Book 2 June 9 1983 to December 12 1983

8306.24 considered

=I have found new energy.= said the meditating boy deep in the caverns of my mind. His mind free from all physical obligations concintrates and begins to meditate upon energy. =I have tapped this source of energy= he stated in his mental voice as he began to crackle with black energy. =I shall use this energy. The black tiger will do my will!=
I strolled into a small book shop with a small boy outside the door yelling the titles of books alowd *I think this a combination of aloud and allowed* to the crowd like some, towncrier. I walked in with the intent of looking for a birthday gift for the Dealer of Death. But black energy seared through my mind changing my intent.
I walked, almost as with intent, to a particular self. I resisted the energys and there influence. I struggled and began to reach. With every iota of my will I resisted and at that moment I siezed a different book, similar, yet not the same. The meditating boy forced me to look through it and pick out what knowledge he wanted.
I set down the magizen. Again the meditating boy tired to controll my actions. I resisted, yet I began to reach.

Suddenly from behind me came a voice from the recent past.
'It looks like Damon Killgrave.'
Suddenly everything colapsed and the power surges gone. I turned and faced the Indian in Black.
'How are you, Killgrave?' he asked.
'Oh, I'm fine.' I lied, and mentally said thank you for the help he unwillingly gave.
'Well then I'll see you later, stay cool dude.'
'Yah, I'll try. See you later.' the Indian in Black walked off out of my sight, then like a wave it washed over me. The energy, the boy, reasserted himself over-me and in a quick off-gaurd attack, I unwillingly siezed the book and purchased it.
'My god! What have I done?!' I asked myself as I ran to the vehicel of my transportation, the book still in my hands.
'Home, I must get home!' the vehicle sped along the black ribbon of assphalt.
Once home I hid the book and quitely settled down. I would act as if nothing happened. I'd let noone know of my weaknesses, No one!
Death Dealer called next. I suddenly remembered his birthday, he was going to invite me to the water and flurt with death. He called to ask if I would like to sneak a preview of this. I accepted.

With Speed and shorts I went, the trip long and silent, despite.
Water, Water everywhere, and not a drop to drink.
'Sieze the rope. Hold it between the sky and water. Don't pull it, it will pull you.' Death Dealer then pulled a little letting me bob in the water.
The water beast infront of me roared and then ran, or swam off. I was dragged merily behind him. First, I lost all support and will. I sank below water draged by the beast. All had to do was let go and be safe, yet I held on. Death Dealers mind sliced through mine like a dagger and cut the rope I held.
'Its not your time, not yet.'
I replied yes, and went on. Next time I rose above water only to fall, as I did on the third time.
On the fourth and fifth try I merily flew above the water even if only for short times. My life spirits raised along. The adrenilin flowed threw me.
I was alive and proud of it. I had lost track of time as we continued to travel the water. I wasn't sure if the book event even happened. But I check the hiding place and know it did.

*Btw' Town Crier is the name of the book store I went into. If you can't tell this is about the first time I actually bought a 'pornographic' magazine. Actually, I believe it was a muscle magazine I picked up first, with the closest thing to naked men I could get away with. That is went I was 'caught' by a friend of mine. Imagine the terror of almost being caught by your peers with a magazine full of naked men. If it was a playboy or something, hell, he might have helped me buy it or even recommended a better one - but not what I was about to pick up. Especially since I was still trying to deny that I was so inclined. Btw' for my age of days from 17 I looked older. I was often told since I was 15 I looked like I was 20. I wasn't even asked for ID. I was sly, I was confident.
I had just gotten away with one of the rights of passage for any teenage boy - buying a 'nudie' book - and I couldn't even tell anyone. Let alone brag or feel good about it.
I got that feeling from Death Dealer teaching me to water sky. I still remember the feeling of finally rising above the water and riding across it.*

8306.25

The day of Deaths life aproaches. I shoped and found what I believe an aproprite gift. A marble bull, standing steadfast and determined. For Death Dealer is steadfast and dertermind, like the pose. Stuburn and fierce, like the bull. Strong, sturdy, hard, smooth, and beatiful, like the marble.
Today I saw a super man having conflicts inside himself. He was a good man, he turned evil, and knew it wrong. A light glisend on his forehead and he split himself into the componet parts, what he was - good, and what he is - evil. Each fought eachother, evil pounding blow upon blow to the good. Good finally struck back and won.
If I were melted down into my componet parts, a war of infinet sides, allies, and free-for-alls would be posible. Then if only one remained could it operate by its self?
Is it the same with everyone else, these componet part wars? or is it just me? or could it be I'm only more aware of my war?
If all my questions were answered, I would only continue, questioning the answers.
Thus I am, said I
. . .Damon
. . . . D'artagnon
. . . . . . Killgrave . . . *skull insignia*

8306.26

And the Tempest raged! The tears of heaven fell lightly at first then in torents to match the thunderous sobs.
As I felt the charge in the air I became one with the storm. There was no wind, only rain. There should be rain, I thought. So I became the wind. I howled like a furious wind, and as the rain splattered on my face I ran like the wind! Faster, faster ever faster still. I no longer felt the ground, or the change in hieght between concrete and asphalt, I only ran.
I finally had to stop. I slowed down to a stop, crouched slightly and let out one more Tempest howl.

Death Dealer, I met some one new. He's had all he can take of the system justice. First his wife then his child. He has nothing left. So he shed the idenity Bronson and took on Deathwish. He prowls the night dealing death to the wicked and the scum who killed his wife and child.
This vigilante, Deathwish, has become a hero to those opressed by the unlaw and scum.
I know under the same conditions Death Dealer could, but would he?
I know I might, but could I succeed?
Should either of us try?

8306.27

Tomorrow is the day of Death Dealers Birth. 1 score and 6 year ago came forth the life of my best friend. This new life was mared by a possiblity of death yet this strong life persivered.
In time years, he's one behind me, in phyisical years he's one behind and several ahead, mental years I believe he serpases me by leaps and bounds.
My he never reads what follows untill I have passed on to another stage, one way or another.
This persistant life that is my friend is also an idol of mine, a hero and a standerd. I try hard not to expect much out of him, but he hasn't failed me yet in a major way or recovered from a minor failuer.
However this hero of mine also houses some of my greatest fears. He plays with weapons of Death as if toys, and though I trust, he often gets cocky, careless and a bit dangerous. Also his tendancy to alcohal*alcohol*, even though small, I fear it for he is a friend dear and the drug I hate for it kills.
Death Dealer pointed out earlier that I was his only friend at which he had never been angry. I realized he was correct. I deserve it not, for I have provoked him many times. Yet he has never been mad at me, nor I at him. How unique. Happy B-day >DD> *That is a DD with a diagnal arrow through it for Death Dealer*

8306.28

It's! It's! A Ballroom Blitz!
It's! It's! A Birthday Bash!
The entire day filled with fun and surprizes.
'þ Happy Birthday to you Þ' *those are suposed to be notes - typing alows me only so much*
I attempted to sing into the reciever.
'Thanks. Why don't you come on over and jog with me.' He answers.
'Is that a demand or a Birhtday request?' I asked jokingly.
'Whats the difference?' he answered back. We both laughed and I quickly got dressed and drove over to the abode of my friend.
After a long quite jog with light conversation and quick sprint, we walked and talked of many things.
I then returned home showerd, dressed fro the day and left. I drove the car to school for my nothers use and then got into the car with Death Dealer and his brother.
At his home we waited until Thesus, the Artist and Death Dealers cousin came of presents.
Then began the journey to water. I thought deeply there and back and wondered what the Dealer was up to in the other car.
Once in the water we had both yin and yang. Many details elude me but events went something like this.

We unloaded the boats and drove the Vyking around and unloaded the car into the boat. Then after many a trial and error the Mother found a sight to begin cooking food.
All but the brother of Death Dealer came next to ski.
Of all that day Death Dealer looked the best as he, like a snake, weaved from one side to another, spraying out a fin of water from his slolem ski.
I finally rose out of the water like a great beast and flew like a bird skiming the water. The adrenilin pump was one of the greatest I have ever eperienced. Death Dealer has changed my life.
After the food all is a great blur of skiing fun and laughter. Except the tragity which struck Death Dealer. While out instructing the Artist to ski his legs badly cramped and put him in an observers posision the rest of the day.
Late we returned to his home and gourged ourselves of food and watched him open his presents. A new weapon of Death, a shirt of love and a book of Quest.
Then they returned us all home. I sit now in my realized agony.

I am sunburned and brused. I have battle scars from a day of fun and enjoyment. Scars well earned and well worth it.
I intend to sleep soon and later the next morn to awake and see how Death Dealer held together and perhaps arange for him to journey with me to the land of the Dominator and help me hold a nutral ground to my person against the Dominator.
Merpheus takes me over as does the burdons of the days activityies. I will sleep now and try to discontinue raditing heat.
Many Happy Wishes to you Dealer or Death
May you always be in good Spirits and health, may your life last as long as you wish.
*pictures of martial arts weapons that Death dealer liked. The Katana (a Sword), Nunchuka, whip, Sia, arrows, and Shuriken*

*This water skiing trip still lives in our memories. We talk about it to this day. Three things I can't believe I didn't mention. If not for his father, Marc nearly drown when his legs cramped. As the boat pulled around he went under. His father (slightly taller then me but built like a brick wall) just reached under the water and pulled him out and set him in the boat. Kind of like you might reach in and pick a kitten up by the scruff of the neck. We where all amazed and relieved.
The Artist - a very good friend of ours from art classes (and very talented thus her name here)- was wearing a one piece tube swim-suit. After she fell of once, the boat pulled around for her and she momentarily tried to wave us off. this was because she nearly lost her suit all together and was trying to put it back on as we approached. We all thought this was funny - the other guys where much more intrigued though ;)
This was only matched by me. I've never really liked being wet with a lot of clothes on. I think to the dismay of many of the others I was wearing a speedo (at the time the smallest male swim-suit you could have - my mother hated it also). After I fell off the boat pulled around for me as I bobbed in the water at about waist level. As they approached I asked for a pair of pliers - "So I can pull this speedo out of my ass!". I fell on my butt - the high impact on the water gave me a wedgie you wouldn't believe.
The bruises I refer to - I don't know how many have ever been water skiing, but when you fall against the water at high speeds you get these huge, bizarre and terrible looking bruises. They tell me they are called 'water rash'. They don't really hurt - but they will make your mother cry.*

8306.29

Death Dealer and the Artist droped by today, Thesus is on a long journey and will not return for for many days. In no disrespectable way the Artist only flitted about like a frail woman and did not much at all.
Death Dealer read from my book of Ronin, the story of a reincarnation of a masterless samuri, a Ronin, in the body of a limbless boy with bio-circutry limbs.
Later he and I, plans of a moving picture show ruined by the Artist, went out in our moods of death and tired to master a weapon of returning death.
I watched his muscular, thin and flexible body fling the weapon over and over under my sun, furrowed borw. We threw the weapon in alternate turns and evolved a style in which we could throw the weapon and estimate its place of landing. It began to return to us after coasting through the air in its deadly way.
When we returned to home we three did many things, some very crazy. Death Dealer and the Artist then went home and I now write.
I habbit of meditation has slacked off, but tonight I will return to that state of bliss for I cannot think. My muddeled mind needs help and rest. Thus I do.

*Many years ago my Grandfather had brought a Boomerang back from Australia. We decided to see if we could get it to come back. We couldn't really get it to work. They need better instructions*

8306.3Ø

The last of this month, the new starts tomorrow. The date of my birth is tomorrow and I will come upon the age of 1Ø and 7 years. |28|, 29, 3Ø, |Ø1|. Two days between an exact year apart in the age of myself and Death Dealer.
Aside from a year more of reponsibilty heaped upon my shoulders, it will be a day no different from any other. Gifts will be bestowed upon me for surviving another year, yet 'I don't believe in suriviving. I believe in living.'
I live life to its fullest. Live each day as if it were last, yet stay within your morals, ethics, and believes. Make plans, yet make them flexable.
Life is a game, and there are no rules. In its game I play pawn, king, rook, bishop, queen, and Joker.
Tomorrow I will celebrate. Death Dealer will be by, I will go by the Calm Struggling Aliens, I will be about.
Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock. The clock tick tocks the time at a steady beat. The music flows through the air in an equally steady pace. First five then four now three, three minutes to the witching hour and my birth day. For day begins in night as night gives way to day. Two now one, only Seconds to go. Goodnight. *Skull insignia*

8307.01

Hello darkness, my old friend. It scares me theat the words of prophets are writen on subway wall and Tenat halls. I don't believe in surviving, I believe in living.
I awake to the lilting sound of rock music, wafting down in my room and permeating my mind. I crawled out of bed and looked in a mirror. This is unusual, but I did it anyway. I looked at my reflection, turned my head from side to side then spoke to myself.
'Well, this is the day. You don't look a year older. I don't feel a year older. Today is like any other. Why treat it different?'
The reflection didn't answer, so I left. I dressed myself for a run. I went upstairs to find waiting for me a huge card made by my mother. I read it then left for my usal 2 mile run.
The run was exhilerating and it felt good to exersize. I was in my own world once again. Even with others around you are alone.
I then came home and doused myself in water. I got out and dried myself, then turned to the matter of dressing myself. This day is no different that any other, I thought, but I can get away with more. What am I, I thought, I am a collection of rags, a tetterdemalion gypsy of another land. Thus I dressed.

I put on my glasses, and looked for underwear. Finding none I walked about in birthday suit and collected the days atire. My red head-band, my white fuffy shirt, my black pants, my mocicine boots, my blue vest, and navy blue bikini underwear, and my black buckel-in-the-back coin belt.
I ate breakfast once dressed and spent the morning, drawing, thinking, meditating, and lisening to music. At noon I ate a small lunch then came the call to alter a day.
Rinc-'Hello.' I spoke.
'Hi Birthday boy!' spoke back the voice of Death Dealer in a near sarcastic - joking tone.
'Hey Death Dealer! Whats up?' I said back ingnoring the statement of my birth day.
'Your age for one,' He retorted.
'Cut it out, please.' I asked.
'Your the birthday boy.' he said.
'O.K. Death Dealer.'
'I'm done in my garden of life work. I intend to douse myself and drop over the rest of the day.'
'Great. I'll be here.'
'Oh, hey. Is it allright if my cousin comes along?' he asked
'Fine. I can handle it.' Death Dealer laughed and we said good-bye.
Soon afterward Death Dealer and cousin came. We sat and talked and decided to go and get the Artist.
'She always says her hair or something is out of place. So lets just drop by.' suggested Death Dealer. So we called her not, and went to get her anyway, to see what would be out of place. Were we in for a surprize!
'Hello Hello Hello! Is anyone about?!' we all shouted pounding upon the door. Then opened the door. We three stood silent for an instant and then began to laugh hestericly for stood the wirery form of the Artist, beaded in moisture and wraped in a towel.
'I was taking a shower guys! If it were anyone else I wouldn't have opened the door. Now get in here!' she said in a slight peturbedness.
'It's my birthday and I see your birthday suit! You don't think thats funny!' I said holding back the snickers.
She got dressed and we talked, and after a long wait, we left to see the Calm struggeling Alien. I called, he was not there, we dropped by, he was not there.
Home we hoped to see my mother dear, who had returned from work to joltingly hear 'Hi Mom, were home!'
Grandmas were in order to visit. The Dominators mother I would have skiped but kindness was in my heart.
'I'll drive.' said Death Dealer, 'Your a birthday - boy.'
'I'll drive.' I countered 'You've driven all morning. I'll give you a break.'
'I'm not tired but whatever you want you're the birthday boy.'
I playfully hit Death Dealer and told him to stop. He said fine, I'm the birthday boy.
'This isn't like you Death Dealer.' I replied.
'This is your day. Do as you want.'
We piled into my car and we drove to the mother of the Dominator. We reached our distination yet found no place to stop. When we did, we walked back to the abode of Her. I gave my fellows a chance to stay behind, they stood fast and followed me in only to have to hunt for her to.
Once found we were taken back to her home, where we all walked in and sat.
I felt locked in a room trying to generate conversation to save my life and the integrity of friends. I had to duck and counter well hiden insults and implications of worthlessness.
Conversation died three times. Each time her glaring eyes fell upon me and started again on worthless subjects.
As quick as I could I withdrew my friends from this closing and stuffy room.

Going back to get mother we went to her mothers. Food awaited us here, food of the best kind. Conversation flurished and the fun began. The Artist even called her place of work and lied her self sick to stay with us.
I toured my three friends of the house my Mother's Mother lived. I showed them the hide-outs, forts, passages and hiding places that lied within its emensity.
Before we left we called a Godfather and ordered more food, then we said farwell after pictures and went to get that food.
We bought the food and drinks to go along then forged homeward. We all sat down and continued to eat and become blouted. Then came the rock of life, the fighter of the ring. Rocky III! We watched this and cheered and booed, and cried. Then we put food away continued talking and then came the next major event.
I said something to Death Dealer which should have and under other circumstances would have, gotten my block knocked off. I awaited the blow with anticipation but only heard,
'Your the Birthday boy.'
'God Dang it!' I said 'Act normal! That's what I want!' *Btw' that's what I would have said - I didn't start cursing out loud until the last day of my senior year - Death Dealer was there for it*
'You want me to lay you low?' he asked

'Yes, but not because I'm a birthday boy. Because you want to, and because its you.' there was a pause, then he took a stance to indicate he was ready. I counterd and we began.
He struck qickly and rapidly and batted me into a corner. I then reached out and found a sheet, I used it like a whip. It shot out like lightning and snaped against Death Dealers shoulder and back. Death Dealer steped back a bit stuned, I droped the sheet and returned in rapped fire. He counterd my blows and I counterd his. Then I made him laugh, caught him off blance and took him to the floor with a minor injury to myself. I then put him in a head lock and there we stayed. He tring to get out, I not letting him, he breathing hard, I fearing injury to him, or to myself should I let go or he gets lose. 2 and a half minutes we stayed then he broke lose. I countered his, he countered mine. We bowed in truce then huged eachother in rejoyce.
All soon left, and here I write. At 10:55 I recieved a call, in the middle of writing, from the mother of the Calm struggling Alien. He is gone, she knows not were and wishes to know. It's 11:43, I've heard nothing, I wish him well. Goodnight.

*I'm fairly certain the Death Dealer (Marc) took it easy on me until that towel whip. I got lucky on the head lock. Then it became a training exercise. I remember Marc asking me not to let go so he could figure a way out. It relieved a lot of that really weird stress I'd been feeling the whole day. Evidently the others felt it also - we found out later that his cousin had come down for something and saw us 'fighting' and though we might really be trying to kill each other.
As for the Calm Struggling Alien not being home. This wasn't the first or the last time he had vanished from his home. When I said I wished him well - it was because I knew he was trying to escape. I didn't know where he was, but in most cases I wouldn't have told her where he was anyway.*

8307.02 writen out book transcribed

I float now through space, an empty space, whose color is white, the absence of all.
I stand on a small piece of ground which is full of cracks and trembles every time I move.
Then from out of the empty whiteness came the attack. The undulating form of Choas lept toward me and my small asteriod. Choas stood at a dizzinh hieght with his human like form contorting to odd and strange perportions. His color was as eratic as his form, splashing in colors from all over the rainbow but mostly in red, black, white and purple features. His fist inlarged greater that the rest of him, it flew down toward my shaky asteriod. I quickly jumped to avoid the fate which soon came to the only ground I had.
The small rock flew about in all directions as little pebbles. My only solice now became a shower of deadly hail.
I yelled in my mind for help, yet showed no external emotion for I didn't know what to feel!
=Death Dealer! Help me! I need someone to help me!=
I threw my hands up over my head and I closed my eyes and kept silently yelling for help. When I next opened my eyes I was in a black infinity. I heard a noise, like a muffeled knocking, and turned to see my mother locked in a mirror. I ran to the glass and placed my hands over her hands, only I met glass instead of flesh. Then she cried in pain and the mirror shattered. The pieces flew about as did the the pieces of asteriod.
My clothes were now torn apart and I bled a little. 'Death Dealer' I kept calling in my mind. 'Help me please.'
Then came an evil and echoing laughter. I turned to face the image of the Dominator.
'No!' I yelled. In my need to escape I turned and ran.
To my confused surprise I turned into my room.
A glint hit my eye and I walked across the room to it. A knife! A new weapon in my room, hanging from the lamp cord. Lamp cord? A pathe to the light?
Bloody images of self mutilation and suicide flashed in my mind, all using the knife.
I stoped the images, I knew it was wrong! I droped to my knees then backward to lay on the floor. I wanted to cry, but I didn't know if I should.
Death Dealer, I called again. I would give a lot to have someone like me by my side, just to hold. Someone who cared would be better, but I wish there was someone here to hold, simply hold as a tether to reality.
I feel so lost, alone, confused, and alone. I lay here alone, I awake tomorrow alone, all alone
I need someone. I need help. But I wish not to burdon anyone with my problems.
Apart, filed, granted? together.
Happy, steadfast, sane, confused.
I'll cry not for the Dominator, Confusion, or insanity, for you are a waste of tears, you're not worth the salt in my tears.
Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to get used by you
Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them want to be abused
Sweet Dreams are made of these
Who am I to disagree?!

I am, Damon D'artgnon
Killgrave *Skull insignia* and I do
Disagree and will if I feel I must

Nothing is more fleeting than courage
*picture of a dagger driven through a weeping skull*

© March 1998 (copyright implied by date of entry, date covers web publication)