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Post by Admin on Jun 1, 2007 1:35:12 GMT -5
Beginnings
My name is Ardent de Medici, no relation to that famous old dead guy. A lot of things have been happening lately and they have prompted me to start this journal. But first, let’s start from the beginning. I was born in the city of Retermositoa, I grew up here too. A city that ranks second only to New Orleans for all the weird shit that happens in it. I’m sixteen years old but some nights I feel a hundred. I’ve been through things that normal people couldn’t even imagine. I scoff with good reason when people call me just a child.
My earliest memory isn’t of my mother holding me tight in a loving embrace. No, my earliest memory is of my father on a drinking binge and me trying to sink into the floor so he didn’t notice me. Of course this didn’t work and I was beaten, probably for being a coward, but who knows. Excuse me if I sound a little bitter. For years that was my existence. Wish I could say that it toughened me up, but it didn’t. Those years of drunken beatings only left scars on the inside and out. All the while my mother turned a blind eye. She knew that if ever she interfered she would get it so much worse.
By the time I was five she stopped trying altogether, no matter what he did to me, or how long he hit me, she would just walk away.
Two years of serious practice ignoring the violence—of walking away—my mother walked away for good. She didn’t take anything with her, not even her favorite photo of me. I imagine she wanted to start a new life, one that didn’t include leaving her only child in the hands of her abusive husband. I doubt I will ever understand why she couldn’t take me with her.
(Are you still following?)
The next five years of my life kind of blur together. Only one event is really worth mentioning, and not just because it’s the only one I can clearly recall.
I hadn’t seen my father drink in, like, three days. That was a record for the son of a bitch. I knew that it wouldn’t mean anything good for me.
I went to sleep each of those nights more afraid of midnight beatings then I ever had been. On the third night I woke up to the sound of my father drilling into the cement wall of the basement. I remember curling into a tight ball and brining my blanket tighter under my chin. About an hour later my father came into my room and dragged my by the hair to the basement stairs. He threw me down the stairs and I remember hitting my head against the wall at the bottom.
All of this is going through my head clear as day as I recount my tale. Some horrors one can’t shake with time.
When I woke up I was chained by my hands to the wall. After four days of being chained up like an animal without food or water I lost track of the days. I’m sure that I was down there for more than a week. I shouldn’t have to tell you that it felt like centuries.
I drank from the condensation that dripped down the wall into a puddle on the floor. The idea to just give up never crossed my mind. I was too young to know that you could.
Finally a fire broke out on the fight floor—probably my father leaving a lit cigarette on a flammable surface. The fire quickly consumed the house and I started to scream. The temperature got so intense on the ceiling of the basement that it heated up the chains restraining me. My father had tethered them to the wall high up so I couldn’t medial with them and get free.
The heat traveled down the chains until they reached my wrists. The doctor said the scars will never go away—and neither will the external ones. I’m not sure how I got out of the basement but I have a hard time believe my father came and rescued me.
It was more of the same after that. We moved into a shabby house in the worst part of Retermositoa. I would later find out that we were only four blocks away from Fray
I was twelve years old when I met Pollynda for the first time and I remember it vividly. That night, more than any other, changed my life.
The air was sweet with the smell of rain and damp earth. I sat on the decrepid back steps of our house to avoid my father. I watched the play of shadows cast by the moon’s light. I wanted to join them so bad. All my life I had never had friends to play with, no toys, no love.
From those shadows she emerged. She had a killer fashion sense (no pun intended), and I remember thinking her hair was the same colour as blood. She wasn’t much older than me but she seemed so much more collected—like she could make it through anything and still enjoy her life. The moment I set eyes upon her I knew she was everything I wanted to be but didn’t know how.
Coming forward she stopped beside me and cupped my face in her cold hand. Then she continued into the house. A few minutes late she walked out the back door completely calm with flames follow right behind her. But then I was standing in the middle of the backyard watching the flames like the outside of the house. Pollynda stopped beside me once again. She spoke softly over the hiss of the fire. She explained that her name was Pollynda and that my father would never hurt me again. I knew before she entered the house that she meant to kill my father and I just let her pass. If that makes me evil then I have yet to meet a good person and I would doubt if humanity was capable of producing one “good” being.
Firemen came and I was put into child services. The first night in my new foster home Pollynda came through my window to make sure I was alright and that the child services had placed me in a nice place.
We spent a few hours talking that night. Pollynda even had to hide in the closet twice when the foster parents come to check on me in the night.
Pollynda was the first friend I ever had.
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Post by Admin on Jun 15, 2007 23:37:35 GMT -5
Once or twice a week after that Pollynda would come through my window—only at night—and visit me. I would change foster homes quite a few times during my early years but Pollynda would always find me. Sometimes she would just come in and leave me a little gift. I still have everything she gave me.
I was thirteen when Pollynda started to each me how to siphon emotions and energy from other people. It started off as just a really cool talent but it quickly became a necessary part of my day. Little snacks of energy were needed to get me through school days. From time to time when my foster parents were really proud of their own child or another foster kid I would unconsciously sap away their happiness. Taking other peoples emotions always feels like the emotion is directed toward you. At least that is the way it is with most emotions. Ones like anger, hate, and despair—those are almost tangible on your tongue. They taste like nine kinds of foul but they have enough energy in them to keep me awake for two days straight. I’ve tried it.
I have since learned to control myself. I no longer accidentally start to steal other people’s energies.
But back when I fist started, stealing energy to increase my own was so easy for me that I couldn’t understand why Pollynda couldn’t do it. I still don’t get how she can do so many unbelievable things and still not do something so easy a mortal can do it.
I don’t want to admit it but it took me a while to realize what Pollynda’s true nature is.
It was just before my fifteenth birthday when my sneaking suspicions were proven true:
We were walking the near empty streets in the earliest hours of the morning. Somehow we ended up in the shabby end of town. I remember feeling no fear because I had Pollynda at my side. She had always told me she would protect me no matter what—against all manner of evil—and I believed her.
So, of course we were set upon by vagabonds. Three guys jumped out in front of us and started talking amongst themselves about the fun they would have with us ‘two pretty li’l’ things’.
They tried to approach. Before I could blink two of them were on the ground with their faces caved in, Pollynda had the third one’s hair in her hand tilting his head to the side while she held him immobile from behind with her other arm across his chest. I remember she looked me right in the eyes before she sank her teeth into his throat. I was strangely alright with the idea of vampires and of having one for a best friend. Time has only made me accept it with greater understanding.
Befriending a member of the undead community has lead to some interesting adventures, I must say.
However; thus endith my tale of my humble origins. Well, the very basic part of my beginning—the parts that explain all the weird things that I will do, and have already done, in life.
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Post by Admin on Jun 15, 2007 23:58:07 GMT -5
Sometimes, to get to the present you have to explain the past. So before I state my current lifestyle, let me tell you how I got here.
As I’ve said, I’ve been bounced around foster parents since I was twelve years old. At my last foster home the parents left for a little vacation and some nut jobs held me hostage. And wouldn’t you know it, Pollynda’s supernatural friends came to the rescue. Unfortunately the house got burned down in the process. Go figure.
Now I’m staying at Tony’s apartment. I skipped out of the system. After sixteen they don’t care about you anyway.
One thing about Tony: he’s a beefy guy. He has tattoos over most of his visible flesh and he changes his hair more often than some people change their underwear. He’s also a smooth talking charmer. I’ve seen him break up fights with supernatural creatures with just his words. Why is he breaking up supernatural fights, a stranger might ask? Simple. Because he is the head of security for Pollynda’s nightclub Fray.
It doesn’t really make sense to employ a mortal to enforce the peace in a place where the clientele could snap him in half like a twig, but Tony is the best for the job. Almost everyone likes him and respects his authority over the place.
Though he is only twenty-six, he’s gotten himself a decent reputation in his social circle.
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Post by Admin on Jun 16, 2007 0:35:09 GMT -5
Right now, I’m sitting in English class. It’s hard, sometimes, to stay focused on high school when you know that all of the information they force-feed you will be obsolete before you graduate. Once, I asked Pollynda what high school was like back in the nineteen-eighty’s. She said she wasn’t there enough to know. I’m still trying to decide if that’s a good thing or not. One always hears of stories about how grand high school was. So far, I’ve just been disappointed.
Of course, there are the cliques. Preps, jocks, rebels, nerds. I belong to a clique that gets even less respect than the nerds: I’m a freak. One of those pale skin, bad makeup, gothic, human abnormalities.
I blame Pollynda completely.
She first got me into the beautiful clothes, the melodic music, and her late hours have given me a natural aversion to sunlight.
There are a few of us around the school and we are all pretty close. Outcasts of suburbia tend to bond together. Most of them are just looking to be ‘unique’, some wish they were Nosferatu—I doubt any of them have even met a real vampire.
Shawn Pilot is hovering around my desk like he wants to ask me something. He’s one of those rare people who can easily jump between cliques. So far he hasn’t infiltrated our little group. I sense the time is drawing near.
Sometimes being wrong is way better than being right. Shawn, after hanging around my desk for a while finial composed himself and started talking to me. Thankfully the class was noisy or I would have felt way awkward. After beating around the bush, figuratively speaking, for a few minutes he finally got to his point. A startling one at that.
Shawn Pilot, sociality extraordinaire, asked me to the End of the Year school dance. Naturally I scanned his emotions and got nervous energy mixed with sincerity and fear—I assume of rejection. As calmly as I could, which probably wasn’t very smooth at all, I told him I would check my schedule for that night and if I was free, I would go with him. I have to let him know by tomorrow. Finally—some high school normality.
And there’s the bell.
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Post by Admin on Jul 19, 2007 0:27:52 GMT -5
I just got back from Fray and I can’t believe what it looks like—exactly the same. Dark must have put it right or something. I was in there after the place got shot up and it wasn’t a pretty sight. Hurrah for mystical redesigning powers. Personally, I don’t much care for Dark. There’s something so off about him, and it’s not because he’s dead. He’s not to bad looking though. Maybe that’s why Pollynda likes him. They only met a few weeks ago and they both seem to have gone goofy eyed for one another. Pollynda tried to down-play it when I brought it up a few days ago but I can tell that Dark has her dead heart. It might take me a while to get used to being the third most important person in her life behind herself at number 1 and Dark as the runner up. I think I’ll go for a walk, it’s a nice evening. * * * So I took a walk along the nicely lit streets around Tony’s apartment building. Tony lives in a nice part of town. I doubt I will ever call this place my home. Seems like all my homes go up in flames. I like Tony too much to let his place be a victim of arson. Tony’s kind of like the older brother I never had. He looks out for me and he’s always there for me. You know, aside from the hassling. But I always get him back so it’s ok. Unfortunately, his girlfriend really doesn’t like me. It’s her problem and she needs to deal. Instead she just bitches at me and complains to Tony. Before I moved in, Tony and Ashley got along fine. Tony spent all his time working and pampering his girlfriend and that was the way the pop-princess liked it. Since I came along Tony’s been hanging around me more and fretting about me. Not that it’s needed. I can take care of myself pretty well. I just needed a place to crash. Thankfully, I got the job at the CD store the day before yesterday. I start tomorrow. I’ll save my pennies and get my own place. It doesn’t feel right mooching free rent. I’ve been trying to offset my cost of food but my money, which was low to begin with, is pretty much gone. So hence the necessity of a job while the majority of my friends still get their parents to buy their corsets.
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Post by Admin on Jul 19, 2007 0:44:47 GMT -5
Last night I barely slept a wink. I was so nervous about starting work today and trying to convince myself that Shawn really wants to go to the dance with me
It took me until English class to decide. My finial answer: yes. I’m going to the End of School Dance with Shawn Pilot. Cue the hysterical girl laughter.
What will I wear?
Started at Primary Noise today. Gotta say it was pretty cool. I get an employee discount and possibly free tickets on occasion. The pay is nothing to write home about, but what can you expect from a non-franchised retailer.
My boss seems like an okay guy. A little nerdy, but still okay.
I just remembered that Mark never game me back my top hat. That bastard better not have ruined it.
I wasn’t sure what to wear to work today so I headed over to Pollynda’s straight from school. The bus ride was unpleasant. The guy who sat beside me smelt like dirt and unwashed socks.
To make everything just so…my key got stuck in Pollynda’s door. I woke her up trying to get the damn thing out. She just sat up in her coffin and laughed.
Finally I got the key free. We talked for a bit and I explained my clothing plight. Her eyes seemed to glow at the prospect of playing fashion stylist.
I’m a little smaller than she is but most of her clothes fit me just fine all the same. We spent an hour trying to find something suitable for me. I ended up in a Skinny Puppy tour t-shirt from 1990 that was autographed by the band. (It didn’t seem to impress my boss but it sure as hell impressed me.) With it I wore a pair of straight-leg leather pants that Pollynda said she wore when she was mortal. Talk about vintage.
Pollynda’s closet…it’s almost the same size as Tony’s apartment. The vamp is positively a clothes whore. She has enough shoes to cover a small country and so many coats and jackets she could wear a different one everyday of the year.
Some of the stuff she has isn’t her size or style and I don’t like to dwell too hard on where she might have gotten the stuff.
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Post by Admin on Dec 1, 2007 23:44:28 GMT -5
I know it’s been awhile but I’ve been really busy lately. Shawn and I went to the dance and I had a really good time. Since I was with Shawn all the cliques seemed to completely ignore the fact that I was in a 1901 Mourning Dress. It was tailor made for Pollynda but no one needed to know that there. Mark also gave me back my top hat and I wore it with the dress just to make it over the top. We spent the night dancing to songs I had never heard before. I haven’t listened to a popular music radio station since elementary school. Shawn thought it was amazing that someone could be so detached from pop culture while still in high school. I told him he needed to take a break from pop culture before it turned his brain into mush and he started wearing only one sparkling glove at a time. After the dance ended, around midnight, Shawn said he would drop me off at home. He had picked me up from Pollynda’s apartment and so assumed that was where I lived. I didn’t bother to correct him. Never assume anything. It makes an ass out of you and me. I told him I never packed it in so early on a Friday night. It took some convincing but I got Shawn to agree to check out FRAY with me. When we got there Tony was at the door. There was a long lineup that we bypassed. Shawn and I looked so over dressed; Tony took one look at us, smiled, and said “you better be home before I am.” I noticed the promise of pain in his eyes directed toward Shawn if the orders weren’t followed. Sometimes, Tony’s too much the older brother I never had. DJ S’x was up in the booth hard at work keeping the music flowing. She’s not my favourite DJ the club uses but she gets the people moving and the dance floor is always packed. She plays all the club hits, and people dance to what they know. Shawn didn’t really care for the ambience of the club but he hung around for an hour just to be a gentleman. He really is a superb guy. Thankfully, he didn’t mention seeing any of the shadier dealings of the club. I made it home well before Tony. In other news, Ashley is the bane of my existence. She used my Satanic Bible as a coaster and now there are coffee rings soaked through the majority of the book. She says that the book goes against God and deserves to be desecrated. I asked her if she got the word “desecrated” from her Word-A-Day calendar. She flipped me the bird and continued to look at the pictures in her Cosmo magazine. I stole $10.00 from her purse to buy myself a new copy. Thanks a lot Ashley. I can’t wait until Tony dumps your vulgar ass. www.agelesspatterns.com/1642.GIF
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Post by Admin on Apr 22, 2008 20:09:01 GMT -5
I broke up with Shawn. I’ve been spending my time with this vampire named Micheal. We have a lot of fun—a lot of fun. He saved me from a scumbag in an alley when I was on my way to the club to see Pollynda. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen her. It’s not normal for her to go so long without checking up on me. But I must say, I’ve thoroughly been enjoying the freedom.
School has been pretty rough for me lately. I spend all of my time working at Primary Noise or partying it up with Micheal. Its been taking its toll—but I can’t stop. Unlike Micheal and Pollynda I won’t be young forever—as far as I know. (A little help fixing this problem, Pollynda or Micheal, would be greatly appreciated.) I have to live recklessly as much as I can now. I might be dead tomorrow, or suddenly realize that I’m 30. I don’t want to say that I never had fun when I was a teenager. I’m 17—nearly a quarter of my life is gone already. These are the prime years; I don’t want to sleep through them.
My energy has been so low that I’ve had to steal other people’s energy. I don’t want to suddenly drain someone dry. I’ve done it before and it’s not really all that amusing. A body crumbling to the floor is a cool image unless its one of your friends doing the crumbling. I still feel really bad about that time Nick came over during one of my low periods. The foster parents I was staying with at the time never did believe me that I didn’t suffocate the boy.
After that Nick believed me when I said I had abilities that he could never have. It’s a shame that he turned into such an asshole. Popularity has an odd way of doing that to people.
I’ve often theorized that humans are pack animals. A lone human is an unnatural thing. Maybe that is why outcasts are so greatly resented. However, in a world where going against nature is called “science” how can we still hate the recluse? Are we reverting to the Dark Ages, where a person living a solitary existence has something to hide, or is it just that we’ve never left.
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Post by Admin on Apr 22, 2008 20:58:07 GMT -5
I came into Tony’s apartment today to find Ashley sitting on the couch. She was reading another stupid girly magazine—the kind that molds their readers into the perfect consumer of makeup, handbags and shoes. By reading I mean looking at the advertisements. That dolt couldn’t read a sentence to save her life.
Tony—dump her vulgar ass!
As so often is the case when Ashley is within the country, she couldn’t keep her hands to herself. Dishes were all over the coffee table, the kitchen looked like a nuclear waste area and the TV was so loud that I couldn’t hear the air-raid sirens.
Thankfully I made it into my room without being accosted. That silence was short lived. A few minutes after I lay across my bed for a moments respite Tony knocked on my door. He came in without waiting for a response. He looked like he was going to be “cracking skulls”.
I knew immediately what had happened. I had hoped that he would have left for work by the time that I got home. Guess when you run the show you can go in whenever you feel like it. I know Pollynda always did. I figured Tony to be a little bit more responsible.
Tony came into my room and shut the door behind him. As he was closing the door I couldn’t help but feel the waves of contentment coming from the living room. Ashley, your one sick puppy.
Without beating around the bush Tony got to point. The principal had called him shortly before I came home. Tony has been my emergency contact for school things since I met him. Seems the principal was less than impressed with some actions I took while leaving the school grounds. Mainly: making Cindy Walker fall on her ass to the ground. I don’t see why the principal was involved. I didn’t lay a hand on her, and anyone who saw her and me can attest to it.
I know I said that making people crumble to the ground wasn’t amusing, but sometimes it’s necessary. Today Cindy just wouldn’t let it go that I had dumped Shawn. When we were going out the chit would constantly be in my face saying that I wasn’t good enough for him, that I should stick to dating freaks like myself. Get a life bitch.
Today she was grilling me hard about what was wrong with me that I would dump God’s gift to the female race in the form of Shawn Pilot. I tried to get away, I put up with as much of her triad as I could before I finally snapped. I am so tired of her bullshit. I just let down the gates and with invisible hands I grabbed all of her life energy that I could without seriously harming her. With her out of the way I ignored the calls from teachers to stop, and continued uninterrupted until I walked into the sty that Ashley had created.
Tony gave me a long lecture about responsible use of my abilities and how I should take better care of myself so that I don’t need to feed so often. I wasn’t aware before now that Tony could tell when I had fed.
It was hard to stay focused on his words when I knew that Tony’s heart really wasn’t into it. It seemed like he said everything because that’s what a responsible caregiver would do. Tony has no love for Mundanes. He had it ruff in high school. To hear him say that they are people too and therefore need to be respected was a little hard to swallow.
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Post by Admin on May 25, 2008 2:00:35 GMT -5
Right now, I’m wearing my top hat. It’s black, with a red ribbon around the base. I am describing this so that sixty years from now, when I’m old and my memory consists of only the last 3 hours, I can pretend to remember something from my childhood. When I was over at Mark’s on the weekend it was sitting on his dresser and so I casually stole it back from him. That boy’s entire wardrobe is clothes he’s stolen from other people. It’s a pretty impressive collection to say the least.
Work has been pretty slow lately. And the slower it gets the more hours I have to work. Primary Noise has been around since Pollynda’s day but who knows how much longer it’s gonna be around. So many people are downloading music nowadays. Soon—CD’s and vinyl will be obsolete.
With all the time I have to work, I’ve barely seen Micheal, or any other of my friends. My social life, like a diaper, is going down the hole. I talked briefly with Josh at school today. I found out that his band is playing at the battle of the bands at school on Thursday. I told him that I would be there to cheer them on. I think my small clique will be the only ones. The band that Josh plays synthesizer for is called Malady for My Lady. They are a heavy industrial band with a vocalist who sounds like a car wreck. Their only saving grace is the passion with which they play and the fact that they are all extremely attractive to look at. I don’t care what kind of social clique you follow, I deify any woman to tell me that those guys aren’t drop dead gorgeous. And when they play—you can tell that each one of them feels each note, that making music was what they were conceived to do.
Once or twice I’ve seen them play at Fray. The first time I asked Pollynda to book them as a favour to me. The second time she did it because she was tired of hearing people asking to see them again. Too bad people in my shithole of a school aren’t so into music that Michael Jackson doesn’t sing.
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The candle on my night stand just fell over. I’ve been watching the dripping wax pool below the wick for a few moments. The candle is black and it’s like watching a black hole form. All the light in the room seems to be sucked into the small pool.
I’ve pulled my top hat lower over my eyes. This make me feel more mysterious. Feeling mysterious is imperative at 3am. Did I mention that I drank a half a bottle of JD in the interlude? No? Well, I did. My head feels heavy now and keeps leaning to the right. I think I’ll take a solitary walk through the quiet streets of Retermositoa. With my balance shifted I figure if I walk in a big enough circle I’ll end up back at the apartment.
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Post by Admin on Apr 8, 2009 7:58:30 GMT -5
I spent the whole night crying and when i woke up this morning I turned on the stereo. I had forgotten that The Smiths: Greatest Hits was in the CD changer. I listened to it on repeat for about three hours, just laying in bed.
There is just something so melancholy and yet soothing about The Smiths. For the most part, they have a way of making me feel like my problems are small in comparison to the rest of the world. It makes me feel selfish that I could wallow so much in my own pity, and that stirs me to do something--anything--to clear my mind.
I walked around downtown and not for the first time did I notice how strange this city is. Shoulder to shoulder stand skyscrapers with houses built by the first settlers in Retermositoa. Like the past won't let itself be forgotten, no matter how much progress the world makes.
My eyes were still raw from last night and the sun stung as it rose, higher and higher, into a clear sky. Not for many years have I been a fan of the sunshine, but as it fell on my face today I felt refreshed, clean, and safe. All things I haven't felt in what seems like a lifetime. It was good.
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Post by Admin on Apr 11, 2009 23:19:46 GMT -5
I was walking through Retermositoa Cemetery by myself tonight, and I had a bottle of Red Wine in hand. I had found it in the kitchen underneath the sink. I think Tony meant to hide it from me. I also stole the cigarettes that Tony keeps taped to the underside of his sock drawer. Ashley was on a major health kick a few months back and made Tony promise never to smoke again. Which was pretty redundant as the man smokes a pack a year, max. He just keeps a pack on hand encase he feels like indulging himself.
With these in hand I hightailed it to the outer reaches of the city. I drank, I smoked, I stumbled among the graves--and I wished to gawd that my headstone was among the sea of stones.
Whenever I wander around that cemetery I always get a weird feeling of deja vu. Like, no matter what I do, I've done it a thousand times before.
I was through the magnum of wine in just under two hours. It got me thinking that maybe. just maybe, I've been drinking too much lately. But I love the heavy feeling that only alcohol can give me. That wonderful invincibility coupled with the bubbly lethargy that makes it feel like you're dragging your limbs through quicksand instead of just working against gravity.
Really I know its all just a way to ignore the pressing issues in my life, and until they go away or are slammed into my face, I'm just going to continue to ignore them. I've lost the compass of my life and now I have no idea how to get out of the spiral I seem to have consigned myself to.
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Post by Admin on May 21, 2009 9:34:45 GMT -5
Today was an absolutely uneventful day. That being such a rare thing, I felt I had to write about it.
I hung around with my friends at school--as usual. Karloff was reading gothic poetry to Cindy underneath our favourite tree out front of the school. Some jocks passing by made rude comments and snickered. I couldn't help but laugh aloud because that poetry is getting Karloff laid and I doubt those jocks have ever seen a naked woman other than on the National Geographic Channel or the late late night movie.
I went to work at Primary Noise and it was dead in there. So many people are just downloading music nowadays. I was so bored that I restocked all the shelves, cleaned up, and finished all my homework.
After work I went and visited Pollynda at Fray. The club was light on people too but it was early in the evening. Pollynda and I hung about for an hour or so before I said good-bye to Tony. It was his night off but with little else of interest to do in Retermositoa, he and Ashley were hitting the clubs.
I was back to Tony's apartment by midnight and quickly changed into my PJs. I was surprised to find an open water bottle on my floor. I don't remember ever having a water bottle in my room. Probably something I did when drunk. But I'm greatly surprised I didn't spill it before now.
I wonder what adventures await me tomorrow.
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Post by Admin on Jul 1, 2009 3:45:28 GMT -5
I don't know what it is that I want, but I know this life isn't it.
The good times were never few or far between, but the lows--those black holes swallowing my life--are getting to be too much to bare. When will I find the courage to start again?
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Post by Admin on Oct 14, 2009 11:28:14 GMT -5
I didnt imagine it could happen but the lows keep on getting lower. Seems like everyday brings a new disaster in my life. People around me keep dieing and friendships are starting to fray at the edges.
I came home from school every day this week and cracked open a bottle. I drink until I'm sick and then pass out--all for the simple excuse that I can. I'm sixteen, what else is there for me to do alone? I never realized how much I need the company of others, that cacophony that they make, the energy that they bleed and I take in without conscious thought. I think its that subtle energy that makes the company of another body so desirable. A room full of awkward strangers is preferable to sitting alone in an empty apartment. But that is not an option today and so an open bottle of J.D. sits before me.
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Post by Admin on Nov 28, 2009 22:31:00 GMT -5
Today I realized that no matter how hard I try I will never be able to have the things I want. Its not from a lack of trying--really. When I want something, I don't stop until I get it. But when the things I want are not real, well, then I slowly die while stuck striving for the impossible.
I also realized that sometimes, on very rare occasions that actually happen often, I am the cause of my own downfall. I bring about the situations that cause such dark times in my life to overshadow my happiness. Will I ever learn?
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Post by Admin on Feb 27, 2010 0:02:36 GMT -5
Tony is on a cost saving crusade and he's let the temperature of his apartment fall to nearly freezing. My fingertips feel like they are about to fall out of my fingerless gloves. The lace does little to insult my hands, but a little is better than nothing. The blanket I'm huddled into has a cute little bat knitted into the middle. If you can believe it, Ashley gave me this throw blanket. She said her mother made it for me after we (Tony, Ashley, and myself) went to lunch with the woman a few weeks back. The old broad was nothing like her hellspawn daughter.
I haven't felt like going out much lately. Seems like the dark abyss just keeps swallowing a little bit more of me each day.
Pollynda stopped by for a visit earlier this week. Been ages since I had seen the girl. Seems like she's changed a lot in our time apart. It still weirds me out how she seems to be still growing up. At 40+ years you'd think she'd have a few more things figured out than I would.
She invited me to come see some bands at FRAY. I went by myself since Pollynda said she had some business to take care of that night. (I stopped asking what "business" meant after the first year I was friends with the woman. Ignorance really is bliss sometimes.) I spent the entire night just sitting on a barstool drinking drinking random shots. I don't even know what I was drinking. I would just turn around, slap the bar and a shot glass would appear before me. I don't remember leaving the bar and coming home, but it seems I made it back to base alive. More and more I'm starting to think of that as a shame.
I think I miss Micheal.
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Post by Admin on Apr 15, 2010 22:37:39 GMT -5
I realized some time ago that it was time for me move out of Tony's apartment. This wasn't my home and it was only a matter of time before I started thinking of it as my home. Then something terrible would be bound to happen. The last time, my foster parents were both killed and their house was burnt down. Fire seems to be a prevalent theme in my life.
And wouldn't you know it, it would pop up again. I signed a lease on a one-bedroom apartment in a shady part of Retermositoa, the rent real cheap because of the location, and I swear the next day there was a fire on the first 4th floor, my apartment would have been on the third. I had had one fleeting thought that I would have a place of "my own" and fire destroyed it. Such is my life. Why can't I have my own space like everyone else? Who was it that cursed me so? I cried when I got the news and I went over to Pollynda's. I couldn't be at Tony's. The space was his and I didn't want to use it as a refuge in such a tragic time of need less I think of it as "my" refuge. I'm not sure if that would warrant the curse to fall upon it but I'm not willing to take the chance (unless Ashley is the only thing in the apartment - she would deserve to burn like the evil witch she is). Pollynda didn't really comprehend why I was so upset. She didn't want to believe in my curse. Although she's seen it in action herself. Even burnt down one of my homes herself. She offered for me to stay at her place, even through our harder times she was still there for me when I really needed her. But I can't live with a vampire--or at least not her. She's too much like my mom sometimes, always thinking she knows what's best for me and throwing her two cents in. If I wanted that I would ask to go back into foster care - if I could.
Tony was always so good about that. He never bothered me about what I got up to or with whom. He trusted me to stay safe. Of course I knew he worried about me - the man was like an older brother to me. But he never let it interfere with my life. Just one more reason why I need to get away from him before I hurt him. I'm sitting in a coffee shop and I just heard the lamest "wit" ever. "Can I help whose next?" "I'm next. I had my name changed last week." Har har. Gawd, save me from people with that kind of humour. It's also freezing in here. It's a nice spring evening, the sky clear and a gentle breeze blowing, a night for sitting on a patio. Bit this place has the AC cranked - full power. Making such a beautiful night difficult to appreciate. I'm waiting on Nick to show. We’re supposed to drown my sorrows with a bottle of whiskey after a brief coffee. Been waiting for what seems like forever, wondering of he's actually going to show. I looked over my shoulder and the man is ordering a coffee. Couldn't he at least say “hello, I'm here, your wait is over”? No, that would be a kind and decent thing to do and with the way my life seems to go I just can't have that. Sometimes I wonder if I complain too much and other days I wonder if it's not all warranted. My life isn't a picnic, and if it is it's being ransacked by evil fire ants. So Nick and I went back to his place after coffee and we were playing around and Nick hurt my neck, this morning I woke up and I could barely move it. I didn't notice last night because I was really drunk. I had broke out his bottle of whiskey and swigged it back. It was so nasty though that I had to run to the bathroom because I thought I was going to hurl. Whiskey has never done that to me before. I wonder if it's because I'm stressed or because my liver is finally giving up on me. Either way, I managed to hold me liquor, thank gawd.
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Post by Admin on Jun 9, 2010 1:50:23 GMT -5
I started drinking at about 4 in the aftnoon today. Thats pretty unusual for me. 8am is the normal time for me to start drinking on a day when I'm hell-bent on getting shitfaced. But I had things I needed to accomplish before I could drown my life in whatever I could score from my friend. Whiskey, rum, what does it matter as long as it changes my perspective on things and inhibits my thoughts.
I found out a great deal of things today. I found out that my friend's father has a gun hidden on the top shelf of his closet. This scares me because guns are so easy--pull the trigger and be done with life. I always wished that I had no access at ALL to a gun. Now I know one is within arms length of my desire. "One shot and the world gets smaller." I also found out that another of my friends is cheating on her boyfriend with anyone she can pick up at the bar. Tonight she snagged a married man in town for a work conference. I was forced to leave early because my stomach revolted on me. Lately anytime I drink something mixed the stomach cramps and there is a great deal of pain to my self. I try to ignore it but it never happens Somethings just weren't meant to happe and me drinking right now isn't' one of them. Jacklyn also borrowed my sweater tonight. I hope don't stretch it too much tis my favorite sweater.
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Post by Admin on Jul 28, 2010 2:03:21 GMT -5
I can't help but feel like my life is all about failure. Lately its been about people failing me. I've really needed the support of my friends these last few days and its been completely lacking. I give so much to my friends and take so much of their sorrow into me. Why can't they take my burden for a short time. I've carried theirs for so long.
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Post by Admin on Sept 11, 2010 19:09:27 GMT -5
The same thing everyday and I just keep coming back to this place. It makes me feel so low and worthless yet I need to come back. I need these people around me. Never thought I would need anyone. But I feel so alone, like the world around me isn't worth seeing when I'm alone. This place gives me purpose.
Everything around me is bright lights in the darkness and loud noises. Voices in tongues. Why can't I free myself from this evil?
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Post by Admin on May 6, 2011 22:52:30 GMT -5
It's been a long time since I updated this journal of mine. Gosh, how things have changed.
I finally made the mistake of referring to Tony's apartment as "home". Within a day there was a fire that forced him out of his building. A toaster in the apartment next to his, jammed. Only the two apartments were damaged, but Tony and I had to find a new place since all of our belongings were damaged in the fire. Tony dealt with it rather well, considering his worldly possessions had just been destroyed. Ashely didn't take the news so well. She and Tony broke up when she refused to allow Tony to stay at her apartment. Turns out she was having another guy sleep over that night.
It took some time but Tony and I found a two bedroom apartment that we could share. We spent the few weeks that we were homeless living in a motel room. It was like camping, except that we had hot showers every day, and a lot of toilet paper. I really like the new place because it finally feels like home to me. Its my home this time. I'm paying half the rent. Someone isn't being forced to watch over me.
I had to find another job other than my one at the record store. Now I work at a jewelry kiosk in the mall, and as a busboy at Fray. None of these jobs pay particularly well, and I've had to abandon my social life--but I've got a place to call mine.
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Post by Admin on Oct 11, 2011 3:04:36 GMT -5
no matter what happens in my life the only person I can rely on to listen to my heartache is not even a person. it's my journal
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Post by Admin on Jan 5, 2012 2:47:50 GMT -5
Its two o'clock in the morning, your friend drives over to pick up a bottle of vodka that she's abandoned in your fridge for the last 6 months, and when asked "what's wrong" replies: "Nothing."
Would you believe her?
Or course you would. Because its easier to believe the lie than have to be there for me when I need your friendship the most. Fuck. You. I say that with all the anger, angst, and loathing that I can muster while still sober enough to hold a pen. I worked so-goddamn-hard to keep your friendship because it meant so much to me and at the time I thought I couldn't make it in this dangerous world by myself. But I'm older now--wiser and I realize that I should have let you go that first time around. Its easier now--to let you go. I've got the experience behind me. But it would have saved myself a world of angst to just let you alone.
You didn't value me enough to try. Never have. Why should I always be the one to try. TRYING IS HARD. But you'll never know that.
But, really, this is nothing new to me. People drift apart. I know that. Doesn't mean I have to like it. The people in my life mean so much to me. And they leave. And crazy as it is, there are some that leave and come back the same as the day they left. Friend-wise at least. We say "hello", hug, and its like I just saw them yesterday. For one such friend, I know this break will be longer than the others we've had, but I know that we'll come back to each other. And maybe that's what has spoiled me. Not everyone has the ability to WANT to be friends.
Gawd, I've wasted a mickey of vodka and a half a bottle of rum on you, FormerFriendThatShallNotBeNamed.
I have my self. I have my dreams. I have my desire to better myself. I have my ability to TRY. That makes me so much better than you. Makes me realize that everything I just wrote is meaningless in the small scheme of things. Because, tomorrow, when I wake up: I'm going to do things that I might not succeed at. Making breakfast, going to work, language class, and looking after my pets. All things that could go horribly wrong. And while you can only look at the negative and doubt yourself, I'm going to know that--although I don't know how its all supposed to be done properly, I at least gave it my best shot and am willing to learn from the experience.
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Post by Admin on Jan 8, 2012 17:48:45 GMT -5
Only climbed out of bed today to feed the fish. The dog sleeps more than I do--he's fine for a few more hours. Only counted 3 goldfish, 3 orange fish. Found my missing fish under the couch. Just like the ones before him.
What is wrong with me that even a fish doesn't want to be near me?
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Post by Admin on Jan 9, 2012 3:04:23 GMT -5
It's been a month since you decimated my confidence. My boisterous ego is gone because of you. But I cant completely blame you. I knew it was a terrible idea from the beginning, but I think we were both lonely and just wanted the comfort.
It amazes me that it only takes one person, one incident, one word to crush a person. We're all so fragile and made of so many pieces. I hope that one day I'll be able to find all my pieces and put myself back together again. First step is to stop thinking about what happened. And yet I cant because every time I need my confidence, its gone. Left behind.
Despite myself, I'm applying to college tomorrow. Don't know if I;ll get accepted, but I'm ready to try. Ready to better myself and learn more about the things that interest me. Just one more thing I'm doing to better myself for myself.
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Post by Admin on Jan 31, 2012 2:50:06 GMT -5
I believe I can see the future Cause I repeat the same routine I think I used to have a purpose Then again, that might have been a dream
I think I used to have a voice And now I never make a sound I just do what I've been told I really don't want them to come around, oh no
Every day is exactly the same Every day is exactly the same There is no love here, and there is no pain Every day is exactly the same
I can feel their eyes are watching In case I lose myself again Sometimes I think I'm happy here Sometimes, yeah, I still pretend
I can't remember how this got started Oh, but I can tell you exactly how it will end
Every day is exactly the same Every day is exactly the same There is no love here, and there is no pain Every day is exactly the same
I'm writing on a little piece of paper I'm hoping someday you will find Well, I'll hide it behind something They won't look behind
I am still inside here A little bit comes bleeding through I wish this could have been any other way Oh, but I just don't know, I don't know what else I can do
Every day is exactly the same Every day is exactly the same There is no love here, and there is no pain Every day is exactly the same
Every day is exactly the same (every day) Every day is exactly the same (there is no pain) There is no love here, and there is no pain (every day) Every day is exactly the same (every day is the same)
Every Day is Exactly the Same - Nine Inch Nails
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Post by Admin on Feb 3, 2012 3:24:27 GMT -5
I quit my job today. Sitting there, with my head in my hand I realized it just wasn't for me anymore. Not my cup of tea, as they say. I was tired of dealing with stupid people. Just because I work in a record shop doesn't mean I have a direct line to the musicians whose music you're buying. No--I can't pass on the message that their new music sucks.
I was a little nervous, but I already had a knot in my stomach from the strain of not decking the last lady to talk to me. "You shouldn't support The Smiths buy selling their music. They said that eating meat was like murder. How can you support a band that lies to people?" I'm not a vegetarian, I don't agree with the Smiths view of meat/murder, but they are entitled to that opinion, as I am to mine, and they make DAMN fine music. Why do the crazies always find me?
So I told the boss I was done, never coming back, had enough of stupid to last me a lifetime. He smiled, very understanding, and got me some forms to fill out--did--and sent me on my way. I have never felt as good at work as I did walking out of that place.
It was all a little rash, and on the curtails of an emotional meltdown the night before. Got told by a mutual friend that my boyfriend had been saying horrible things about me behind my back to just about anyone who would listen. Something along the lines of that I was like a fast food restaurant--quick food and would serve anyone. Normally stuff like that doesn't bother me, and I can shrug it off. But I trusted him. I've never had someone I trusted so much hurt me like that. First and last time I guess. That'll learn me. And to add salt to the wound I wasn't able to get a hold of any of my friends to have a shoulder to cry on. Nothing like actually being alone when you feel like the world has turned its back on you.
I have no idea what I'm going to do now. Applying for college didn't work out. I have no money. I don't even have enough money for groceries. Its a good job I still have about a weeks worth of soup in the cupboards. I better not get a craving for anything else. Will likely have to go through a temp agency for a while, just to make rent. I got three weeks left before its due. I doubt my luck will improve and I'll find employment before then. I also have a plan to visit an employment center next week. I would go tomorrow but I want a day to just relax from the world.
Might go up to the summer house this weekend. There is a pet cage there, and I was playing with the idea of getting a guinea pig. I want something to take care of, something to dote on. I had been looking after a dog for a friend, but he went back home, and its left me feeling so alone here at home. The only issue I would have is that I can't afford a pet at the moment. I won't be like so many other people I've known who get a pet because they are sad that they are poor. That's a facepalm reason right their. If one can not afford to feed themselves how can they afford pet food?
Today I find myself getting bitter. I've had three friends call me, asking me if I'm ok, and even after I say that I'm not they still go into a tyrant about how hard their life is. I understand that life sucks for everybody at some point in time, but this is definitely MY TIME. Why can't someone listen to me and my issues, pass me tissues, and give me a pat on the back. Why do I have to play the proverbial second fiddle to everyone else. Gawd, this is the first time in years I've wished I had a mom.
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Post by Admin on Mar 11, 2012 22:33:35 GMT -5
Still don't have a job. Still don't have money for groceries. Still haven't been able to find a way to fix my life.
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Post by Admin on May 3, 2012 15:21:48 GMT -5
Bad news comes in threes. Everyone knows that. I never believed in it until I took a hard look at my life along time ago. Now I'm always waiting for the third bad thing, or the other shoe to drop, as they say. And bad news for me ONLY follows something that makes me happy. The happy event this time around was a reunion with an old friend. It'd say it went ok. Picked up just where we left off as I knew we would - that's just how we've always been. Seems like the time apart allowed for evil to really ferment.
The next day after our get together I was in a car accident. The little red jeep I was in came out of the incident pretty ok, just a little bit of twisted metal at the front. The truck it hit was very much worse off. They went to the hospital after the crash. I decided not to go to the hospital, but everywhere my seat belt touched me was sore.
Skip ahead a few days. I had very important errands I had to run. And they had to be done first thing in the morning. My stomach was still hurting from the crash. Just bruises thought, I tell myself because I'm too stubborn to think that I could have actually been hurt. All the other pain has gone away. Except where the seat belt crossed my stomach. A friend offered to drive me around to complete my errands. Of course I said yes, the bus was very painful to take--I had tried it already. I spent the night at his place so that we could hang out longer and sleep just that little bit later. When I woke up in the morning the car was gone.
His 'rent had taken the car. He called and she said she could have the car back by noon. That was soooo much later than I could do. I had go get a paper into the printers so they had time to send it out to be printed up good. I was furious that I had relied on him and now I was going to have to spend 15$ I didn't have on a cab ride to the store. I couldn't even take the bus because it would take an hour and a half to get to the store. My friend apologized several times and I accept the apology. And I got over my anger fairly quickly about the failed car. It was what he said that kept my anger boiling.
My friend offered for us to take a cab to this 'rents place of work, pick up the car and then do errands. At first I said no. There really didn't seem to be a point to that course of action. After I took a moment to calm down about the whole situation I agreed. It was going to cost the same for a cab to the car as the stores. And then I wouldn't have to be pained on the bus home. I said, yes, let's do it.
He said, "I don't want to go if your going to be mad at me."
That rocketed my anger up to lethal levels. Of course I'm going to still be mad. It takes me more than 2 minutes to get over my anger. Why would you offer up an idea if you weren't going to go with it. He just made me so angry. I still haven't talked to him, and that was 3 days ago. And I don't see me being the one to break the silence. Losing a friend, second evil thing.
I have a wedding to participate in this Saturday. I'm terrified that the third thing will happen then. And what if the three evils have already visited me, they're selling my apartment building. That's pretty terrible. But after the wedding there will probably be new evils to contend with.
F M L
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