Allegra: I did have some trouble with the recitative at the beginning.
Doctor Fell: Dante's first sonnet from La Vita Nuova. He saw Beatrice Portinari across a chapel and he loved her at that instant and for the rest of his life. But then had a disturbing dream--
Allegra: "Joyous Love seemed to me, the while he held my heart in his hands, and in his arms, My lady lay asleep wrapped in a veil..."
Doctor Fell: "...He woke her then, and trembling and obedient, she ate that burning heart out of his hand. Weeping, I saw him then depart from me."
Allegra: He saw her eat his heart! Do you believe a man could become so obsessed with a woman from a single encounter?
Doctor Fell: Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for her? Find nourishment in the very sight of her? I think so. But would she see through the bars of his plight, and ache for him?

Happy fucking New Year.

I've decided that I hate sex. Not the act, not what it is in itself, but what it stands for, and what it brings.

Why was I left here?

Tsutomu: What are you doing tomorrow?
Sawa: Nothing.
Tsutomu: Steal me away, get me drunk, and rape me. :P
Sawa: I should be the one saying that.
Tsutomu: Steal me away! ....I want to be the woman this time.
Sawa: I hate being the man. Will you go down on me?
Tsutomu: I thought you'd never ask.
Sawa: I'm serious.
Tsutomu: Yes, I will.
Sawa: I don't let just anyone do this.
Tsutomu: Where?
Sawa: Here. No one will be home all day. If you're up for the walk.
Tsutomu: I'm pretty sure I'm up for it. What time should I show up?
Sawa: Anytime after eleven thirty.
Tsutomu: Okay.

Anything to make me forget.

Tsutomu... don't cry. Please. I didn't... mean to be so... myself. You frustrate the fuck out of me sometimes. ._.

...Two new people IM me, one I'm sure is Missy, the other I think is one of Jade's little underlings. If not, then it's Missy with yet another AIM name. x.x I love this game of Guess the Stranger.

Paradox Lain: i need a name for a town
RyuichixTatsuha: MelissaOwnsAll
RyuichixTatsuha: ...ville

Sawa: Bleh. I was going to write you a little something pretty but it turned out longer than I'd like.
Jade: -blinks- You could send it to meh in an email. ^_^
Sawa: As soon as I finish it. :) So you met Ty?
Jade: -nods-
Sawa: Fan-fucking-tastic.
Jade: -smack- Don't be such a meanie- head.
Sawa: I'm beyond caring. I'm not going to pretend to like it just to keep you from being angry.
Jade: Then why the fuck did you ask?
Sawa: Because I like torturing myself, I thought everyone figured that out with Josiah?
Jade: Then don't ask me if you're going to be such an ass about it.
Sawa: Jealousy can't be well contained when it's this hot and burning.
Jade: Then take it out on something else. -raises a brow- >.<
Sawa: Misdirected anger does no more good that well directed anger.
Jade: -sighs- Why do you have to be angry with me because you're jealous of her?
Sawa: Oh, dearest, I am not jealous of her.
Jade: -shrugs- I have to go.
Sawa: As usual.
Jade: They get mad when I use the computer for too long at a time. Just fucking leave me alone.
Sawa: Enjoy her. Maybe you won't fuck it up this time.
Jade: ...I have nothing to say to you. I didn't mess up with Rebecca. She was the one who went wrong. You have no right to tell me I messed things up.
Sawa: I don't think I was talking to you as much as I was talking to me in a roundabout way.
Jade signed off at 11:54:34 AM.

That was pitiful.

The past the past the past the past the past. That's all I wish for anymore.

Josiah and his letters and his music, the songs that I listen to every single day, over and over. I'm bleeding for the times before he tore me off my small pedestal daily, hourly. There's condescension in every word he whispers or shouts or chokes out. He's better than everyone, only most people don't know it yet.

He's the destruction of and the building of and the actual empire itself in me. I had to talk to him for the past four months like he was dying. Because I was losing him. Because I'm not there, because I failed to deliver in the only way I could. She got in the way, she called it off because she has NO idea what makes me happy anymore. Pushing it away only made it so much harder, because that was the only effort I could make and it wasn't even my effort to begin with!

And now he's dead and the roles are reversing rapidly and I wish I could've.. done... ANYTHING. Anything at all. I'm clinging to one small piece of wreckage; he still talks to me. Very very infrequently. But it's enough to draw me back to the keyboard.

I always loved hearing about people's lives. Especially his. What they've been doing, who they've been doing it with, and why. Most of all, I like hearing their whys. Why him? Why her? Why this? Why do it that way? Where's the logic, show me the reasoning.

She will NEVER inspire him like I do. She is not his muse. He writes about me. Numerous times. ME. NOT YOU. ME.

All I ever wanted was his attention no matter what I had to say and now that things are the way they are I can't hold my tongue long enough for his current attentions to be anything but wicked.

I'm going to be the one that's screaming, "LEAVE ME ALONE!" long after everyone's left. The voices always weave their way back in. "Child, this wasn't your fault. You did what you could, and you bared yourself to someone and it ended like everyone told you it would. You've proven your bravery. Now go back inside and don't ever fucking come out again."

And here I am writhing in inner agony all over this poorly constructed and perverted electronic hole in the ground for my fucking angst.

Not like this is any different from any other day.

*sigh* ._.

Me:

To be honest...

...because I like you. (And not in that homosexual way; we all know how you feel about that.)

Don't toss it aside as flippant bullshit, I'm serious. I like you.

I can already tell what everyone is going to say about that. "Missy, don't believe her, she's the spawn of Satan. Remember what she did?" Well, just remember how it was before we parted on bad terms for the second time.

I don't stand in the shadows waiting to pounce. I merely like leaving you things I think you'd be interested in: songs, poems, excerpts from novels, whatever they may be.

I'm not out to get you. Really.

And if you won't accept it, if you honestly think I'm trying to disrupt you, walk away smiling with the knowledge that Josiah's left me.

---

Missy:

Re: To be honest...

every word feels like a possible attack, something pretty that must be harboring something more. harmful. deadly. come closer, she says, and let me touch you. & you look at her kittenish appearance and think: maybe... but you don't see the daggers concealed beneath those paws, razor sharp. and just when you go for that nervous embrace, it comes down upon you and leaves you gaping wide. open. bleeding.

well, thats how it feels. but then i wonder why i care if you were trying to hurt me. because i've come a long way, and the most you could accomplish is a simple muttering of, "bitch. i should have known. well, i knew.." and blocked access from comments. but why would you waste the time? that wouldn't satisfy your drama needs. too petty for you.

maybe rhea [Rhianon, from school. The one that failed miserably in the foreplay department.] was right. saying something along the lines of, "she makes you want to be her friend. so you do. and all the while you know that she's a little crazy and is going to do something.. but it still happens. and you're still her friend." over & over & over again.

maybe i would like you, too, but part of me won't allow it. because you're part of a time that has been erased and grown anew, and it's no use trying for something that isn't there, and now, never was.

what more is there to say.

---

Tch.

A little crazy.

Rhianon makes nothing out to be everything, and I wish people saw straight through it like Erick did last year.

I don't know, Missy's comments make my insides quiver like they do when I talk to Josiah. I don't get that.

(I'm sure everyone that reads this is going to triumphantly scream, "I told you so, you stupid girl," and smugly smirk when I return to school. Everyone was waiting for it, well here it is. He left me. Why? Because I couldn't stop what I threw into motion. I struck at my walls and expected no retaliation. Yes, Josiah. Those anguished screams were my prematurely mourning the loss of you.)

Hell, she even IMed me.

cellophane heart: and i, as usual, come wandering back out of curiosity.

But I was away. Playing Animal Crossing. Which is exactly what I should be doing right now, staying away from everyone.

Everything Josiah says is poison.

Oh, there is water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink.

Drifting we all are, apart and away. The tighter your hold, the faster the parting. Bondage ends for one, life begins for another, and I'm still here, itching to get out and join everyone else. And I don't want to call James, and hear all his questions, and force answers. I don't want him to ask how I am and keep this closeness that I don't know if I even share any longer.

I just want to write again. And be alone again. I want to make chow mein and eat while I watch the sun rise again. I want to cut out political cartoons and put them on my binder again. I want to draw designs on my hands and not get questions again. I want to be me again, with all the little me things I like again. I want to hide in my music again and be the silent B student again and I don't care if I have to give up these pithy conversations I fake again, I just want to be left alone.

Everyone lies or sharpens their tongue to maim anymore, what's the point. Hard looks and cold quips and inaccurate judgment. Fuck socializing. If people are going to be like this, I'd much rather it be just me and my cat and my new kitten, hiding in my blue room, lazing among the feathers and writing.

Another job application. This one's in the bag. Eight dollars an hour. Keeps me away from everyone I know. Keeps me alone. Safe. Docile.

Don't anger me. I've nothing to lose.

Sean: And why on Earth are you so hooked on him again?
Adrienne: When I was fourteen, I analyzed this entire thing. I didn't have anyone who could hurt me really at all, and here was this guy, this man I fancied who obviously liked me back. We clicked back then perfectly. He was worming his way inside, and I had a choice whether to stop it or let it happen. I thought about it for a month or so, knew he would be able to just crush me under his heel if he chose to, if I let this happen. And I didn't stop it.
Sean: Well I can see that. And somehow this is irreversable?
Adrienne: *shrugs slightly* I let him in. I can't make connections with people, I'm a bit too fucked up and you know what I mean. I'd rather cling to this empire than knock it down and build a new one, and I really can't think of anyone more worthy.
Sean: Even if you found this ever-so-worthy person, how would you know?
Adrienne: I wouldn't. I don't want to let anyone else in. Then I'd have to deal with two of them.
Sean: Exactly. Every time you encounter someone who's the best thing since Josiah, Be it Chris, Fencer, or Robbie, you end up pushing them away later.
Adrienne: Robbie?! HAH!
Sean: You're condemning yourself to misery.
Adrienne: No one's quite like him.
Sean: Well of course not, but that may not be a bad thing.
Adrienne: Sure, I find everyone that lacks his faults, but they have their own and I don't want theirs. So I'm tying myself to the lead weight and throwing myself off the bridge. I can't think of anything else I'd rather do.
Sean: Sooner or later you'll have to find someone else if you ever want to be really happy.
Adrienne: I've forgotten how to be happy.
Sean: Forgotten? Ha. It's like riding a bike, you may think you've forgotten, but try hopping onto one, it'll all come back.
Adrienne: Maybe I don't want to be happy.
Sean: You're contented to live your life mourning a relationship that was never all there to begin with?

....Oh my GOD, I used the wrong your. *fixes mistake frantically*

>.>

<.<

I LIKE MY VAGINA.

I don't feel like posting right now.

...*giggles*

I was just thinking to myself, "You know, maybe people don't know what the thing with me boxing that is." Well, when I get an idea for something else and I want to use something I've written prior, I draw a box around it. That's all.

I stayed up with Jew till 5:30 talking. I like doing that. Makes me smile. See? --> :)

I seriously need to do laundry, but I'm afraid I'll be beaten for it again. Because I "do it all wrong." The funny thing is I'm not kidding.

This I hate, more than anything.

Just came up with this off the top of my head:

And know this, dear reader, whom the dark adores.
You'll never heal those hidden sores.
The ones that keep you up at night.
The ones that tinge your thoughts with fright.
Inside that sinewed cage they'll stay.
They're buried there, to grin, and play
With all the fears welled up inside
And in waking nightmare you'll reside,
Till, in the end, they have their say,
And nights of sleep are ripped away.

This is for you.

You wanted this.
So sad to see the sweet decay of ecstasy.

And you want it all.

A frozen sun will guide you there,
As shadows hide the deep despair.

I'll give you something more and you'll fade away.
One last kiss before you fade away.

So sleep tonight in idle dreams.
The pain will drown your silent screams.

And you want it all.

I'll give you something more, and you'll fade away.
One last kiss before you fade away.
Lives you once adored will fade away.
Lies you can't ignore you soon repay as you fade away.

Got new shoes yesterday, forgot to mention that. Rockports, from Nordstrom. They're styled kinda after bowling shoes, and that makes me slightly concerned about whether my style might actually be going in one direction, because I also find myself with these shirts from Wet Seal, and I've never shopped there in my life. The shoes were $80. (Tanya took me downtown.) I had this strawberry scone at the espresso bar at Nordstrom, and a strawberry Nordic Freeze. Yesterday tasted really good.

The Vagina Monologues is tomorrow. I'll post a review or something.

No one knows what the fuck I'm talking about half the time and that's frustrating. I mean come on, everyone should know that Sartre was the only empiricist that also publicly claimed to be an existentialist. He was a selfish bastard and didn't care a thing for humanity or stupid people, which is why I like him so much.

Then again, maybe it's alright that things are this way, because talking philosophy only breeds endless argument because so many people come into the conversations looking to simply shove what they think is right on other people instead of contributing positively, or even learning from discussion. Like certain people I know that I refuse to even talk with at all anymore because if they do it while you're talking about theories, it's almost for sure that they do the same thing in everyday conversation. They also probably piss everyone off, which means it's not just you.

(Boxed for later use) One thing is throwing terms around that not everyone understands. There's multiple definitions to some words, and a lot of people think they know the definition when they don't. Spell it out so who whatever you're saying is directed at understands. Another thing is word choice. Few people use all the right words when talking. The words they misuse are misleading, convolute the entire point they're trying to make, and make both you and the person using the wrong words look like idiots, and unnecessarily waste breath. Precision of language, something hammered into people in The Giver from the time they first began to speak, is something a lot of people need to learn to embrace. Not precise in the way it was in The Giver. We're not literalists. I'm talking about using words in ways that other people will most likely understand them. IT'S GOOD WHEN PEOPLE ACTUALLY UNDERSTAND YOU.

See this thread for an example: http://forums.philosophyforums.com/showthread.php?threadid=853

(I always end up shouting at you people. That's odd.)

So.

I'm gonna go finish off my pepsi blue while I watch Ocean's Eleven for the fifteen trillionth fucking time.

Maybe someone with a brain can come and interrupt my tirades.

Luke: *runs past with Sloane on his back* OINK! OINK OINK OINK!
Vance: Oink, Luke! Oink like you MEAN IT!
Sawa: ...*peers*

Sawa: Kiss my ass, Wolf. O thou who can't even go one conversation without misspelling at least one word.
Sean: I'd love to kiss your ass, Fox, granted the opportunity. But I'm afraid you'll have to wait. You should be focusing on doing something right for a change, anyway.
Sawa: >:o
Sean: ^^
Sawa: You're an ass.
Sean: Oh you have -no- idea.

Chris: Guess who got a car? :D
Sawa: :O
Chris: I need theme music. there should be a song that plays every time I enter a room
Sawa: I'll work on that.
Chris: You're the best
Sawa: As always :D

Patrick: I had something meaningful to say. And it all slipped away.
Sawa: Think on it.
Patrick: It was probably just me obsessing over Shido, and that pleasant woman who works at Body Jewelry shop.
Sawa: Ah.
Patrick: I want to molest her pretty blue hair!
*ten minute lapse*
Patrick: Well, that was a conversation killer.
Sawa: Talk about something else. Like... Plato. Or Sartre.
Patrick: Damn.
Sawa: Be smart for once, please? Tell me you know what the Socratic method is. Tell me you know what Plato's utopia is like. Tell me you know who the empiricists are and which of them were known existentialists.
Patrick: I'm going to disappear for a while.

...*weeps*

IM me if you actually know what I was talking about and wouldn't mind discussing any of it. PLEASE. My AIM name's Paradox Lain. Just.. someone... anyone.... STOP MY BRAIN FROM ATROPHYING.

There's a computer in Darian's room (which has Warcraft III and SoF: Double Helix and other things on it), along with one of the N64s and the new Xbox (which I have managed to not come in physical contact with, thwarting Luke's many attempts to touch me with the controller!) and I was in there watching Josh and Luke and my brother play DOA3 and Halo. Because Tanya was on this computer then. So I sat down at the computer upstairs and had a conversation that went something like this:

Sawa: I think I'm going to play Warcraft III.
Everyone: Okay.

So I started playing... and couldn't stop.

Sawa: The overall gameplay is reminiscent of the entire slew of C+C games. I wonder if it's the same for every MMORPG. Seeing as how I don't play them, I wouldn't know.
Afton: What the hell are you talking about?
Fuuma: This is also reminiscent of what happened with Diablo II.
Sawa: ...But it's a good...game...
Lexan: Pffft.

Josh had left, for whatever reason, and I hadn't noticed. ("Good, the cute one stayed." DX)

Father: Adrienne, it's time for bed.
Sawa: *on own little planet*
Father: ...Adrienne.
Sawa: Dammit!
Father: Adrienne!
Sawa: Stupid humans killing my hero! Not... enough.... wisps....... GAH!!!
Father: Get off the computer.
Sawa: ...You're here?
Father: Off.
Sawa: *ignores*
Father: Off now.
Sawa: No.
Father: Go to bed.
Sawa: Did you go to bed at midnight when you were my age?
Father: Yes. Go.
Sawa: ...Nnno.
Father: >:
Sawa: :D
Father: Get out now.
Vance: Get out Adrienne.
Sawa: You'll all have to drag my dead body away.
Father: *picks her up and hauls her out*
Sawa: NNOOOOO!!! MY PRECIOUSSSSSS!!! *claws at walls*

...Okay, so it didn't go exactly like that, but you get the point: Warcraft III is pretty damn good. o.o

You make me come.
You make me complete.
You make me completely miserable.

Stuck to a chair, watching this story about me.
Everything goes by so fast, making my head spin.
Used up all of my friends,
but who needs them
when you mean everything?

Well I love the things that we should fear,
and I'm not afraid of being here.
So much the same.
It makes me helpless alone.

Nothing to share.
Why should I care,
if you're near me?
Give up all of my plans,
but who needs them
when you mean everything?

I love the things that we should fear,
and I'm not afraid of being here.
So much the same.
It makes me helpless alone.

You make me come.
You make me complete.
You make me completely miserable.

People in the house for the night:

Father
Tanya
Vance (14)
Josh (15)
Luke (14)
Myself (16)
Sloan (6)
Darian (6)

Ross: You Jewish?
Luke: Kind of.
Ross: ...You're a Jew.
Luke: No I'm not.
Vance: Glad we don't have AJ here.
Josh: Who's AJ?
Vance: Black friend who lives in Nevada.
Josh: You just had to throw that black part in at the beginning.
Ross: Of course he did.
Josh: Stop touching the walls, Luke.
Luke: Oh, sorry... *fake sobbing* I'm a Jewwwww...

...It's gonna be a long night.

...Don't flirt with them....Don't flirt with them.....Don't flirt with them.....

Slow walk.
It's a land mine.
It's a coal mine.
It's a bad thought.

Missy put the anonymous option for commenting back up. I feel so tumultuous right now. My like of her keeps me from tearing the beginnings of her new city down. There it is, I like her. She was always nice, and almost strong with my help. I just wanted to help her. Now I don't even want to touch her. Her words sting. She could eat me away like acid if she knew a single thing about the me that exists right now. I don't want her to be able to do that, I don't want anyone to be able to do that.

On the way to God don't know.
My brain's the burger and my heart's the coal.
I'm trying to get my head clear.
I push things out through my mouth and I get refilled through my ears.

*rubs her eyes* I do this all the time, make entries full of hate and fear and sorrow. I don't like how things are. I don't like how I am. Inadequacy abounds, nothing's ever good enough for anything. James fails me. My Wolf tries so hard and fails all the same. Jade... hah. Rely on her for anything besides fickle dislike and you'll be sorely disappointed. Those words will probably earn me a week's worth of arguing.

I hate showing people things I like sometimes. Most of the time it's all fine because whoever I have listen to a song or whatever hates it, and tells me so. Which makes me happy, because then I have something all to myself, like Modest Mouse. Even better sometimes when people refuse to listen/watch/know about it. But then I show people something like Gackt. Or Pokemon. Or DDR. Or Illusion of Gaia. Or fansubbed anime. And the one time they cave, the one time they try something, all of sudden they're obsessed and I'm incredibly disgusted with both myself and whatever it is I used to adore. I guess, in short, I hate it when people both like things more than me and have bettter access to it that I have. Selfish, I guess. I don't care. These things are what I'm comprised of, what makes me who I am, and I hate it when someone else claims ownership.

I'm on my way to God don't know or even care.
My brain's the weak heart and my heart's the long stairs.
Inland from Vancouver shores, the ravens and the seagulls
push each other inward and outward.

*sighs* I have music that plays over and over, and words that won't come out right. Three poems ruined by my bitter attitude. Downtown Seattle will heal me somewhat. But heal what? I don't even know what's broken.

June 2004 is coming quickly, and all there is inside is butterfly-burdened anticipation. Preparing and very very slowly packing, planning for being out and alone to go where I want. I was thinking I might go to California first. I like it down there.

In this place that I call home,
my brain's the cliff and my heart's the bitter buffalo.
We tore one down and erected another there.
The match of the century: Absence vs. Thin Air.

I don't want to get rid of this empire. I like this place. It has a history to it. It's Taisa and Sawa. I know it's not going anywhere. I know, a long time from now, I'll have the chance I'm waiting for. This is what makes me anxious. It all engulfs my every thought. I can barely remember to put one foot in front of the other. Everything I do is preparing for this one moment. One moment to be great. One moment to do things right.

There's one thing that scares me, though. If this is really going to happen, why haven't I dreamt about it yet? Where's the premonition?

On the way to God don't know.
My brain's the burger and my heart's the coal.
In this life that we call home,
the years go fast and the days go so slow.

Guest blogging. He got the ages wrong. And I'm not going to explain. I don't even think I can without telling everyone Sawa's Elusive Past, and I like my skeletons deep in their closets. Away from everyone, including me.

Things to do today:
+ More scone/Godiva hot cocoa.
+ Shower.
+ Downtown Seattle.

Paul stopped by last night and gave me a gift card to Barnes & Noble. ^^ He's so sweet.

Berserk is good. The sexual tension between Griffin and Guts makes me want to giggle, especially in episode three where Griffin had a water fight with him naked. :) And the outtakes rival those on the Weiss Kreuz DVDs. Aaanyway. I have to get going. I wanna get to Seattle as soon as I can. So, jaa. :D

Hmm......Hello, My name is V. 'm Adrienne's Little Brother. I would like to talk to you about drugs..oh wait, that's the wrong topic. Oh Yeah, i don't have a topic. So i will rant about People who love my sister. I will start my list with one person, we will call him Subject "A". Being as their name starts with "A", it is very fitting. I have known this person since The 3Rd Grade. i first suspected he was falling in love with my sister when he Wouldn't stop Looking at her Big Round *******. Her ******* were his obsession. Then when we grew up and intrest started to cook in the Girl section, his love increased more. Then right around 7th grade Subject "A" moved to Arizona. This is the story of Subject "A".

Now Another person was subject "B". Subject "B" was a California Boy who was shy and small. I knew him right around the age of 11. Yes me and him were good friends playing MGS and playing with action figures. But then something came between us. My sister. My friend, seeing my sister, was quite intrested. He started to want to come to my house more often then me going to his house. He was 3 or 4 years older then me so of course my sister looked like good prey for a girl. So One day he came over and i started noticing that he wanted to hang out with my Sister AND me. At first it was ok then it went to far. But then when i turned 12 we moved. This was the en of our story for Subject "B".

Are Last Subject we shall call subject "C". Subject "C" was a friend of mine who smoked a lot of pot. But me being 12 at the time didn't realize what pot was. Me and him hung out alot seing as how he lived right behind, and yes, i mean right behind me. I would spend the night at his house and we would go to Blockbusters at like 12:00Am. But then one day he came over and met my sister. Just about a week after, like clockwork, he wnated to spend the night with some friends that i knew. My mom sayed yes so they spent the night. But then they got the idea to play "truth or dare" or something lke that. So then i find Subject "C" under the pull out couch bed talking to my sister and trying to make out with her. I guess she blew him off which is prety smart on her part. But a half year or so later we moved. THis is my story about Subject "C".

I would like to thank the Slim few that read This. This is actuallt pretty serious on my part. So i hoped you enjoyed it.

How about getting off of these antibiotics?
How about stopping eating when I'm filled up?
How about them transparent dangling carrots?
How about that ever elusive kudo?

How about me not blaming you for everything?
How about me enjoying the moment for once?
How about how good it feels to finally forgive you?
How about grieving it all one at a time?

The moment I let go of it was the moment I got more than I could handle.
The moment I jumped off of it was the moment I touched down.

How about no longer being masochistic?
How about remembering your divinity?
How about unabashedly bawling your eyes out?
How about not equating death with stopping?

*sighs*

Josiah... AGH. I hate how this blog is no longer semi-private. The gigantic downfall of every online journaling service everywhere.

...I just spilled my oil all over my keyboard... OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE. *scrub scrub scrub scrub* I'm going to go... *scrub scrub* ...write in my secret journal... *scrub scrub scrub* ...away from all of YOU.... *scrub scrub* ....FUCKING OIL EVERYWHERE JEBUS CHRIST....... *runs away sobbing*

YAGH OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG

Kite.... *twitch* Mezzo Forte, from the makers of Kite, from animation studio and the director, from Green Bunny... GAAAAH.... *twitch*......must have.....MUST HAVE.....MUSTHAVEMUSTHAVEMUSTHAVE *explodes*

I am Umetsu Yasuomi's super ultra mega biggest fan ever AND I MUST HAVE THIS ANIME. Sawa. Makes. A. Cameo. MUST HAVE MUST HAVE MUST HAVE.

Edit:


Which Awkward Gackt Moment are You?

....*fapfapfapfapfapfapfapfap*

I make out okay each year (and by okay I mean better than anyone else I know), laughing at those less fortunate because it makes me feel a little better about paying that high price for all this shit everyone's jealous over. Let's take a look so far.

+ A complete Chinese black/white betsheet set
+ An issue of Animerica
+ Two Fiore sets from China
+ Random mess of expensive facial/hair care stuff
+ Assload of makeup (why? WHY?!)
+ Toe tattoos
+ Red pajama set from Old Navy (performance fleece, oo it's fine)
+ Gameboy Advance/carrying thingy
+ Legend of Zelda for GBA
+ Korean lipglosses
+ Card for Blockbuster
+ Bead kit thing (prerequisite for each Christmas. god damned gender biased gifts.)
+ 2-disc Metropolis DVD including behind the scenes stuff and Osamu Tezuka's bio (!!!)
+ Small soft teddy bear
+ Two pairs of earrings
+ Two Chinese shirts from Wet Seal
+ Port tennis shirt from Nordstrom (that was allll Beth)
+ Jammies set from Disneyland (the evil queen from... Sleeping... Beauty... I think...)
+ Fossil contact set (o.O)
+ $50 bill from Lindsey
+ Aroma candle-y thing
+ Patent leather Curfew slip-on heels (from Tanya. Of course.)
+ SSX Tricky :D
+ Animal Crossing :D:D:D
+ Pocky
+ Two more controllers for the GC
+ Charm bracelet
+ The entire DVD set of Berserk
+ Robbie got kicked out of his house and remains jobless and computerless

And there's more, but one, I can't remember what; it's at my mum's house, and two, I made plans with four other people to have mutually deliberately late presents. So... yep. I have a party to get back to.

Merry Christmas.

Christmas is supposed to be a happy time for everyone. A time where the smell of capitalism rises from stores like Nordstrom to enchant the Jesus part of this holiday out of minds everywhere. The money and eggnog flow freely, cookies and other sweets are devoured at rates unmatched on any other holiday, and there are millions of articles out there to be read, interpreted, and regurgitated at your next cup of coffee with the girls.

Not that I'm complaining.

If you'll excuse me, I have a raspberry scone to eat, Godiva hot cocoa to drink, and a party to prepare for.

I'm here and I don't want to be I hate Christmas SOMEONE PLEASE MAKE IT STOP LET ME SLEEP FOR LONGER THAN THREE HOURS. Stop talking. Stop looking at me. Stop expecting an answer.

She's leaving tomorrow and I care so much for her and she doesn't care. It was never about me. It's always about her, that's how she has it and that's how she wants it. That sliver in my palm makes me want to hold back.

Well, so what? So I have music, which has been nothing but everything I've heard before, and writing, which I can barely do anymore, and people so close, people in my bubble, breathing on my face and smiling and telling me to give up and that they won't hold it against me. You're just here to make sure I'm okay, right? Never cared a single fucking thing for him. I'M NOT GIVING UP. I'M NOT LETTING GO, I DON'T WANT TO. There's time enough to see where the dice will fall. And even if they fall unfavorably, I'd tear everything I've built down just to have a moment of his time. I hate all of this replacement bullshit. YOU CAN'T REPLACE HIM, SAWA.

At least I'm not fooling myself. I'm on the back burner. And I'm so tired.

Wear myself out talking to James, blathering about nothing like I would to him, and eating his attraction up as if it were enough to fill me. "You're so cute, Sawa. Dammit all to Hell that you're 16. Let's talk abou sex like we always do. It perversely excites me to tell you how I use my tongue ring. Is that you masturbating I hear?" You were wrong, Josiah. He wants me like all the rest, and there's never anyone to fall back on.

Always avoiding the problems, everyone is. Me included. Ignore it and it'll go away?

I've said enough. This delirium I'm caught up in right now is wearing my walls thin. Even my time with Trevor did nothing to sate this wildness fueling me. No one around me is strong enough to dull the edge of reality under my skin.

God help you all if I don't feel better by tomorrow.

You don't know how you took it.
You just know what you got.
Oh Lordy, you've been stealing
from the thieves, and you got caught.
In the headlights of a stretch car you're a star.

Dressing like your sister.
Living like a tart.
They don't know what you're doing.
Babe, it must be art.
You're a headache in a suitcase. You're a star.

Oh no, don't be shy.
You don't have to go blind.
Hold me, thrill me, kiss me, kill me.

You don't know how you got here.
You just know you want out.
Believing in yourself almost as much as you doubt.
You're a big smash. You wear it like a rash. Star.

Oh no, don't be shy.
There's a crowd to cry.
Hold me, thrill me, kiss me, kill me.

They want you to be Jesus. They'll go down on one knee.
But they'll want their money back if you're alive at thirty-three.
And you're turning tricks with your crucifix. You're a star.

Oh, child.
Of course you're not shy.
You don't have to deny love.
Hold me, thrill me, kiss me, kill me.

Two new... whatevers.

Twenty-eight.
Twenty-nine.

Missa: where's my "I LUFF MELISSA" one? >:o
Sawa: You don't get one. CAUSE YOU'RE CHEATING ON ME
Missa: o.o;;;;;; o_o AM NOT. I WAS DRUNK >:o
Sawa: YOU DON'T WANNA MARRY JUST ME! YOU POLYGAMIST!
Missa: DON'T USE THOSE BIG WORDS!!!!!11 I NEVER TOOK GEOMETRY!!!

I'm like a beggar with no luck.
I'm holding signs up on
your streetcorner stops.
Like most, you try not to see me.
You stare straight ahead,
ignore the responsibility.

Excuse me.
Well, I've been waiting in line,
and I'd like to buy some of your time.
I'm very anxious, eager, willing.
What's your billing?

So please excuse me, mister,
you've got things all wrong.
You make it feel like a crime.
So don't confuse me, mister,
I've know you too long.
All I need is a little of your time.

For most love comes for free.
They don't pay the high cost
of mental custody.
I'll pay bail for a guarantee.
Make space for me
in the time yet to be.

Excuse me.
Well, I've been waiting in line,
and I'd like to buy some of your time.
I've been saving up my life.
What's your price?

So please excuse me, mister,
you've got things all wrong.
You make it feel like a crime.
So don't confuse me, mister,
I've know you way too long for this.
All I need is a little of your time.

What should I do?
I'm about to crack,
and there's a force that comes over for me.
It's almost as if I'm tied to the tracks.
I'm waiting for him to rescue me.
The funny thing is he's not going to come.
He's not going to find me.
This is a matter of fact.
The desire you lack.
This is the way I guess it has to be.

A little of your time.
I need a little of your time.
Please, a little of your time.

So please excuse me, mister,
you've got things all wrong.
You make it feel like a crime.
So don't confuse me, mister,
I've know you way too long for this.
All I need is a little of your time.

I'm in line to buy time.
I'm in line to buy time.

Justin: I have a story for you, told from the perspective of someone with an uninteresting and pointless story, who, despite all evidence to the contrary, believes their story to be both fascinating and worthy of discussion. Yesterday I was reading yer blog, and it said that people in 800x600 could view it. I was in 800x600, and I could see it. Sadly you'd planted the seed of doubt in my mind. So I checked, firm in the belief that I was indeed in 800x600. As it turned out I was in 1024x768.

Jade: -wails- Jeeaaansss
Sawa: Come over and get them.
Jade: I can't drive. Dummy. :p
Sawa: *shrugs and smiles*
Jade: And my mom wouldn't be able to find your house. GIVE ME MY JEANS OR ELSE
Sawa: I CAN'T I'M WEARING THEM :O *runs*
Jade: NO SHIT. -growl- You are NOT wearing my jeans. You are NOT. NOTNOTNOT! -possesive- No FUCKING way
Sawa: *giggles like school girl*
Jade: -screams in frustration- I'm serious....don't wear my clothes..-whines-
Sawa: You're right, I'm not. :) But I could be. Your shirt too, even. You're my size XD
Jade: Phew. No!
Sawa: *rubs her shirt against her face* Mmmmm.... fabric softenerrrrr.....
Jade: Nuh uh. Yer too much boobs and hips. I'm a STICK. A STICK. A normal person wouldn't FIT in my clothes.
Sawa: I tried. And I fit.
Jade: -whack- STOP THAT. Stop molesting my poor shirt.
Sawa: So don't pawn it off as you being too THIN. I have hips like a little BOY.
Jade: No. Too much of a stick.. Oh. -shrugs- Well I have no ass.
Sawa: Got that right. :O
Jade: DON"T WEAR MY FUCKING CLOOOTHESS
Sawa: *cackles*
Jade: -greedy bitch-
Sawa: I can't just run them over there. No one's hooooome.
Jade: I know. Well..later. Later.
Sawa: I don't know about later, I don't know when my mum'll be home.
Jade: Well. At least before I leave for Texas.
Sawa: Definitely. We could just hide in your suitcase. Me, your shirt and your jeans.
Jade: lol

*bounces* Jade makes me happy almost like Josiah. :)

All of you must download Modest Mouse - Gravity Rides Everything. Right now. Go. Now. Go.

"Friends, we believe that Santa exists for those who believe in him. Now friends, we know what you’re thinking. ‘What about all those Chinese people who don’t know about Santa? Don’t they deserve gifts at Christmas?’ True, and that’s why we’ve created outreach programs, to enrich their souls with gentle lessons about eight tiny reindeer and the soft belly jiggle of a man they call St. Nick. No one knows the holiday’s true meaning until they have looked into the desperate, beady eyes of an atheist and taught him how to string bubble lights or wrap a tricky spherical gift.

You may wonder, ‘What about the poor people in America? They believe in Santa. How come they get shafted?’ All right, that’s a good point, we haven’t gotten around to that, but we figure the whole eight-tiny-reindeer lesson might do the trick. It is very heartwarming.

You ask, ‘But what about Hitler? Why did he rake in the gifties?’ Jesus H. Christ, it always comes down to Hitler with you people. Hitler Hitler Hitler. We don’t KNOW about Hitler. Listen, if Santa doesn’t exist, then who guides the sleigh? Who brings the presents? Us?!? Do you think humans could pull off something so hugely impressive as Christmas? No freaking way.

If Santa doesn’t exist, I’d like to know who inspired the outlandish Bill Murray vehicle Scrooged or those claymation specials on TV. If Santa doesn’t exist, why did I just teach a child, withered by disease, to make the perfect wassail? Friends, Santa exists. And you can either believe in him, and get your iPod and your cheese logs and your little happy consumer widgets, or you can spend the rest of your life in shivering, agonizing giftless-ness. The choice is up to you."

me <3 The Morning News

I have half of Sean's Christmas present, and an idea for Alana's, and I've nearly begun looking for James'. I'm doing pretty well this year. :)

My mum's taking me out to go see The Two Towers at 4. I guess it'll be alright, I haven't seen a movie in a while and I like the popcorn they have at movie theatres.

I know what half of my Christmas presents. XD I'm such a little cheater. *huggles Gameboy Advance*

And I also get ANIMAL CROSSING! :D I love games like this. I love games period. I don't play enough. You silly people keep me online too much. And maybe I can get them to buy Pikmin too!

<3 <3 <3

SHIT. I'm sorry. I just really can't do this. Not now. FUCK! Sitting here in this room is the last thing I want to do right now. I want someone to talk to but there is only the din of raging static in my head. Only this noise of mine never leaves me.

We're told to accept the fact that life goes on, and that nothing is forever, nothing, but I don't want to accept this! I don't want to see it all as just a dead thing before it dies! I HAD SOMETHING! I had something beautiful! The world still spun around in all its arbitrary fury, but I had something to hold tight to! Something beautiful!

AND I FUCKED IT UP! I did exactly what I never wanted to do! I turned it into something cold and weary! Now, screaming in fear, I hold tighter and it squirms away, pushing me off!

And the faster I run to catch it, to hold it, the faster it runs to escape, the more it recoils from my touch. Dreaming of a world that has stopped dreaming of me. Going away, driven by the more desirable idea of NEW DREAMS. And I don't seem to be accepting it.

AND I DON'T WANT TO ACCEPT! I DON'T WANT TO GET USED TO LOSING THE FEW THINGS THAT MAKE ME FEEL! I SAW THE FILTH, BUT I HAD SOMETHING!

And the noise in my head, with all its voices, repeats one thing, incessantly, more than anything else--"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. DON'T LET GO OF ME NOW. Dream of me. Don't let me wake up."

But I know that it is only noise.

*lets the air out in a rush and stills her breathing for a few moments, looking down*

My day... I woke up. Took a hot shower. Wrote a few more things on my list. Mum took me out shopping.

I got peach juice, and ramen, and chow mein, and pocky. And I had tofu udon, and eel and tuna sushi for lunch. I made an ass of myself playing DDR MAX 2 for the first time by failing on the first song. Look at Us, by Sarena Paris. I hate those hold steps.

Pff.

We went to Hot Topic a little while later, where I got the coldest chain for my wallet, and two Johnny the Homicidal Maniac comics (numbers one and four, for those of you who know what that is), from which that beginning outpour of ache came.

I had my Got Root? shirt on. The cute guy who works at one of the three Hot Topics I frequent was helping me with the piercing stuff. He is the first person to know what my shirt meant without my having to explain it. I love him.

They didn't have the ring nor the capture bead I wanted; most of their Invader Zim stuff was already gone, and all they had bead-wise were flames, or an Atticus star. I want to get the second ring done this break (since I'm not too keen on running around in skool with half of my lip swollen), and since Steve has his job, I'm sure I could at least set in stone the ability to get lip ring number two of three, if not a particular date.

Pain is my sanctuary. Mm.

I can't write for the novel, everything just comes out surprisingly dark, like turning the faucet on in a rundown apartment and expecting clear water. That's what I feel like. Brokedown palace. Shell of shadows. (Black. Doom. Grr.)

And my nails (all twenty) are mockingly electric blue. I like that.

HAH! You people on 800x600 can't look at my blog. You have to put it on a higher resoluuutioooon! No one should have their monitor on 800x600 all the time. 's preposterous.

PREPOSTEROUS.

That's today's word.

Paradox Lain: I'm putting the picture up.
Paradox Lain: :O
Paradox Lain: ...No reaction.
J Yuka Yuy: NOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooo.....
Paradox Lain: *does so* :O
J Yuka Yuy: NOOOOOOOOOOO
Paradox Lain: YOU CANNAH STOP MEEEEEE
J Yuka Yuy: AGH.
J Yuka Yuy: I'm going.
J Yuka Yuy: :p
J Yuka Yuy: I HATE YOUUU.
Paradox Lain: ;D
J Yuka Yuy: I hate you.
J Yuka Yuy: For EVER.
J Yuka Yuy: and EVER.
J Yuka Yuy: and EEEEVERRRR.
Paradox Lain: No, I won't.
Paradox Lain: All mine. MINE. *hoards pictures*
J Yuka Yuy: -stikcs out tongue- BYE THEN.
J Yuka Yuy signed off at 9:48:36 AM.

*sigh* : 3

...I wish I could share all of this with Josiah. :\

Glass etching:



's a butterfly. BUTTERFLY. :D We used this kind of paste stuff, so it's all uneven and thin in places, but I like it just how it is. Like most things.

I have this tradition on my mum's side of the family in which every Christmas I steal baby jesus from her porcelain naitivety scene. (Gods know why we have it up, she's certainly not christian.) So I hide it somewhere about the house, and then have free reign to run around screaming "I STOLE BABY JESUS! I STOLE BABY JESUS!" The nice thing about tradition is you don't have to think about why you're doing what you're doing. It's tradition.

I'm sure James finds that absolutely hilarious. :)

There's this sticker on my monitor that begins with "PUSH THE BUTTON" in big letters, so I'm going to cut the rest off and put that part on something. Probably my forehead. Ah, inanity. That glorious thing from which all other things flow.

I just noticed something. (Well, by just noticing, I mean noticed it a good two months ago, but that's besides the point/neither here nor there/irrelavent/et cetera.) Everything is someone's idea. You're sitting on someone's idea right now. You shit in someone's idea. You eat people's ideas, you drink people's ideas, you drive on people's ideas, you sleep in people's ideas. You sleep with people's ideas. You're looking every moment at someone's ideas. Even if it's a tree or something. The tree wasn't someone's idea to create, per se, but it was their idea to have it there. The only reason everything's the way it is is because it was someone's idea to have everything there. And I'm not talking just One Person i.e. your preposterous christian god. I mean a lot of someones. The human race chose these things to be here. We made our own bed, and, quite rightly so, are now laying in it.

What the blue hell am I doing awake right now?

Methinks I've annoyed him to the point where he just doesn't want to hear anything I say at all. Which is rather silly. He's the one that's changed so irrelavently, and gone to great lengths to get nowhere at all. So I just shrug my shoulders and wait till he has a brief period of sensibiliy.

"My manner of thinking, so you say, cannot be approved. Do you suppose I care? A poor fool indeed is he who adopts a manner of thinking for others! My manner of thinking stems straight from my considered reflections; it holds with my existence, with the way I am made. It is not in my power to alter it; and were it, I'd not do so. This manner of thinking you find fault with is my sole consolation in life; it alleviates all my sufferings in prison, it composes all my pleasures in the world outside, it is dearer to me than life itself. Not my manner of thinking but the manner of thinking of others has been the source of my unhappiness. The reasoning man who scorns the prejudices of simpletons necessarily becomes the enemy of simpletons; he must expect as much, and laugh at the inevitable."

- The Marquis de Sade

I've begun a list of one hundred things that I like. Not just things to fill the list, not just things that I only sometimes like. Things I always like, and always will like.

So far I have four things.

Scratch that. Five.

New layouts make me smile because the newest one is always better than everything previous.

Cable's back up. (Woo.) Got a new monitor. (Woo.) But the speakers don't work. (Fsck.)

Sean: Long time no see, Fox. --Kisses your cheek-- I was beginning to get worried. =p
Sawa: I was out doing my part for society.
Sean: I'm not sure I want to ask just how -you- define that. But curiosity overrides my better judgement this time.
Sawa: I participated in Adopt-a-Family by helping deliver the presents. I wanted to see the reaction. So I guess I didn't do it for them, but for me. But anyway.
Sean: Ah. You and charity don't really match.
Sawa: No, I didn't think so either. If you aren't able to stand on your own damn feet, you probably shouldn't be able to.

That Adopt-a-Family family... holy jebus. I can't even accurately describe it. Inside, it was smoky and cloying and damp and wet and heavy. The kids were overweight, the TWO YEAR OLD was overweight. The mother was overweight. And smoked like a chimney in the dead of winter. I couldn't stand to be in that apartment. It felt different than anything I've ever felt in relation to atmosphere. Not what I expected.

How can poor people afford to keep themselves and their offspring overweight? I don't get that. Maybe it's that when they do get money, they buy all the bad things you can eat.

It was awkward and everyone felt it. We left quickly.

I talked to Watling on the way to my house, about my parents and moving around and the differences between Riverside and Auburn High. I hope she understands a bit better and isn't so standoffish with me in class. -_-

This is how I feel right now. Sulking. I've been sulking all week. Someone give me a reason not to.

I didn't realize just how bad those pictures were. XD

Oh well.

Anyway, yeah. My cable's out, who knows when it'll be back up. I'm blogging from sixth period. If the cable IS back up today, then I won't be on till 4 or so. Running the presents with a few friends to our 4th period Adopt-a-Family people. Get to see their happy faces when they find out we bought them twice the amount of stuff they asked for and more. :D:D:D

Glass etching rules. I'll snap a picture of mine later.

Uh... there's more, but I'm pressed for time. Talk to you all later. ^^

JADE. OMG JADE. :D:D:D



Evil. :)



Lounging. IN MY SHIRT. :O



*mwah*



OMG IT'S MEEEEE. (In-joke. :D)



...More Jade. Because we love Jade. WEEEE LURRRRVE JAAAADEEEEE.... *falls over*

Now for the fondue. Mweheheheh. :D

I've rekindled my relationship with Pineapple Fanta, and I must say it's a good one. :)

Sawa: *sits in his lap* I hate everything.
Chris: why do you hate everything?
Sawa: Because boys are stupid.
Chris: Am I stupid?
Sawa: Are you a boy?
Chris: No. I'm a creature of the darkness. :)
Sawa: Then no. :)

I slept from four or so to eight. I think. And it was good, but I crashed in my sweater and jeans, so I overheated a bit. :\ But other than that.... Mmm.... sweet reality avoiding sleeeeep....

Everything happens on thursday this week. Everything.

+ Black Thursday in US History. (Insider trading rawks.) What this means for me: not buying any stock that day and laughing as everyone else's falls rapidly. :D
+ Glass etching lab in Chemistry starts. Woo.
+ Letters to ourselves/timelines in Psych due. My letter to my future self is already a page long and I haven't even got past Josiah and how much my past self is going to kick my future self in the ass if I screw anything else up. :\ Last book summary thing's also due.
+ First period food project thing due, with Jade. Yay for food day.
+ Geometry test. (Fuck.)
+ Something important in American Lit, I forgot.

Got a fucking 58 on my fucking Geometry test. Fuck fuck fuck. Have to go in and retake it on my own time. Stupid fucking cunt teacher from hell. Die. >:

*Josiah jumps in* It's not the teacher's fault you're failing the class. You shouldn't be so childish et cetera and own up to your actions blah blah blah something about how I should stop being so mean and then jumps in about the boy or something else that he thinks I'm being weird about.

Or something like that.

Oh, I know how it goes. This happens all the damned time. Makes talking to him like eating aluminum foil.

Wash it down with some mercury, eh? Set your veins on fire.

*head hits desk*

Oh, that man.

Come shove the sun aside.

Keith gives me ideas on how to busy myself.

I have no will to do anything, and I hate how this feels like being tied to someone who could care less who is needing him in every way as long as there's anyone that does.

Tied to the wall. Held... hostage.

So he's in Florida. Permanently or just getting a feel for it, I don't know.

Hm.

I forgive you.

Paradox Lain: WHY?!
Daigo Kazama 7: Hn?
Paradox Lain: Why do I continue to EXIST?!
Daigo Kazama 7: Because I need a good fuck every so often?
Daigo Kazama 7: What's the problem?
Paradox Lain: nothing.
Daigo Kazama 7: Well there has to be something to parade around questioning your sentience
Paradox Lain: **CENSORED**
Daigo Kazama 7: That's a shame.
Paradox Lain: FUCK LOVE
Paradox Lain: GET IT OUT OF ME
Paradox Lain: GET IT OUT
Paradox Lain: GET IT OUT
Paradox Lain: GET IT OUT
Paradox Lain: *claws at eyes*
Daigo Kazama 7: It's not like a stomach pumping, A-chan.
Paradox Lain: why not? ;_;
Daigo Kazama 7: --Holds your hands in his own, blinking--
Paradox Lain: **CENSORED**
Daigo Kazama 7: Why not? Because love is here --Hold his forehead against yours--
Paradox Lain: *sulks* i hate boys.
Daigo Kazama 7: Aww, but I love -you,- Fox.
Daigo Kazama 7: Regardless of your little....quirks.
Paradox Lain: ...what's wrong with my quirks Wolf.
Daigo Kazama 7: Ehm.....nothing...?
Paradox Lain: .... >:
Daigo Kazama 7: Hee. Just kidding, A-chan.
Paradox Lain: ...... >:
Daigo Kazama 7: --Releases your hands-- Awww....You're not laughing
Daigo Kazama 7: Would you like me to go through some of your "quirks?"
Paradox Lain: yes.
Paradox Lain: well?
Daigo Kazama 7: Well, for one, this attatchment to Josiah. I'd rather you date a brick than him. Second is the fact that you're EVIL! PURE EVIL! You speak languages that you know I won't understand, like Japanese, or languages I just hate, like leet.
Daigo Kazama 7: You USED to moan when I was trying to get work done, which was quite rude.
Daigo Kazama 7: Lessee....You never LISTEN to my advice after asking for it.
Paradox Lain: That's all?
Daigo Kazama 7: I do believe so, if that's all I can remember. See? Nothing to get upset over. =p
Paradox Lain: Nope. :)
Daigo Kazama 7: Ha. Made ya smile.
Paradox Lain: *licks*
Daigo Kazama 7: --Licks your tongue-- Love you too. ^^
Paradox Lain: i rub off on you so much it's cute : 3
Daigo Kazama 7: Indeed. You're just a bad influence. I should stay away from you.

me <3 sean.

Steve's got a new job. :)

Christmas won't suck after all.

And he even bought a new fondue set x.x

Jade, we're going to get a fucking A.

(You're in that box, rest assured.)

Josiah doesn't read this. So let's get it out now.

I HATE THIS SO MUCH AND I DON'T KNOW WHY I EVER BOTHER. IT PAINS ME INFINITELY TO GO THROUGH THIS DAY AFTER DAY. BUT I STILL DO IT. BECAUSE I LOVE YOU. THIS IS WHAT IT IS TO ME RIGHT NOW, SUFFERING OTHERWISE INTOLERABLE PAIN BECAUSE I LOVE YOU AND THIS IS ALL I CAN DO FOR YOU RIGHT NOW, HANG FROM THE CEILING BY MY WRISTS AND LET YOU GET ALL THAT ANGER OUT AND BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF ME.

I KNOW I WAS WRONG SOMEWHAT ABOUT THE BOY, BUT SO WERE YOU. YOU DIDN'T KNOW ALL THE DETAILS, AND I HATE THIS ARGUING WITH YOU WHEN I'M JUST TRYING TO TALK AND MAYBE HAVE YOU LISTEN A BIT. THAT'S ALL I EVER WANTED, WAS FOR YOU TO CARE ABOUT WHAT'S COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH AND NOT DELIBERATELY ENFORCING YOUR "LOGIC ABOVE ALL" POLICIES ON ME. SOMETIMES EMOTION IS OKAY. SOMETIMES IT'S ALRIGHT IF YOU FEEL SOMETHING, ANYTHING AT ALL. EVEN IF IT MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE. NOT EVERYTHING HAS TO MAKE SENSE.

YOU DON'T FUCKING TRUST ME BECAUSE IN THE PAST, GOOD SIR, IN THE PAST I WASN'T TRUSTWORTHY. NEVERMIND WHAT I AM NOW, NEVERMIND WHO YOU ARE NOW, JUST SHRED EVERYTHING AND BOUNCE BETWEEN DESTRUCTIVE RAGE AND WEAK ATTEMPTS AT STITCHING A LIFE TOGETHER. WHY? BECAUSE YOU CAN'T EVEN FUCKING DECIDE. YOU'RE THE ONE THAT CAN'T DECIDE NOW, JOSIAH. YOU.

You are the only.. only thing that ever pushes me anywhere near tears. Not even death, not anything can come near your power. You are the weakness, you know it. It's inside you. I don't want to be an enigma to you. I want you to know me. And I'll only forget you if you want me to, so just say the word and I'll fade.

It's so hard dealing with everyone all at the same time, and for once I'm saying something. THIS REALLY FUCKING HURTS, OKAY? And me saying anything about my own pain and my own sins won't happen again for a long time.

...I saw the ocean today. Overcast and cold and windy. It blows my hair around just so, just right. The tide is in, and the waves are big and frothing.

And it is exactly like you'd want it.

I would take a million pictures for you, but I haven't my camera with me. So I write your name in the sand with my finger, where the edges of the waves can touch it. I hope you can feel the water. It's so cold. Wonderfully cold. Beautiful creams and blue-grays. And salty, so salty. Perfect ocean. Perfect everything.

*catches a drop in her hand* And she cries. Damn. *crushes it and stands* I have to go.

Here, Jade, let me break it down for you.

Paradox Lain: Greetings from Oregon.
Petit Violiniste: -raises brows-
Petit Violiniste: You know. Julie told me about how were talking about how "big and stupid" I was. Then Rhiannon up and said, "Actually, no, she's just little and stupid." She turned pale as can be after that and clapped her hands over her mouth. I just laughed and said "Maybe I am."
[My reaction: ...Uh...okay. Why the hell is she telling me this?]
Paradox Lain: Tee hees.
Paradox Lain: No, really, I'm in Oregon.
Petit Violiniste: Uh huh.
[...Why would I lie?]
Petit Violiniste: -acts all big and stupid-
Paradox Lain: ...
[...And why the hell is she stuck on what they said?]
Petit Violiniste: I'm not exactly in a good mood. Argh.
Paradox Lain: *patpat*
Petit Violiniste: Oh well. I'm going to the OURS concert.
Petit Violiniste: -smiles smugly-
Paradox Lain: super.
[What, do you want me to be jealous so it feels even better knowing you're going?]
Petit Violiniste: I was about to soil myself when i found out they were coming here.
Petit Violiniste: Yeess.
Petit Violiniste: I joined the street team and everything.
Petit Violiniste: -twitch-
Petit Violiniste: I might go off to draw the trademark O symbol on my arms and hands! : D
Petit Violiniste: -takes a few breaths- Lord God. I must be going crazy. -yawns- Too many things at once. I swear.
Paradox Lain: *looks at her for a moment*
[That's...um....okay.]
Petit Violiniste: -gazes levelly in return-
Petit Violiniste: What.
[...Oh, fuck sanity. Let's act in equivalence and see her reaction.]
Paradox Lain: *coos*
Paradox Lain: *runs in circles flapping her arms like wings*
Petit Violiniste: -rolls her eyes-
Petit Violiniste: Oi.
Paradox Lain: precisely.
Petit Violiniste: -sighs softly-
Paradox Lain: mm hmm, that one too
Petit Violiniste: I just don't understand you. But I don't think I should.
Petit Violiniste: You don't understand me either. That's good.
[At least I'm trying.]
Paradox Lain: if i ever explain, you'll just get mad.
Petit Violiniste: I know. Your motives and your personality drive me crazy.
Petit Violiniste: Not exactly in the good way, either.
Paradox Lain: wonder why.
Petit Violiniste: I have reasons.
Petit Violiniste: Agh.
Paradox Lain: i could give a fuck. nothing's much of anything if no one knows why the hell anything is happening.
Petit Violiniste: "When you get together with Jade, you can't spend more than forty minutes with her without her going off on who she hates."
Petit Violiniste: ^I could agree.
Paradox Lain: who cares what you could do, what do you do
Petit Violiniste: -lets out an annoyed sound- It was another way of phrasing it.
Petit Violiniste: Do you have to pull everything I say into so many directions? Fucking Christ on a cracker.
[You pull my words, why shouldn't I do the same?]
Paradox Lain: come on, jade, i'm not everyone else. you can't treat me like you do them.
Petit Violiniste: I could say the same for you.
Paradox Lain: precision of language helps people understand so you don't have to waste breath clarifying yourself.
Paradox Lain: i don't treat anyone like i do you. i haven't the patience for anyone else.
[Not many, if not anyone else.]
Petit Violiniste: You degrade me as much as you degrade them.
Paradox Lain: i degrade you not, you just see it that way
Petit Violiniste: Only difference is that it takes longer for them to find out what you think of them.
Paradox Lain: it's not like i'm just sitting in the corner making fun of everyone.
Petit Violiniste: It's what it looks like.
Paradox Lain: certainly. but looks mean nothing.
Paradox Lain: you know that.
Petit Violiniste: You do and say awful things about them, and then you hold them to you as if you were the closest of friends. That disgusts me.
Paradox Lain: give me an example.
Petit Violiniste: Rhiannon.
[...Wtf?]
Petit Violiniste: You tell her that she's stupid, give her mocking looks. And now you've been hugging her like you have.
[Not the first time my looks have been misinterpreted. I hardly look at her, and when I do, it's just a stare, not "mocking looks." She's a nice person, but we don't really intellectually get along. We're interested in different things. And they're just hugs! When did hugs mean I want to be her best friend?]
Petit Violiniste: She doesn't buy it.
Petit Violiniste: -yawns- Damn. I'm too tired for this.
[*irked* Always yawning like everyone's boring you.]
Paradox Lain: i hug her just because she likes them, and i know what she goes through somewhat.
[As in, I know what her home life is like, and sometimes things get hard and people just need hugs.]
Petit Violiniste: -snorts-
[>:]
Petit Violiniste: -flicks the bangs from her eyes and waves her hand- I'll never understand the logic you have. The logic that...if you don't follow it, you're stupid just like everyone else and you'll fall on your ass.
[Yes, that's fucking exactly what it is. I'm not here to make you look stupid, I know how infinitely vain you are.]
Petit Violiniste: I've stopped trying.
Paradox Lain: please, jade.
Petit Violiniste: Please what.
Paradox Lain: i'm not asking anyone to be anything.
Petit Violiniste: Whatever. I never said you did. You simply treat them as if they're idiots if they don't agree with you.
Paradox Lain: when do i do that?
Petit Violiniste: Too many times to count.
Petit Violiniste: I'd feel whiny if I gave examples.
[Nice excuse.]
Petit Violiniste: -brushes herself off and pulls at her sleeves-
Petit Violiniste: Off to bed.
[...Right.]
Paradox Lain: whatever. if you really wanted to solve anything, you'd put forth the effort.
Petit Violiniste: I just told you. I've stopped trying.
Paradox Lain: then why are we talking about it?
[Indeed, who brings it up time and time again?]
Petit Violiniste: -scoffs to herself and stalks away- If you've something bad to say, say it to my face. I can take the mockery now. I just don't appreciate not knowing about the spreading of it while my back is turned.
[*MOCKS YOU* OMG I'M MOKCIN U JAED LOLOLOLLOL]
Petit Violiniste signed off at 11:00:25 PM.

-_-

I had a bad day. Bad. Day. Full of depressing things (mainly death), and then an argument with an administrator because Mrs. Saarenas thinks I'm just some fucking troublemaker that never does her work. They told me they don't care what I have to say, and if I don't do exactly what Saarenas wants me to do from now on, and she catches wind of anymore of my "goofing off", they'll give me an automatic F.

And then there was a pep assembly.

But I'm fine. Raving madly with a very empathetic Keith helped. Writer-man helped a lot more. And tomorrow's a new day, and I'll be a different person.

Oburi: adrienne, you're so not like the other people.

He would know.

*purr*

"In November in the southern city of Faisalabad, a woman was hacked to death with an ax by close relatives on suspicion she was having 'immoral relations' with a man. The man was also killed."

:O

Holy jebus. Ow.

Anyway. Started the book Tsutomu bought for me. : 3 's goooood.

Saa, Tsutomu. You need to figure out what you enjoy. I bet you don't even know what color you like best.

I am transparent, like glass.

I found this mildly entertaining. A few of you will probably laugh.

Adrienne | 12/11/2002
"All females that act anything like the stereotype they have been so suitably fitted with should be thrown off a cliff. There is no room in this world for people like you, Jade. I wish you would just fall on your face right now. With your lack of logic, you will be doing it sooner or later. Missy, your life will be bland, and boring. Why? Because you are chicken shit and you could not stand up to anyone if you tried. I hope your little twat of a first love leaves you lying on the bathroom floor craving your meds. You and the rest like you are what fuck it up for the world. GROW UP."

-feels something small snap in the back of the mind-

I don't have the conviction to be angry or hurt. I'm already about as angry and hurt as I'll ever get. I'm too miserable to lash back with anything mean. All I can do is write.

"All females that act anything like the stereotype they have been so suitably fitted with should be thrown off a cliff."

I don't know for sure which stereotype you're talking about. But I think I might, and if you have any problems with my tactics of getting along with people and being polite (even if it means swallowing my words like a bitter tonic) when it's recquired of my instincts, then you shouldn't be talking shit about it. You can tell me, but I wish you wouldn't broadcast that for the entire net to see. But then you'd never take it down because that's how you feel. I act the way I do because to get anywhere, one has to be diplomatic. Some of us don't stumble upon good happenings like the rest of you and have to make them happen by being nice. By not stating the poisonous words that we could spit like so much venom and are so very capable of doing. I'm sorry. I must be awful to watch everday at school, musn't I? Then don't come to talk to me if you don't like the way I have to act. Opportunities like the one I just recently got are rare and few to come, so I was happy that I had kept some good grades and got out and did things once in a while. Unlike you, who simply goes along with your want to be alone and doesn't make an effort to try things. I admit that I sometimes I wish I had the courage or the mindset to be so flippant to others in brute honesty. But it's not who I am. This is who I am...it irks me that you hate it, but then why do you associate with me? You say I lack logic. You've probably cursed me as a hypocrite a million times in your head. But you have your own set of hypocrisies.

"I wish you would just fall on your face right now. With your lack of logic, you will be doing it sooner or later."

You've seen me do that, metaphorically and literally.

Logic is something that the people came before us made into rules I don't like to follow sometimes. Did you ever think about that, Adrienne? People fall, with and without logic. You say these words to spite me and hurt me, and I know it. You did, a little, as one would hurt another by insulting them mildly. But I wasn't surprised at all at your choice of words. These come out of anger--it burns behind your words like black flames. You think something like humiliating words would make me cry? I hope you did think that, because I can't cry anymore and this time those words failed.

"Missy, your life will be bland, and boring."

Bland and boring...? So far, it's been nothing but, and I think it's only going to get better. Who, exactly, is going to France for a year because of her "impressive application?" I drag this boast into this argument simply as a very good, very functional point. You? What are you going to do? Starve on the streets and drink and write and smoke. Yes, I've heard you say it before. Go ahead and do what you want. I don't condemn your life, so don't condemn mine. You don't know everything about me so don't talk to me as if you do. I know as soon as you read this you'll retort that you don't know me because I don't let you. That's not the point--that has nothing to do with this. But let me tell you now...if I let you know as much about me as I did with Them, I would be hurting even more right now because you know how to worm your way in and say just the right things to sting the most. You'd have the power to break me. I never trusted you because you do things like this to people while presenting nothing but the words and the face of laughter. And I'm glad I never did--I'd be gone right now. I'm glad I built these cautionary walls between you and I. This is why I can't return the adoration you recently placed on my head.

"Why? Because you are chicken shit and you could not stand up to anyone if you tried."

The less than two years you've known me is a Hell of a lot less than the other thirteen years of my life. You don't know what things I've done to state my point, what people I've beaten (yes, little tiny me), whose faces I've spit in to keep my pride and my name. You said to me once before, "you don't know everything so don't pass judgement." I bring that back to use now.

"You and the rest like you are what fuck it up for the world. GROW UP."

I could say things like that to you. But I don't. Diversity creates conflict, and without conflict the world wouldn't be interesting.

"I hope your little twat of a first love leaves you lying on the bathroom floor craving your meds."

This is something I'll never be able to forgive you for. Never. No matter what you say. I hate that you say this...only because it came true.

You got what you wanted, Adrienne. Touchstone.

-shakes her head quietly- I weep for people like you.

Perhaps someday you'll know happiness and it'll change you. I hope it does, for your sake.

Lelio (Jade)


"Starve on the streets and drink and write and smoke." I should be so lucky, Jade chan.

Well, anyway.

Robbie... is dead to the world.

Hahahahahah.

DEAD.

DEAD.

Not a word more of him ever again.

Me and my damn mistakes. This is okay. You have about a million bad words to write and a thousand bad actions to take before the good stuff starts coming out.

http://www.explodingdog.com/july17/why.html

*sighs*

I love writing these letters to my writer-man.

If I had to choose only one person to talk to for the next month, it would be him.

Sean: Leave your number at the beep, please. Beep, beep..
Sawa: http://www.explodingdog.com/mayfourteen/butthepacket.html
Sean: NEIN! DAS IST VERBOTTEN. WAS IST DEIN NUMBER!? SCHNELL!
Sawa: I know what that means. ^^ 253.333.1531
Sean: Well then answer the question... That's what I thought. No one picked up.
Sawa: ....That was you calling? *glaces at phone* Oops.
Sean: Very good, Fox, Very good.
Sawa: Sorry. :\
Sean: Your powers of reasoning and deduction leave me in awe. It's alright.
Sawa: Kay, you know what? Fuck you. I don't answer phones. KNOWN FACT.
Sean: Lucky you.
Sawa: Eat me.
Sean: Fuck you, eat me. Are you indignant or horny?
Sawa: Indignant and sick. I stayed home.
Sean: Ah. Sorry to hear it.
Sawa: And I was going to set things on fire in Chemistry too. DAMN. *sighs* Worst day to get sick ever.
Sean: You chose your health over flames? How could you? You ARE sick!
Sean: I know, I know! *smacks self*
Sean: Hee. Just kidding, sweet heart, don't bruise yourself.
Sawa: Btw, number in german is zahl. :P
Sean: Yeah, I haven't taken it since 8th grade, and even though I wasn't really learning it. Sue me.
Sawa: *sues him*
Sean: --Hires Cochran, because I'm black and I can do that.-- He's like a "Get out of Jail" Free card in Monopoly. But he works on law suits too!
Sawa: *loses and you get off scot-fucking-free*
Sean: Anypoop, I wanted to -call- because I'm supposed to be typing up copy-crap right now, and you said we should speak soon.
Sawa: I did. So call again. I'll sound like I'm drowning. In SNOT.
Sean: Hee, I'm not picky, dear.

Sawa: Times like this I wish I smoked.
Jade: -laughs- Don't get too wrapped up in me. All I do is knock things over and make people laugh and scream a lot.
Sawa: ...*holds tongue*
Jade: Say it. I have to go now.
Sawa: I enjoyed that night more than you can imagine. It did something to me, for me, not physically. Well, that was a very minor part. But... I wish I had the words to say what I felt.
Jade: -shrugs a shoulder, already turned toward the door-
Sawa: Something inside me needs to be around you.
Jade: Don't rush yourself. -closes the door behind her-

...I am entirely without feeling toward this at the moment. And I don't know why I said what I did.

My need is coming out in the strangest ways.

*slightly pained expression* I'm torturing myself. And it feels so good to press myself to him inside that brokedown palace of mine. Him in his room, his burnt room with the wall I had started torn down out of helpless anger.

If you people could see him...

Sometimes he moves, sometimes he laughs and lets me throw my arms around him, and talks to me as I sit on the floor with him, smears of charcoal on my cheeks and a reverent stare up at him. He runs a hand along Hobbes' spine, and talks about everything... We develop and close the small thread of discussion about Hitler, inherent evil, and self-preservation, only this time he's not short with me, and he's not playing the aloof teacher. He's smiling and explaining, and I cry inside his room in front of him when I have to go because I can't remember a time when anyone's ever treated me so well.

Yes, torture never felt so good.

This is so sick. So very sick.

But I don't care.

Stop telling me it gets better, James. Your month has gone by and it's no easier than it was on day three. I hated how I had to play pretend with Robbie, and that made me develop the bitterest of tastes in my mouth for him. I respond to him with small answers, and ignore him unless he contacts me first. But his talking to me no longer demands attention to spare someone else. He doesn't have the abilities anymore, and I can drop all of this.

Let's be honest.

Yes, let's be honest.

Josiah's oxygen. He's water. He's all I need to live off.

Update.

Pondering slipping something thin and metal into the prong holes of the electric outlet next to me...

Jade: -writes in diary- You should too! NYAH.
Sawa: I should, I should.
Jade: Look at me. I'm like a slave driver. "I'm...to sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt, so sexy it hurrrttts. I'm a model, you know what I mean? I shake my tush on the catwalk, yeah my tush on the catwalk.." -does a model walk-
Sawa: *throws roses*
Jade: Bah hah hah. That shirt I had on...I was a full block away from my house when the first two buttons popped off. I screamed and ran the rest of the way home.

Correspondence has begun fluctuating again between my lovely lovely writer-man and myself. I enjoy him greatly. There's nothing more refreshing than talking to him after a few months has gone by and our worlds have turned upside down and stayed the same. I'm in awe of him.

If only I could let myself tell you about him.

But I think not. Not here, no. If you want, you can ask. (I won't tell you much more even then, though.) Otherwise, let it fade like every other word I write here.

JBuck2000: you still know nothing about love.

...Oh, Josh. You child. I'm always twenty steps ahead of you and yet you insist on having that conversation over and over as if the answers I give will ever change! We tip-toe around Josiah's name like it's broken glass, and it is! Why do you grill me everytime we talk and then throw something like that in my face as if it's an answer to all of my mistakes?! I haven't even said anything of him to you beyond that my situation with him is the source of every grievance I've ever had, and you treat him like the rest of them. WHY?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU ALL?! WHY MUST HE FIT IN ALL OF YOUR LITTLE BOXES?! HE'S NOT MEANT FOR A BOX!

I don't know what I'd do if you didn't drag me into your silly conversations about me and how I'm doing. Nevermind you, you always say. You're just fine. I don't get it. What the hell's so special about me that you have to keep talking so long after your physical presence left this side of Auburn?

And I'm pretty sure if you call me babe one more time I'm going to find your house, tie you up and duct tape you naked to one of the pillars at AHS.

I'm not breaking this membrane of silence between us. You do it. I'm not quite yet ready to let you suck the life out of me once again.

Jade on new SN: Guess who.
Sawa: My son.
Jade: Uh, no.
Sawa: ...My mother?
Jade: No. -rolls eyes- You're smarter than this.
Sawa: Oh, it's Tony.
Jade: AGH. -sticks out her tongue- You're pissing me off on purpose, I swear it.
Sawa: *licks her tongue* 'Tis all out of love.
Jade: -starts- Meh.
Sawa: :D

Sawa: So, tell me what you thought.
Tsutomu: I enjoyed reading it. I'll explain, but I don't know really what to say....
Sawa: *arches an eyebrow*
Tsutomu: I can see I'm not going to get away with just that.. As far as the personalities, and what each character represents, I loved it. I'm excited by the club setting, alcohol, and the completely unsuspecting youth. And then the other half thing...the character that preys on the boy. I enjoy thinking on the emotions of each character in depth, piecing together a little world in my head where they exist. 0.o
Sawa: lol... Yay!
Tsutomu: They never get out. I should let them out to play....maybe when I'm half awake.
Sawa: I like to watch the predator fucking his prey. In my head. My characters are very close to me.
Tsutomu: Doing anything wednesday?
---
Tsutomu: Now I just have to think something to actually do. Any ideas?
Sawa: None.
Tsutomu: We could always get me drunk, and then you could mind-fuck me, ne?
Sawa: Sounds good to me.
Tsutomu: The source of alcohol os of course a problem. My dad might notice a bottle of red wine missing. I have always been quite curious to see what I'd be like drunk, or at least mildly intoxicated. Realistically, me getting drunk would involve much more planning. Not my usual half assed planning. Eh hem...seriously though, can you think of anything to do?
Sawa: No. :\
Tsutomu: Do you know where you'd like to go?
Sawa: Anywhere.
Tsutomu: Hmm...our options are....I have no idea. Do you want to get together right after school?
Sawa: Okay.
Tsutomu: That's a start. I can manage to get eighty dollars off of my dad, so that's what I've got to work with.
Sawa: Oh, great, now we can get both high AND drunk.
Tsutomu: Yes. We can spend the night snorting cocaine. It's cheaper than extasy, and meth. :D The things you learn at West Auburn. You know I'm joking...right?
Sawa: lol... You don't need to tell me. And even if you were serious, sign me up.
Tsutomu: Hmm..I'm never quite operating at full efficiency, am I.
Sawa: Nope. It's probably because you don't masturbate regularly. Like everyone else on the planet.
Tsutomu: I've considered that. Actually, me best friend blutnly told me that I needed to get some "fucking poon" so I could start thinking straight.
Tsutomu: bluntly*
Tsutomu: my*
Tsutomu: See?
Sawa: Yes, I do.
Tsutomu: Moving on now...
Sawa: lol
Tsutomu: RyuichixTatsuha: "Drugs are bad"
Sawa: lol. NO THEIR NOT STOP LYING OMGMG
Tsutomu: lol.. Oh that's crap.
Tsutomu: RyuichixTatsuha: you're too young to drink
Tsutomu: T_T Well, getting me drunk isn't going to be possible.
Sawa: Getting you laid, however...
Tsutomu: Now that has very nearly the same effect, plus an orgasm or twelve.
Sawa: For me, anyway.
Tsutomu: Hopefully.
Sawa: James and I made a bet that you wouldn't last 45 seconds.
Tsutomu: I'd agree.

Sawa: We're not too young to drink if YOU weren't. :-)
Sawa: Hypocrite.
Missa: lmao
Missa: please, you call that drinking
Sawa: yes.
Missa: fine. you go get some jello, and I'll bring a teaspoon of Rum @_@
RyuichixTatsuha signed off at 7:53:13 PM.

Back at the farm, little Sarah dies of pneumonia, and is buried out back in the ditch.

(In-joke ahoy.)

What the hell is wrong with everyone today?

News from the...whatever.

Breaking News:

Jessica: hi
Sawa: What do you want.
Jessica: Ok, forget everything I said on Tony's tagboard. I'm sorry my immature ways, I was looking out for my friend. I'm sorry for all the crap I put on his tag-board. I actaully like a lot of things about you, including your lip ring. I enjoy reading your blog and whatnot. I know we can never be friends again due to trust and the fact that we have different views on many things, but I just want to end this feud we have with each other. And I would also like to apologize to the world for my spelling troubles, lol. I shall pay more attention in Language Arts for the world and my own sake. That's all I really have to say, so yeah.
Sawa: Agreed.
Jessica: kewl. byebye

Our top story today:

E-mail from Robbie.

I know you never check your mail, but perhaps I'll get lucky and you will, for once. It's been a hectic few days and I haven't been online. It would take me forever to spill it all out before you, so I'll outline the main points. I got my wish and got shot at. It was at a rally, and I saw a short spray of blood before I realized it was my arm. Went to the hospital, it was just a graze, but it hurt like hell. I'm fine now, but it hurts when I type. A lot. I wish it would have hit my heart, but you know me. The replacement is ready, a full day early. I'm out, gone, I'm done with all of it. I know you think the whole thing is a lie, anyway. Now that it's all over, maybe I can start believing that, too. Close this world, open the next, hmm? Maybe I have new beginnings in front of me.

--Robbie

Everything's cleared, and the time where Josiah's back on my AIM list nears. I can't believe I've managed to coax Robbie this far.

Oh, fuck you all, I hear you saying it. "Whine whine whine but I thought nobody was supposed to talk about him whine whine." Well, you're still not. And I won't be either, there's absolutely nothing to talk about.

In national news:

More e-mail, this one from Matt, who I haven't talked to in a long time. Agh, so many memories flooding back.

I knew him as Bateau from C31's. He and I clicked immediately, he was always witty and wiping out our enemies with the flick of a verbal wrist. He enchanted little twelve year old me. I worked doggedly to tear him from Liza. Never succeeded, she had him wrapped around her finger and everyone saw it. We became enemies because of her and her lies. I still despise that childish woman. Thank the gods she hasn't been one to come out of the misty past and confront me like so many others have.

I last spoke with him a few months after he turned 18. He was gay then. Now he's not. He's 19, and stationed in Virginia. Got a girlfriend named Candice that's my age, pierced himself in seven places, joined the army. Sounds stupider every time I talk to him, I swear.

And I sent my short story off to Sage sensei with a note from me to her and the baby. So I should be gushing with happiness tomorrow. I love it when she edits/critiques my stuff. : 3

Anyway.

Not much past that.

Jade: wah? -clicks- ..isn't working..
Sawa: ..... >:
Jade: -laughs at that face- It's so easy to imagine you doing that.

*melts* Oh, Jade chan... <:

The Slowest Death

The sun blooms on the line where clouded skies meet the tops of Fir trees. My sorrow sucks the words of the book in front of me up, growing and distorting from the sickly masquerade of love that isn't mine. This reading I do at sunrise, when he is nowhere to be found, attracts the eyes and attention of the beast within me long enough to forget just why I stay out night after night, hunting for more distractions.

He left me so long ago, I have lost count of the days passing me and my wretched condition by, giving them freely and carelessly. It was the same carelessness inside that drove him from me. To spite the past, and ensure myself that indeed some small part of morose regret and remembrance did still linger, I wear his ring on a thin, slithering silver necklace. The ones I took over with my premeditated lines have asked about it, and every night is a different story designed to lure them in further.

My boys. My men, and sometimes women. My sacrificial lambs, slaughtered in bed and discarded to the elements without my door like so much rotting flesh. The ones I care nothing for, and yet are imperative to the temporary loss of memory and feeling I crave.

I go out to clubs all the long hours of each night, where the biggest concentrations of naïve young people seemingly reside. Even though I myself am only twenty-three, those my age are infinitely less of a whole person than I am, and this has led me to consider myself older than most people simply because of emotional and mental maturation.

Earlier this night, I had been at a place called Phenomena, inspecting the throngs of intoxicated sheep for one in particular, a trembling boy on his first trip using a fake ID, new to alcohol and new to life outside the folded skirts of mother dearest.

My prey let himself be known, a number of hesitant glances in my direction, and then a shy look, downcast and focused on the floor. I wove my way towards him, shrouding my wolfish smirk with a small smile.

“I noticed you’ve been looking at me.” The boy stared up at me from his stool as I leaned against the bar. “I’ve been looking at you too. Is this your first time here?”

“Y-yeah. I came with a few friends, but I think they’ve left me here.” Prime abandoned mutton, I thought. Perfect. His gaze left my features and drifted down to his drink.

“Are you without a ride home?”

“I am. I figured I could call someone, but it’s getting later and later…”

“I’ll take you, if you trust me enough.” The boy looked back up into my piercing eyes, and gathered some amount of courage.

“If you’ll have me, I’d like that.”

“I’ll have you, then.” With an infamously careless smile tossed into the come-on, I turned and walked briskly to the door. He threw a five on the bar and followed me hurriedly, lingering for half a second at the door before taking the following steps without even knowing quite why.

I know how their minds worked with each step; I observe them each night, and have watched the same routine pulled like wool over unsuspecting eyes by others who play the same game as I, though perhaps for different reasons.

He followed me because of the looks I gave him. I intrigued him, even if he wasn’t quite aware of it.

The drive was nothing spectacular or different; he gave me directions but I outright ignored them, headed instead to my flat on the edge of downtown.

I stopped my BMW, got out and walked silently to the door. Giving a glance behind me, I spied this boy stepping out of the car gingerly, and turning to follow me. I unlocked the door and stepped in, my shoes and socks I left near the door, and I turned to face him, throwing my leather jacket over the back of a chair without looking.

He stepped inside, trying to resist long looks in my direction.

“Shut the door.” He did so. I pulled my white shirt over my head and let it fall on the floor. My hands then went to my belt, unbuckling it nimbly and letting that too fall to join my shirt. The boy’s breath had quickened, his eyes growing along with the tightness in his jeans.

“Come here.”

He walked over to me, almost afraid as to what I’d do. I unbuttoned and then unzipped my pants, pushing them off my legs along with my boxers and kicking them both away. The boy stood still in what I could only call amazement, brown eyes riveted.

“Down on your knees.”

He dropped down in front of me, and gazed up at me in reverence. Instinct took over, and his hot mouth found its way to my erection quickly, sending my hands into his dark hair. After he had pleasured me significantly, I bade him rise and follow me to my bed.

The night had passed as they all do; this boy was a virgin, as I was suspect, and begged that I be gentle, though he was screaming an entire different tune by the time I was actually inside him. The intimacy that may have been there for him was nonexistent for myself, and I tired of the mind numbing thrusting quickly after I came.

I can’t stand to sleep next to any of them knowing what they’re doing in my bed in the first place. This one, I kicked out, handing him the clothes he couldn’t get on quick enough and, once he stood outside, wrapped in the moist gray of the end of night, I called him a cab and sent him on his meaningless way.

I had slipped on a pair of deep azure colored boxers and curled up on one side of my cold leather couch with the book that is now in my lap, and here I sit to this moment, watching the sun melt away any visual trace of the night’s sins.

My love for he who has left me grows with each sunrise, and I ache for him to the point of pitiful tears that find their way down to my cheeks, then my chin, then the book’s pages, turning the wet spots into waves under the words. Another indifferent, identical night without him, and my rueful pains know no boundaries.

*small bow*

Off to bed with me.

chibiukyou420: I should do something to annoy you
chibiukyou420: cause then I'd get mentioned :D

THERE. JEBUS.

Didn't do my homework. Do we expect anything less than that from me?

Dyed my hair again tonight, purple/blue/black. It looks awesome. :D

I found the lyrics to Buck-Tick's Ghost (!!!) after a whole year of them not being online, and translated 3/4 of it (ON MY OWN I MIGHT ADD) to put in the little lyric box thing. I am just that cool. :D:D:D

I fell asleep last night while writing in my little black book (not your conventional black book, mind you), and realized the last three pages I wrote was a blatant attack upon someone. I had no idea there was really that much anger deep down inside me. Hopefully I'll be pacified by tomorrow, yes?

And one more thing: I have yet another story idea, only this one is a short story. It's merely some passing thoughts that fit nicely with a smear of the streak of sesquipedalian in me. It'll be rather... hm... depressing, some people could say, simply because the situation seems hopeless.

Chris: Hey.
Sawa: Hi.
Chris: How's it going?
Sawa: It's not, I'm mulling over him.
Chris: Stop. At once. It's simply not healthy.
Sawa: I know it's not. I can't stop it, it bleeds through me of its own volition. But I haven't cried yet.
Chris: -Sigh-... Anything I can do?
Sawa: There never is.
Chris: I know. I ask anyway.

Excerpt from Pandora:

Finally one morning just before sunrise, when I was safely hidden, a strange silence fell over Antioch. A rhythm I had heard there all my days was gone. I was trying to think, What could this mean? But there was time to find out.

I had made a fatal miscalculation. The villa was empty. He had arranged for the transport by day. I had no clue as to where he'd gone! Everything belonging to him had been taken, and all that I possessed scrupulously left behind.

I had failed him when he most needed me. I walked in circles around the empty Shrine. I screamed and let the cry echo off the walls.

He never returned to Antioch. No letter ever came.

After six months or more, I gave up and left.

Of course you know the dedicated, religious Christian vampires never died out, not until Lestat came dressed in red velvet and fur to dazzle them and make a mockery of their beliefs. That was the Age of Reason. That is when Marius received Lestat. Who knows what other vampire cults exist?

As for me, I had lost Marius again by then.

I had seen him for only a single precious night one hundred years earlier, and of course thousands of years after the collapse of what we call "the ancient world."

I saw him! It was in the fancy fragile times of Louis XIV, the Sun King. We were at a court ball in Dresden. Music played--the tentative blend of clavichord, lute, violin--making the artful dances which seemed no more than bows and circles.

Across a room, I suddenly saw Marius!

He had been looking at me for a great while, and gave me now the most tragic and loving smile. He wore a big full-bottomed curly wig, dyed to the very color of his true hair, and a flared velvet coat, and layers of lace, so favored by the French. His skin was golden. That meant fire. I knew suddenly he had suffered something terrible. A jubilant love filled his blue eyes, and without forsaking his casual posture--he was leaning his elbow on the edge of the clavichord--he blew a kiss to me with his fingers.

I truly could not trust my eyes. Was he really there? Was I, myself, sitting here, in boned and low-necked bodice, and these huge skirts, one pulled back in artful folds to reveal the other? My skin in this age seemed an artificial contrivance. My hair had been professionally gathered and lifted into an ornate shape.

I had paid no mind to the mortal hands which had so bound me. During this age I let myself be led through the world by a fierce Asian vampire, about whom I cared nothing. I had fallen into an ever existing trap for a woman: I had become the noncommital and ostentatious ornament of a male personality who for all his tiresome verbal cruelty possessed sufficient force to carry us both through time.

The Asian was off slowly taking his carefully chosen victim in a bedroom above.

Marius came towards me and kissed me and took me in his arms. I shut my eyes. "This is Marius!" I whispered. "Truly Marius."

"Pandora!" he said, drawing back to look at me. "My Pandora!"

His skin had been burned. Faint scars. But it was almost healed.

He led me out on the dance floor! He was the perfect impersonation of a human being. He guided me in the steps of the dance. I could scarce breathe. Following his lead, shocked at each new artful turn by the rapture of his face, I could not measure centuries or even millennia. I wanted suddenly to know everything--where he had been, what had befallen him. Pride and shame in me held no sway. Could he see that I was no more than a ghost of the woman he'd known? "You are the hope of my soul!" I whispered.

Quickly he took me away. We went in a carriage to his palace. He deluged me with kisses. I clung to him.

"You," he said, "my dream, a treasure so foolishly thrown away, you are here, you have persevered."

"Because you see me, I am here," I said bitterly. "Because you lift the candle, I can almost see my strength in the looking glass."