amount of words for a ridiculously long period of time, and it's undoubtedly going to eat the vast majority of space on my lovely IJ, I think it would be best if I closed up as soon as possible.
Oh my. And now I have a headache. Honest heavens, the room is spinning... geez... if I close my eyes everything moves in these funky little spirals and I feel absolutely horrid.
Well, thank God almighty that tomorrow is technically 'Senior Day,' which means there'll have a mass and a breakfast and whatever else is planned but no classes! So I can skip it without missing work, wahoo!
I'll miss the mass terribly, as it's a May crowning mass and it's supposed to be lovely, but ehh.... if I feel this sick, and I need sleep, and I have so freaking much work to do, then by all means I'm stayin' home, darn it. Spinny needs another sick day and I don't care what my guidance counselor says, he knows how sick and stressed I am. Need proof, walk in the door and take a look at me, I do not look well, no sir!

Honest, I seriously doubt I'll be able to hold up any longer, I'm going to quit... oh, hold the phone, I have a tutoring session after school tomorrow, darn it!
...Would they find it odd if I stumbled in at 2:40 to attend C++ tutoring, or what? I hope not, my freaking spazout memory needs all the help it can get, sick or not!

Well, time to close up, then.
I am doing well, regardless of health and worry and stress and my grandmother screaming again...
Yep, life is paradoxically good. Thank God.

G'night, kids.
See you soon.


...Oh yes,
And I'm going to burn myself a sin paper first thing tomorrow morning if I get up on time.

Wish me the best of luck with my new beginnings, eh?

Here's to the best of luck with yours.


Love you guys.


-spinny c.

 

 

 

 

Current Location: someplace very sad and quiet
Current Mood: ...
Current Music: Dreams Dreams: Broken Soul Remix (Jewel L.)

 

GEEZ! What a day I've had, kids.
Lonely and confused lass icon because that is how I feel. Indeed.

Quick rundown.
Got up around 7:30 so I could get to church for 8:30 Unfortunately, my mum and brothers wanted to go too, and we only have one car. So I had to wait for them... and we ended up 10 minutes late. WHAT. That is not nice.

Second point. Got Neldoreth up to level 40, finally! I haven't played my DS since October 13th. I kid you not.
I love Neldy, though. He's so crazy awesome. *hug*

Third point. Was inspired by my darling muse (who I love immensely) to remix "Dreams Dreams" in a minor key... oh yes, no one has attempted that yet!... and completely re-write the lyrics to fit the two of us. You heard me.
I spent half of my entire freaking day writing it all, and the finished product is about 5:30 and freaking GORGEOUS.
I will link it for you dudes once it's posted on the semi-official NiD website. Yes I will.

Fourth point. The other half of my day was eaten by Sigmund Freud and William Golding.
See, I got them both tickets to Cinemark and some fancy restaurants, but there's nothing good playing and Freud doesn't like eating out, so they crashed at my house all day and wouldn't stop bugging me. Eh. I'll have to finish this report tonight (read: this morning) so they leave me be. Leave my brain alone. I am a slave to no id!
...
*makes sure Rev. Meat isn't anywhere around*

Fifth point! Um... Johnny. Johnny C. Because I can.
You know, I really need to draw him... oh! Point six! Point six!

Point six is the fact that I'm still in the middle of coloring Swatch and Psyche, the scanner won't work so I can't post Selph's birthday art on dA yet, I need to finish drawing Eclipse, Corona, Millie, Mandy, Cinnamon, and Adrenaline for references and soon, and I need to draw a full and correct reference of myself for anyone that needs it, mainly Jester, Qlok, and Jimmy. Oh yes and LAD. Geez why do people want to draw me? It's uncanny.

Seventh point is that I turn eighteen on Wednesday (TWO FREAKING DAYS WHAT) and I am nervous out of my fishing mind. Honest.
You know what my mum is like; I'm afraid she's actually going to try throwing me out of the house. I already had to get another job to pay for college, and might end up with a third soon, but... eh.... I'm also worried because I have to hire a copyright lawyer for all my series, especially the one that's celebrating it's 10th anniversary on Wednesday too (happy anniversary guys) and that I am 6 years behind on typing notes. Darn it all.

Eighth point is that I am stressed out of my mind with not just work and all that but also my size. I'm not fat or anything, but huge amounts of stress plus lack of sleep plus the insane diet this family insists on following equals not very good health and a larger waistline than I like. It's... girly. Euughh. Plus I'm always working so I have to literally force my exercise into my schedule, and darn straight I make sure I do. I went out on the porch at 11:30 PM last night to use the elliptical for 45 minutes. To heck with the time, it's almost 4AM now.

Ninth point... hey, that's a lot of points. Regardless, point number nine (not the Beatles song) is related to the above point and is the fact that I desperately need to try and 1) get in shape, 2) get some more self-confidence, and 3) all in all fix myself because I've really screwed myself up.
Oh yeah and I also have severe SAD, or so mum says, so I'd better fix that too. Seriously, we went to a bridal shower on Saturday and I was deathly sick from the time I got out of the car to the time I got back in the darn thing. I just feel like a total reject... a nuisance, an unwanted intruder. I don't fit in, and I'm not just saying that to be 'cool' or 'unique' or anything. I'm a freaking screwup failure anomaly and life's not very easy because of it. Plus I'm a polyamorous asexual celibate xenophile so girls get all "wtf" around me because I'm so damn odd and am literally scared to death of anything and everything sexual and also am creeped the heck out by guys and babies. CREEPED. Oh yeah and girls too. They scare me, badly.
Stereotype-matchers creep me out the most, though. I try not to ever judge, EVER, for any reason, but if I do happen to notice a girl who's living up to the terrible talk... you know, all flippy and spazzy and silly and boy-crazy, I will avoid such a person like the plague. Such people scare me! Ditto that fact with girl-crazy, overly buff, sporty and all that guys. I don't even know. Regardless I'm just not comfortable around young adults... heck, I'm not comfortable around anything with a reproductive system. Eh. Oh, funny story with that, actually. Give me a sec, I'm just going to say the main reason why the bridal shower got me sick. Reason number one-- it's a wedding. Geez! Now I'm all for people who love each other being together and all that, but... the whole 'side effects' of getting married, you know, with living together and having kids... NO THANK YOU. I'm literally getting shivers just thinking about it. But yeah, about the kids. Now, I'm pretty much okay with kids from age 7 on up, because any earlier than that and they have no personality, really... no self, no conscience, no mind. They're not mature, which gets me nervous. My mind never freaking stops, so if I have to deal with something that does not think about such things, I get really uneasy. You know what I mean about the kids, right? Oh but infants are even worse. They... squirm. Eeeech. And they babble and everything. It... it just gets me all freaked out. Maybe I'm just mental. Geez. By the way I'm sorry Johnny because I know you think babies are cute, and maybe they are, but then again I'm also the sort of person who thought cobras were cute when I was in kindergarten. I swear. Nothing wrong with babies, no, but they're not for me. No sir.
All right and now for that funny story. ...Well, maybe it's not funny, but I just find it amusing. You see, my Theology class just switched the class focus to marriage WTF that is NOT NICE. So he's asking all these questions about typical teenage relationships and sex and all that junk and I'm just sitting there watching the clock and thinking "good heavens if he calls on me I'm either going to explode or go into an all-out asexual rant and probably get thrown into an asylum. just you watch" but I kept falling asleep thank God so it didn't happen and I didn't hear. Joy! But yes, apparently he was going to give us a QUIZ on the dreaded three-letter word of death but I took the day off sick (all-nighter, remember?) and by golly I think I'm going to take today off too. To heck with school it's a day E and I don't have Physics or Psychology anyway. Plus I need to get Freud to bug off so I'll go back when he goes back. Besides it's already 4:11 and I want to finish my rant so I can finish my term paper. So yes! Asexual ranting. I really am going to do it. Here and in Philosophy class. I got really really lovely close in Philosophy, but she didn't push the subject which got me upset. Dangit I wish to rant about my freakish mind please.
So by the way. About relationships. Being asexual and all, I am thank-God-scott-free from physical longing like that and also physical attraction and the need to go on dates and wear perfume and makeup and pink and talk on cell phones, which is stupid anyway. Yeah. Don't do any of it, darn straight. However since I am a polyamorous xenophile I 1) love the world, 2) have many many many inhuman friends who are awesome, 3) have 5 loves and 4) two of them aren't human! Yes yes yes, Chaos Zero and Selph. Dear heavens I love them so much. Honestly. To the point where I would die for them. It's a beautiful feeling to have. Oh yeah and even better is the fact that both of them are completely sexless, which is awesome times twentysix. So I can do stuff with them that I can't do with anybody else! Yeah! That and I talk to Selph about absolutely freaking everything, even moreso than Chaos because Selph virtually lives with me and also I had to teach him, literally, everything I knew about life on earth when he first came here back in 2005. So we have a very very very close connection. Hence the song I spent all day writing. You'll see when I post the lyrics and/or sing them. Honest.
But enough of that, on to point number 10!

Point 10 and the final point happens to be Monday, which happens to be today, which happens to be my Skype day, which happens to mean I get to talk to Qlok. It's kind of odd, being friends with him, because he's an actual physical human guy of this reality and normally I would not be comfortable with that, but hey. He's a nice kid.
See this is why I'm so fantastically happy that I can rant here and not on LJ. Gosh I am being such a spaz right now. Hm. I blame Golding. And the sugar. And the fatigue. And the nervous holy fishness that comes with Mondays and school mornings and chest pains and head congestion and shaky hands and music on my mind and my muse rubbing his eyes because he's tired and lots of work to do and typing at 4:22 AM. YES!
But yeah back to Qlok. I'm very worried about his opinion of me. I know he worries about me, but I'm such a freaking headcase and emotional wreck and anomalous human type person that I am seriously thinking that, whatever I am and whatever I'm not, at least in his opinion, I'm not good for him or anyone. Honest. I think I'm a very bad thing for him to have in his life... even though I try my freaking hardest to be a good person I'm just not there yet and the world gives me funny looks and I don't work with society's gameplan because God decided to build me differently and I just feel broken. And gosh I'm losing my vocabulary hang on what vocabulary I keep saying oh yeah but indeed fantastic freaking awesome fish what over and over. Geez. That too. But regardless, Qlok really does deserve someone else as a friend... at least someone who's a lot more stable, a lot nicer looking, a lot kinder, a lot less weird and scared and freakish and mental. Someone with a nice smile and a kind family, maybe with a pet dog or something, who comes from a small town and gets along with all the neighbors and likes the color blue and knows how to sing. Oh yeah and has a baby brother and gets good grades and is on the soccer team and can drive around town without having fits of mental narcolepsy or whatever in heaven's name this junk is. Someone with light brown hair and green eyes and maybe a couple freckles (gosh that does sound cute) who's not a prom queen or anything but is still terribly pretty and doesn't have braces and will never need 'em and is tall and sweet and upbeat and optimistic and a true friend for life who always takes the time to talk to you when you're down and dear God in heaven I'm crying. I'm literally crying.

What the fish. What the unholy freaking fish. Honestly.
Why the hell do I care about this?
Stop being so selfish. Stop. This has nothing to do with you.

Even so, I'm none of those things... except for the tall part and the bit about not being a prom queen... but that doesn't matter. He's too good a person to deserve as bad a person as me. Everyone is.
I just... well, I deserve to be alone, like I've always been, and I want to be. I like it this way, to be honest. Saves people, too.

I'm very unstable, would never place first in a beauty contest, am too freaking anxious to help when I want to sometimes (and then beat myself up for it), am terribly weird and cripplingly scared and ridiculously mental. My smiles are sad and my family is explosive, my dog died and I had no neighbors up until 2005 or so and I love the color red even though I'm quiet around people because I'm scared of them and I can't hit high notes because I'm nowhere near a soprano. My brother is 16 and had to go to a mental hospital for possible suicidal tendencies and my grades are dropping because my mind won't stay focused on non-worry and I can't play soccer because of my bad joints and bad back and frequently lose awareness when I'm behind the wheel even though I don't drink and never will. My hair is dark brown and my eyes are dark brown and don't look up as much as they used to and I don't have a single freckle (and I'm not cute in any sense of the word) and I was never popular or well-known and I'm not very pretty, remember and I had braces in my freshman year and I'm still a shrimp compared to most people I see and I always feel like a hypocrite when I'm all smiles and I'm only upbeat when I'm in a panicked headrun kind of like right now and I used to be an optimist geez I miss those days and I keep losing the only friends I ever had even though it's not entirely my fault, at least I hope not and I can't even think of the words to say even though I'm dying and everyones's always so upset because of me and what I've become and I'm so sorry...

 

 

 

 

Okay, kids, here are a few souls that you'll meet in this journal... besides me, of course.
I'll post random intros as new guys show up, if they do. Look forward!


Name: Selph
Species: Nightmaren
Age: Unknown (He's been with me 3 years)
Role: Muse/ Living conscience/ Love
In Journals: Keeps me from losing too much control; has a lot of insight and ideas; always gets the truth of a situation out

Name: Chaos Zero
Species: Unknown
Age: Unknown (He's been with me 5 years)
Role: Love/ Guardian
In Journals: Refuses to let me put myself down; loses control in stressful situations; keeps my headvoices in check

Name: Julie
Species: Headvoice
Age: None (Known her since early childhood)
Role: Id (Shadow)/ Personification of vice
In Journals: N/A; Hasn't spoken online, and I don't want her to.

Name: Laurie
Species: Headvoice
Age: None (Known her for about 2 years)
Role: "Psycho superego"/ Personification of self-hatred
In Journals: Argues and insults me until I confront her; fights with all other headvoices; gives me terribly good advice


That's all for now, but you may have seen these three in my Xanga...


Name: Lynne
Species: Headvoice (re-absorbed)
Age: None (Knew her for a few months)
Role: Superego?/ Personification of self-worth
In Journals: Very supportive of me; stands up for me when I won't

Name: Jessica
Species: Headvoice (re-absorbed, possibly re-forming)
Age: None (Knew her since early childhood; only personified her this past year)
Role: Corrupted ego/ Personification of failure
In Journals: Constantly brings up the downside of things

Name: Natalie
Species: Headvoice (re-absorbed)
Age: None (Knew her for about a year)
Role: Reflection/ Personification of optimism
In Journals: N/A; Natalie is voiceless



Hope to see you soon...


-spinny c.