Book 3 December 13 1983 to July 5 1984

8401.02

This is the day the conversation died. Death Dealer and I were together, for one brief moment, we ate, we rode, but we spoke very little. The silence was deafening.
There's a king on a throne with his eyes torn out.
There's a blind man looing for a shadow of doubt.
There's a rich man sleeping on a golden bed.
There's a skeleton chocking on a crust of bread.

Death Dealers the throne, I'm the blind king.
I'm the blind man.
Death Dealer is the man in the golden bed.
I'm the skeleton.
And I'll never know Synchonicity.

Damn if all the music isn't striking my heart. I'm in pain and I have no one to share it with.
The last thing I feel now is clean, the tunes only drag me through more dirt, and clear glass.
I now crown thee, Mister Music, the Bishop of Blood, Carrier of Darkness, Keeper of the Light, and the King of Pain.
I am now Knighted to ride in your, and my friends, shadow.

8401.03 supplimentel

I get the feeling that this is, or should be, my last day on earth.
This is only a feeling though, anyone reading should not think I'm concidering death in anyway. I do intend to fight for the small pieces of life I have, I always will.
Anyone reading this know also that you shouldn't. Because you'll be looking deep into the soul of a man who is not yourself.

"Where is it! Where is it! It has to be here! It has to be! I can't find it! Where is it!?"
The man pleads and he yells as he franticly rumages through the desk flinging aside mask after mask after mask.
"I can't find it anywhere! I've lost it!" cried the facelss man.
"You can't see!" yells Death Dealer
"Hold your ears!" I cry out. There is a roar and a screech.
"See we're safe"
"That was very stupid!" says D.D.
"Dominator does it."
"Can't hate him too much then." Oh, but I do. So why do I do what he does when I hate what he does?
"Why did you do that?" asks D.D.
"Everybody does it." I replied.
"Glad to met you Everybody." I'm not everybody, why did I do that when I'm unique?

"I can't find it anywhere! Its gone!" cried the faceless man kneeling among a mound of masks. He then picks up one, puts to his face, so now he can weep. But they aren't his tears.

*On a lose piece of notebook paper, folded and included in the Journal. I probably wrote this at school and was uncertain if it would survive a trip home. Most likely the reason I addressed it to anyone that might find it - and didn't use any names.*

8401.03

I overcame this great feeling of dread by noon but it was back by three.
Death Dealer walked in whilst I wasn't here and left a note of thanks. I reached out and siezed him.
"Haven't you ever heard of a postal service?!"
"No. What is it?"
"Jerk! Its the way normal people send thank yous for just a few cents without violating my privacy!"
"But my way is so much more fun."
"I told you not to do it!"
"You did not. You said it agrivated you and you didn't like it."
"Well, I'm telling you now God damn it. Don't do it!"
"I'm going to ignore you."
Chang! was the next noise as I hung up abruptly and screamed. I tried to read as thoughts gnawed at me. The thoughts won.
"I'm sorry I hung up. It was rude."
"Don't worry about it. No hard feelings."
"I do anyway and there should be. Goodbye."
You should have been vastly offended my friend.
I called you abnormal not unique. I implied that you were not welcome in my house, . and that you weren't friend enough to respect my privacy.
You are unique, beautifully so, don't change into a regulation.
You are always welcome in my home, anything thats mine is yours also.
And mostly you are more friend then I deserve.
Forgive my mood, but I seem to have lost something of mine, somethings I need to have so I can share it. Its because of its loss I find myself running endlesly in darkness, triping on a sea of masks.
I'm too good an actor. I avoided the art to create a new issue and thus fooled myself. And like a fool, I lost what was mine to give.

I dreamed a future of beauty,
peace and happiness. I had
things to do that I enjoyed, a
son from who I learned, and
the ability to still be your good
friend.

I must give this dream a chance to live. Yet this feeling still persists. And I must again find my lost jewel.

DDK_

*I'm beginning to wonder if I had one of those porno mags sitting out. Actually the fact that I had them at all, hidden in my room, made me nervous anytime anyone went in there with out me. Even if it was to do something as nice as give me a Thank you card.
One of the reasons Marc and I stayed good friends was our ability to forgive each other for what seemed like irrational behavior. We seemed to have the understanding that eventually the reasons would come out. That we would still need a friend when they did.*

8401.04 suplimental

"Just Want to Say Thanks!"
Two fallen dasieys, a cartoon turtle hoping along with three ballons; Blue, Orange, Red.
"Oh Damon, ------
Thank you so very, very, very, very much for the dragon. I sleep with him under my pillow ...

P.S. He's my hero!"
Death Dealer signs and puts his year of manhood.
This is what he delivered by hand the other day.
A kind word, melodrama, a white lie, and an irrating statement I don't mind because its not applied to me.
All for one small puter dragon, given at christmas. "A symbol of your strength, to supply heat to help stoke the fires of your soul, and a hope for vast potencial."

For this I became angry and rude. For this note of care I exploded.
What the Hell is Wrong with Me!!?

My feeling of finallity persists, My revealtion of the day was, "The world is made of Bullshit, and it never smells the same!"
I plunged into the depths of . what I think was my soul. I sent an apoligize to Death Dealer. Impersonally on paper made in a factory.
"Should I apoligize -----------
Or would you rather hit me?
---Please excuse my mood of the past few weeks. I have been rude to you and a few others.
Please bare with me, I'm not over it yet.
Feel free to hit me, or keep me in my place. It may do me some great good.
**** To your happiness
********* DDK_ *skull insignia* --------"

God I hope I wake up soon.

8401.04

Na- ha- ha- ha- ha- ha- ha! Hmm, hmp-
heh-heh-heh-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
No! This Must Stop!
I lost what was mine. I will not find it again. I will make a new one, from scratch, better than the one before.
The cross that is mine I will bear, but there will be rules and ample room for change, welcome change.
Ha! Ha! NO! I will be in control.
I will now drop this mask . of petty tears, and this wall of hostility. I will be in controll.
-How come you feel unwired and diconnnected/ Draw attention to yourself is your life a living hell?
Change your act, re-write the script the way you planned it ------
I will not touch that or Think this.
I will feel what I feel and acknowldge them as feelings.
I will think like a man, not a beast or a wounded animal.
I am me, I am mine, .... ...
True but wrong. Friends!
Friends are important, they do to much to forsake. If I'm mine, then I'm not theres. Thus there must be diversity, compensation.
I am me, I am for learning and sharing.
I will not touch that or Think this! I will drop the mask of petty tears and this wall of hostility.
If feelings of doom come ... let them! I'll fight them off like rabid dogs.
=You will not get away with this =
'Your wrong there darkness. I have you. I acknowledge you, thus I controll you - within rules.'

I am in controll of myself. I demand it!

8401.05

Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh, heh.
Boy you can run,
Don't ya know I'm haven' fun?
Your a real good actor,
And you live a Mascarade.
Better keep that candel burning,
Its the only light you have,
*** And you know ----
There are Demons in the Dark
They screech, they howl, they bark.
Your scared of the night
Because you know you can't fight,
The Demons in the Dark

You can run but you can't hide
Your grasp is firm but you slide.
The light! Its too bright!
But the Darkness you must fight!
It tempts you, taunts you, guides you,
You slip, you slide, you fall,
*** Into the grasp of
The Demons in the Dark
They screech, they howl, they bark
Your scared of the night
Because the dark you can't fight.
There are Demons in the Dark

Run, run to you friends and tell a lie.
Heh, heh, the images will fly!
Don't you know? there is no cure.
But something you should know, your
friends, they are not pure
The battle's far from won,
Ha! Your not the only one!
*** They to have
Demons in the Dark .
That screeh, that howl, that bark
They're scared of the night
The darkness they can't fight
They have Demons in the Dark
*** They're only different
Demons in the Dark
*** But the very same
Demons in the Dark
*** We all have them
Demons in the Dark
*** You can't fight them
Demons in the Dark
*** Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh
Demons in the Dark.
------------------------------
I hear this music. Music heavy with bass gitaur and low, haunting cords. Acidic rock of the Nuggent style.
The voice, that voice that sings is low and gruff. The chorus is deeper still and echoe's slightly. The laugh is sinister. *I know nothing of music but I would often write lyrics that I could picture being sung. This one such effort. Reading this now, I know what I meant, but I've got a few more angels that match what it's trying to say.*
--------------
It's only been a day but I've held controll. I've done what I set out to do.
Only one day.
I will continue. I will hold controll. My demons have tempted me and I have resisted thus far.
Only one day.
I will go futher and further. I must. I will. I need a chanel.
Only one day.
Ha- Ha- Ha! heh- heh- heh! Ha- Ha- Ha!
*Anyone know what I'm talking about? The next entry will clear it up some.*

8401.06

Only one day. I lost control, for one moment in one faction.
I touched that, once, but just the same I touched it.
It drained the images from my mind though. It made me feel good though. I feel more in control now.
Control is my key. My key is my control.

Now rude Doppelganger, die!
*That's right ... I'm attempting to stop masturbating. Stop it all together. I'm 17. It's a nice thought but it isn't going to happen.*

8401.07

I touched that. I'm going to stop that. Because I'm on the right track - again.
I've eaten my last bit of junk, I again crave meat.
I feel good! I'm vibrant! I have energy once again.
I practice sword, chuck's and self. I am part of a gym and I will finally practice with wieghts that don't touch my soul.
I intend to learn skill from Death Dealer, Theseus, and the Indian in Black. I will become great.
My dreams now will have there chance of reatization! *realization - when I get excited, like I am here, I have a tendency to dot and cross everything.*
I have offered and made the chances, now I must take them and push myself to the limit - Be DDK_ *Skull insignia - though its so excitedly scribbled you might not recognize it* ha! rude

8401.09

Ya-ha! what a Thriller!
I am in total control of myself, as far I have ever been in controll.
Off I went to the place of wieght and work. My guide was my hieght but twice my sieze.
My legs were fine, my abdomen grand. My treasure though was well worked.
Tis grand to know that muscels thought long ago atrophied away are still there. I know they are there, they ache slightly now.
I felt like jelly, my mouth was dry. The fountain spit at me and I was determined to continue and win out.
This renews my vim, and vigour! My struggles have new energy.
I haven't touched that, and even though the urge is there I will not! I evil thought lurched forward and stung with a crack of my whip, and sent it back were it belonged. *should be 'An evil thought' but I clearly wrote an I. Freud would have a field day with this journal.*

I danced to hell, howl, and moon. I feel good.
Once again I'm in control, and its me, not a mask.
DDK _

8401.1Ø

And the words circle on in my head. Pieces of Lyric stick and float endlessly.
- I need you now more than ever ... I love you ... but what are going to do with me now? -
- Don't pray for me now, save it for the morning after. ---
+ and then a lines from "Murder in the Cathedral" that go some-thing like
* In your skull theres a circle of pain ...
... Walking in your land of make-believe ....
... Thus we must disregard thee ...
... Weaving fantasy that comes
unraveled as you weave ... .. +

Death Dealer's ultimate hell - as by my thought and his description.
"Don't leave me! No! I'm becomeing separated from God!"
Its black all about him as he floats in a nothing, feeling nothing, seeing nothing, hearing nothing (not even himself), as he screams nothing.
He floats deprived of all stimuli. He is aware of small demons, chanting profanities to him. Soon its all he can remember as he floats in nothing.

My hell is simular, but can I be spearated from one I don't believe in.
Death Dealer learned today - He knows I choose not to have the beast about . but he's there anyway. "But still", he says "it dosen't excuse what they are, or how I feel about them."
One day maybe you'll be ready to learn of the one behind me.
*This doesn't mean I told him I'd rather not be gay. Obviously we had a discussion about some religious topics that day. I'm sure the discussion went something along the lines of "I'd rather gays not be around, but they are. I can tolerate them." and Death Dealer (Marc) replying "But still it doesn't excuse what they are, (God forsaken) or how I feel about them. (I hate them)"*

8401.11

It's dark, and I sit in a wheel chair. The hour of light will be soon and I'm afraid.
Soon the guiding light will rise, and her harsh, vibrant, laser-like light will beat down on my cripple body.
But I won't admit I'm a cripple. I grip the edge of a window and pull myself to stand. I have no balance, no strength, but I stand. I have no weapons and I do battle. She shines so bright, and so beautiful, so dangerous.
I slip, I hang by the window edge, and she shines on this courageous, cripple figure.

That's what I see happening in this dark room from my wheel chair.
The moon sets, the sun rises, soon the light will strike.
I need skill, and maybe luck.
DDK_ *drawing of a wheel chair*

*Test day with my favorite (and hardest) teacher. Essay tests always make me nervous because you feel unprepared. This was one of the first teachers that asked me to think ... it was scary.*

8401.12

The sun didn't shine. Clouds bloted the sky and sent down the white death.

And I saw myself running. I was in Indian mountains, Indian in Black nowhere in sight. I was grateful as I ran.
I wore black boots. They helped me climb, but I had to avoid running water because they would fill and drag me under. I wore black pants. They kept me warm, but I had to avoid water because they would not dry and thus steal my heat. My shirt was the same. I wore a black vest. It had no qualities. I wore a black leather coat. It kept me warm, but It hung around my knees and held me down. Because of the leather I had to avoid animals because they became angry at the scent. I wore one black glove, on my left.
I ran, I ran hard! I looked back and saw the black grizzely that pursued me. He snorted steam in the cold and grunted as he ran. I couldn't tell him from bear or dragon. So I ran.
I ran through the trees and came to a clearing with a frozen waterfall. I look back and I see no bear.
As I rest I notice a beautiful . red rose, in the frozen fall.
I stand on the frozen stream and reach for the rose at chest hieght. My right hand touches the ice and it melts away around the rose.
It was so beautiful, this rose. Soft, supel, red and vibrant with traces of dew. It was so pure.
I reach for it, but afraid of thorns, I use my black gloved left hand.
I touch it but can't feel it. I try to pull it close but before I can, my hand tingles and the rose freezes to a chilly, deathly white color. Fear swept over me as the rose shattered at the delicate touch, and Death Dealer's pieces fell about my feet.
Ther was a roar and I turned to see the bear lunge, and I sliped on the ice.
The huge 12" paws raked my body with its 4" claws. His strength was incredible.
"The glove" I thought in my agony "It froze the rose! Why not the bear?"
I fought back for the first time, but it back fired. I touched the Balck Grizzely with the glove and two like forces met and struck back. I burned from my left hand on.

As I burned in agony I lost consciousness. When I regained it I was the bear and my claws were mercilessly disfiguring the already dead body of the Indian in Black.
Shock Struck, as a bear I reared up on my haunches and roared at the top of my massive lungs.
A shot ran out. As my my massive lungs collapsed and my heart burned and I fell and saw the hunting party.
Death Dealer and the Indian in Black.

8401.13

His words cut like blades. I don't believe he's ever hit me so hard. You make me think too much Dealer of Death.
I felt good, I wanted to spar. Death Dealers mood, I believe was far from serious. I wanted a challenge. I hit hard.
"You hit hard! I don't hit hard. Here's a light punch!"
The blow struck in the chest, nothing I couldn't handel.
"Here's a medium." He struck my upper abdomen. I was winded, nothing I couldn't handel, just what I wanted.
"That was still light. Here's a . few more." The blows came, one after another as he circled me. His sister, the bird, screeched her insistance that we stop. This was because, I don't know why I did, perhaps the glove, but I just stood there facing him, takeing the blows.
Robin cherped and the lights went out. Only the glow from T.V. light the room. Death Dealer smiled and I couldn't help but think how demonic he looked.
I few more blows came, then just circeld. Then he stoped. He waited a long time, I kept waiting for the blow. He made two fist, then slowly put them down, nodded and sat down.
I continued to stare at thim. I gave him the finger to try and goat him back.
"You insult me to think that would anger me enough to continue." I stood in silence, staring.
"Whats the matter? Wall to hard to climb?"
"What's wrong with him?" asked the bird.
"He's upset because I won't play his game. I have my own games and there not his rules."
The blow came but it wasn't physical. That hurt a great deal.
=This isn't right= I thought.

>I'm playing a game. If I stop now he'll think I'm upset and pouting like a baby because he's not playing my game. If keep standing here he'll think I still playing<
The phone rang. I used the distraction to go downstairs, away from the game.
I grabed one of his nunchuca and practiced a grip change in the dark of his room.
>Was I playing a game?<
I debated wtih myself long in dark as I twirled those sticks.
Then I put them back on the wall. Readyed myself to leave. I found Death Dealer, with his head in his arms as if asleep or thinking - I wondered what he thought. Suddenly he looked up.
"You make me think too much." I said and left, still thinking.

My walls are to hard to climb, but damn, I climb them anyway.

8401.14

We used to be Dreamers encuraged,
We used to be Dreamers on the rise,
Now we're just Dreamers on the run,
* Life is never a fantasy
* Reality is life Betrayed.

God we had fun today, but only in a superfiacal way. Death Dealer made the coment It might have been more fun with a quart of rock gut.

8401.15

I never believe such words could do this to me. I followed Death Dealer to the alter of his God. I went ... for many reasons I now see as false, I don't know why I went.
I listened to words I haven't herd in ages. Not since I was vivid dreamer following the footsteps of a magician.
That beautiful mage nutred me, cared for me and planted the words in me. He cared about those words, they ment a lot to him.
I admired this worker of magic, I emulated him. I listened to the words, learned the rules, and practiced in his footsteps.
The tricks I could understand, the words I couldn't. When the Magician's footsteps ended so did all his work and care. I stoped listening to the words, I stoped practicing the tricks, for thats all they became. Words and Tricks, empty one at that.
Tonight I heard those words again, and I remembered many things.
When the Magician left I curled my hair, to symbolize my confusion and lack of direction. Soon after I began to wear a wide brined hat. This symbolized my withdrawl into myself for it hid my face in shame of the growing beast and kept my thoughts in my head.

Soon I realized I couldn't live like this. An echo from those words told me "No." So I took off my hat. My ideas flowed, I met people and I was in no shame of a bigger beast.
But something was wrong. I began to lose myself, I was falling apart. Then I wore a headband to hold my head together. I could exspand within limits, my ideas could get out, but the new ones stayed until they were to big. Just recently I lost the need for that headband.
Now all I have is my curly hair. My confusion keeps me in my place, my lack of direction keeps me from going were I don't want to go, and were I want to go.
Tonight the words echoed loudly, but like all echoes it faded fast. I was a poor soil before, I still am. I believed many of the things said, but one could not get out of my mind - "Its less painful to expect nothing that to waist your life hoping for the impossible."
They said it, and believed it. Then went on to say "God (Jesus Christ, Lord, He, it, ect) was in control and knows what he's doing."
I believe the first, not the second. I can't see how one can believe both. But evidently one can and . I'm thankful that they have a faith in something they can believe. Because those belifes guide there lives in positive directions. If thats what they feel they need, I don't, and never have, obected.
I hope Death Dealer, that your faith is as strong as steel for as long as you feel you need it to be. And I'm sorry those "seeds" can't grow in me, for I know that you would like me more if they would, or had.

I'm sorry your garden failed, Grandfather. I'm sorry I failed you.
*Drawing of a cross - at the base it expands into roots and there is a seed inside. To the left is a drawing of a Top Hat (like a Magician wears) below it is white gloves, rings around a wand and cards below them meeting with the roots. To the right are a wide brimmed floppy hat with curly hair and a head band.*

*I don't know if it's clear that I'm referring to a Christian parable about how the seeds of Gods word take root. Some seeds fall on good soil and grow into strong plants. Others fall on rocks and grow nothing. Some fall on bad soil and grow weak plants - that need constant tending if they are to survive. Why I would have thought my Grandfathers garden failed I don't know (Actually I do - I felt that if I didn't believe in a Christian God then it had failed). Thing is the seeds did grow. I know the rules - I have the morals - I just don't have a belief in a Christian God. The Bible says many things that I believe completely. I don't need God to enforce them or believe in them. I am a good person - and I know it because I can judge what is right from wrong and I don't need God to tell me. In me God planted a Lily and a Rose grew. What a miracle that is. *

© 1998 June (© implied by entry date, but reflects web publication)