Book 3 December 13 1983 to July 5 1984

8401.17

Anguish! The darts fly with notes attached. They peirce my mind and heart causing pain without physical damage - thus it can continue forever.
'Man, to thy self be true. Troll, to thy self be ... enough."
The cold closes in about me and I shiver violently. My friends are about me but I dare not draw closer. They radiate life giving heat but I must force myself to be cold.
"I of sound body leave all my worldly posesions, and anything left, to my friends. For they will survive the cold I shall die in."

I felt unclean, I was unclean. I striped myself naked and found a stream. The water was pure, clear, and unpolluted. I dove in and plunged deep down in a arc back to the surrface. My hair was dry, the water beaded off my flesh without touching it. I steped out of the pool, I perfectly dry, not one spot was wet. Then I turned to the water and I wept as I saw the muddy brown water rage past me.
I put on my pants, then my glove, and shirt. I walked off over the thorns barefoot. I felt nothing but tears.

8401.18

The Light quoted many things to day, several struck home hard.
"An Artist is a man, spearated from man by his vocation"
Then the most painful --
"A person begins with illusions (expecting fullfillment) then finds himself in a series of conflicts and troubles witch almost always bring ruin to him and force him to injure others (§ Most likely his friends§). He becomes trapped in a cycle of hopes unatainable and real suffering."
Ibson fears man has become so social that he has become nothing. For one is none when part of only grey masses.
But I have fought Bøyg's darkness. I am unique. I try to stay away from the grey mass because I am a black-blot with no way or want to change color.
Like Peer Gynt I'm no hero, because of what I am and what I do for it. But I'm no villian either because I suffer in my thoughts.¬ caught in my cycle o real suffering.
God help me, I can't find the right mask, because I don't want one but know I must have one. For now I simply keep switching from one to another.

8401.19

Darkness claims me and I tell truths that are real as jesting lies. Then they all realize too late.
Peer never found himself and was melted into the ladel. This because the only place he was himself was in someone else.
Billy Jack was white but became red because thats what he was. He fought for he thought was right and just. He payed dearly for it also.
We are nothing, or less than nothing, if not ourselves. What am I?
I am me. I am an individual, I dress for me, I act for me, I do for me. These include my blackness, my guilt, my pride, my love, and my friendship. I place importance in friendship. I may know self (I may not) but I am not selfish. Am I?

At the half year switch I lost regular contact with Death Dealer. Its only been a week and I miss him greatly.

8401.21

Not much to say, I was as lost as the day was short.

8401.22

It is 5:30PM and I've been awake for about four and a half hours. *You see, I have always been a night owl*
My dreams were of friends. My nightmares were of friends. My Dreams were nightmares, my nightmares were dreams. How can this be? That is normal for me.
Death Dealer where are you? It's dark here, I can't see. Where are you?!
Its been a week. I'm doing okay. If Death Dealer answers me, I won't go where he say he is. Instead I'll go somewhere else. Not because I hate him, wish to aviod him or even because I wish to be in the dark alone. I don't. I will go else where because I love him, and won't put him through my torcher.
The same goes for Theseus, the Indian in Black and the struggling Alien.

Point - They shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks.
Counter Point - The sword is no spade, no plow, and to use it to till the earth would be to . degrade it.
P- Why is a hoe or a plowshare a less honorable object that a murdering, slaughtering sword?
CP- How do you beat a sword, with your arms?
Conclusion - If you can bend a sword into a plowshare, you have got strong arms.
---------- Diffinition -----
A warrior is one with two skills.
1^st The ability to deffend his beliefes and his society of friends.
2^nd to work peacably in the society of friends he deffends.
The second must take precidence over the first without letteing the first become weak.
*This opposed to being a Fighter that knows only how to fight*

I am no hero, I am no villian. I am half a warrior, maybe less. I have no society to deffend, but I do have friends I would die for. My skills of war are few but growing and I have always worked peacably, but not yet within my society.

Better to stand for something and be wrong or concidered evil then to stand for nothing and be just that.
But we should also realize that if we're hasty, we may die for someting we never really believed in.
* I want to point out the second half of this statement. In many of the interviews I've seen on Hate Groups many say they belong because it made them special and gave them something to believe in. They only heard the first half of this statement. Many that left these Hate Groups realized the second half. One interview in particular that I remember was of a man that was in White Power/Nazi group. It wasn't until the birth of his son he realized what being in this group meant. His son was born retarded. His 'friend' then said if they had been in power they would have had to Euthanize the child because he was an inferior. This man then realized that this group he had pledged his life to, wanted to kill his son.
One should also realize that once you have pledged your life to a cause - it very difficult to back out when you realize you where wrong.*

8401.23

Monday, night of the moon. Death Dealer, Theseus, and man of No-land. With my trusty stead well raised hell to all out and go.
Mothers yelled and screamed and shook the fingers while priming feathers. They set a time and meant us home then! We home before! yet still they raged late! Late! Late!
I consider myself lucky. For if they knew our actions, we'd never see the light of day!
It started with my need for friends and food. I offered to buy dinner.
Theseus couldn't come, but the rest did, Death Dealer on my hood.
Dinner then action as we proweled the inside of the school! Then in the parking lot I chased Death Dealer and No-land in the stallion.
Theseus we found. We four traded off as partners in war. After long wrestels we again went out. Death Dealer and Theseus were chased in the lots.
Then out we roamed in search for a better place. We went to the cemetary. The other three made it sound like terror, but I hand no fears!

I got off the stead and let them drive off. I walked among the resting and found the stone I searched for.
***Robert R Jones
*** ~~- ~~-~ `~~--
**~~ -~- * ~ ~~~-
*** 1 IIII - 1979

Hi Grandpa. 79. Its been awhile. I remember 3 months after I saw you. We didn't talk long, infact I don't remember words. You looked happy.
I haven't seen you since. How are you.
If you know about me I'm sorry, but thats what I am and what I've become. But the fact that you don't tell me your angery now, like you were happy then, it can't be to bad.
I still love you.
There are my friends. I've got to go. I'll talk again with you soon I hope. Keep resting , peacefully.

Home! Home! they yelled. I got them there. And in one piece.
The air, the tacos, the energy and most importantly the friends, gave me a high I'll remember for a long time.

8401.24 supplimental

Last night was one of the best in a long time, but I had very disturbing dream.
I dreamed, graphicly, that some unseen horror stalked the house. It caught me first in the laundry room, but I was the last found. Like Mother and dog afterward I was half eaten but still able to function.
After found in my half eaten state by Loki, I went to bed.
I closed my eyes and started to dream of Letters, numbers, and Logos which were forward then reversed backward. I awoke several times trying to stop this. The background colors were always Green or red, and I could think of those but not the reversables. When I tryed to focus on the background it always faded to black, and I couldn't think of that either.
So I opened my eyes and lay still in the darkness afraid to sleep. I was still half eaten and I didn't want to think of that horror.
I looked for the clock, "How long until I can wake up?" There were three clocks - scattered across my room all glowed through the darkness a different time. All these alien clocks read a different time. But I . could tell my time to awake was soon.
The one next to me started a buzzing countdown but when the time came there was no sound. I couldn't get up.
The one siting on my desk looked like a videogame. The screen glowed an eiree blue. A red light flashed saying the alarm would be soon. The digital numbers fliped over and the screen came on. There played over and over were the fates of my friends at the claws of the beast. I screamed and closed my eyes but the dreams I tried to aviod were only coming back.
I didn't know what to do. If I open my eyes I watched friends die, If I closed my eyes the dreams came back. The third alarm hadn't gone off yet, so I couldn't get up.
My real alarm went off and I woke for real. I wonder if the third alarm would have gone off. And when I woke I wasn't scared, only disturbed - It wasn't a nightmare.
This is real dream. I only understand half of it because half of it average. But why My mother and the dog? Why found by Loki? Why Numbers, Letters, and Logos forward and reversed? Why?

8401.24

Despite dreams of terror and destruction and the ignorance of others to one black fist, I am in the mood of nymphs.
The day I know a man better or as well as myself, is the day I die of shame.
The day I lose myself, especialy now before its even found is the day I fight for my life and not my grey existance. If I win existance, I will lose life.
The day I lose a friend over something that I am is the day I grieve the loss of a supporting deseption. Then search for friends.
The day I lose a friend, is the day I grieve, and hope to find strength in his/her memory.
Privalge! A friend has the Right ...
To ask questions and seek valide answers.
To tell me they think I've some-thing wrong - but no more
To talk and demand that I listen if I ignore.
To expect me to hold up to every letter of my word.
To request an action (wether phyisical or psicological) - no more

DDK _ *Skull insignia*

8401.25

And the army mess hall flung at me mashed patatos, and I laughed.
Loki has gone mad. A hundred years ago they would have straped him down and bled out the evil spirits.
Its warmer and I hear spring is here. As winter passes so does my grimer moods. I hate the days when I sit behind the wheel and all the windows are fogged but for a small spot in front I have to bow down to see out of.
Death Delaer is out now or perhaps done with a new woman. She seems nice, I haven't met her, but she can't be worse than X.
Everythings so logical, I'm no radical, but I can't stand logical!
Elliot, Ibson, Wilder, Freud, Erikson, Plato, Aristotel ... Grand.
I need sleep.
I wish to stop offending you.
***** Goodbye.

Damon
**D'artagnon
¯¯¯/ _Killgrave __*Skull insignia*

8401.26

"Let me kiss that hand master!"
"Oh, no. Let me wipe it first. It smells of mortality."
And then a mans eyes were put out and a blind man thus, watched a war.

I jumped in my stalion an looked forward to stare a lion in the eye. The mane flourished and it said "meow."
Death Dealer calls himself Cat. This was his message -
"It is always the stones and twigs, not the mountains, that man trips over."

Here comes the rain again. I want to talk like lovers do, I want to dive into your ocean blue, Is it really you.
Everytime the song plays I pick a shaft out of my heart.
*Stylized drawing of a roaring Lion. Drawing of a jawless skull with a shadow behind it that seems to give it horns and a beard. Drawing of a Star whose vertical shaft separates the words KING LEAR*

8401.27

What a glove can mean.
A glove alows you to touch, without being touched - but lets you feel nothing.
A glove protects your hand by making it weaker and less tolerant.
A glove is decorative yet restricts the movement and prevents certain acts.
It opens in the back because when its open its covered, when the palm is concealed, you can see in.
A glove covers flesh.
A glove is weak is *in* some areas, reinforced in others. But you can see the seam and tell how its put together.
A glove must be taken off by something other than the hand that wears it.
A glove can be worn by another, but it doesn't fit the same.
A glove always has a partener, somewhere.
A glove can be taken off - for covienance, coutacies *courtesies*, and heat.
A glove can cause irratiation if worn to long.
A glove worn long enough can be forgoten and no longer felt, but its still there - and you notice its absences.
A glove worn strangely is noticed by friends, or those close enough.
In a glove fingers go forward, but the palm stops them and alows exit only from behind (withdrawl)
A glove sperates your fingers, and keeps your hand cold.

8401.28

My evening was spent with Death Dealer and the Thorn. It was quite enjoyable and fillfilling.
We played chess. Thorn and I. I won twice. Later I played Death Dealer twice, I lost, twice.
In the middle we had gone out. I found a lot and I handed the riegn of my stead to Death Dealer, I then got out and ran about as the stallion beared down on my heels.
Then the law came by and we nonchilontly left. They pursued us a time casually, then left. We seem to have gotten off free.
Thorn was quite worried, Death Dealer felt bad. I wasn't worried - we did nothing wrong.
We played chess, then took people home.
Now here I sit telling the story of my evening was spent with Death Delaer and the Thorn. It was quite enjoyable and fullfilling.
We played chess, Thorn and I. I won twice. Later I played Death Dealer twice, I lost, twice.
Thus the story goes.

*I think was the last time we played this game. Not because I didn't want to but because no one else wanted to after such a 'close' call with the police. If you hadn't guessed - what we did was chase a man on foot in a car. The idea was not to run the man over - but to prove how stupid movie chases where because a man on foot that is aware of the car chasing him has all the advantages. Occasionally one would rest by grabbing a hold of the hood for a ride. This is a stupid game - but we did take our precautions - no one drove unless they wanted to, didn't have a recent grudge with the chasie, or any alcohol (or drugs). Besides it was great adrenaline rush.*

8401.29

A storm builds outside as dark ominious clouds gather outside. The Sun shone all the day and it was warm but then the clouds came making cold and dark before its time.
Ironic is it not that the room the beast shows itself most often is already flooded by water of a different storm?
I spent the day with the Thorn, teaching him patients with a pedal. Learning to ride my red stallion is difficult only if you make it so. *I tried to teach him to drive a standard - he did well but got aggravated quickly*
The storm blows outside and shakes my door. I Think of Death Dealer and his recent non-battle. A student of the Indian in Black, who talks to big for what he is confronted Death Dealer. Death Dealer knew any battle would end shortly with no question as to the winner. Death Dealer also had no intention of letting the arogance go by with a "pulled" slap-on-the-wrist. The battle advanced no further than words - Death Dealer won that battle hands down also. The storm blows harder now and Death Dealer new love is named Windy. **** Irony?
The most ironic is that time continues to tick, and even though the clock stoped, I'm still traped in the ticking.

8401.3Ø

"Boom" said the bomb, as another whiseled his way lazily down to earth.
"Can't you say anything else you wretched bomb!?"
"Doom" replied the bomb.
I battle through a war zone and the sounds keep comeing.
"Wheeeeeeee - Doom!"
Horror, fear, terror, ... lonelyness.
I run into a room of people and I cry for security. They all move away. I turn expecting to see a dark shardow with horns. I find none.
No one knows! Why don't they come near? They shun me and I run outside.
"Ba-Damn!" shouts the bomb. I'm back. Back in the war zone. I'm a vegitarian wolf in a fold of sheep, and I'm hungry.
"Strike back!" I think. "Show them who's boss."
I package together dynamite. I find a wick and I light it. Its a short fuse, but it'll burn forever.
There's a hand on my sholder, I turn and see my friends
"Where are you going?" they ask. Death Dealer steps forward. "Easy for you to die dramaticly, not so easy for those that must live with the extreme option. Where are you going?"
I look down at the ended fuse. "Nowhere" Thus it ends, not . with a bang, but a whimper.

8401.31.

Black is a mysterious color, a secretive color.
A Color of power and awe.
A color of darkness and evil to some.
Black is a void - full of all color, drawing in more and more, yet still empty.
Black is hot and dirty.
Black is my faviorite color.
-------------------------------------------
The candle cuts the darkness with its delicete light. That small star in the darkness gives light and heat to the dark cold.

Thus I speak in Epimethean phrase.

8402.01

I bought the legs of black then hid mine eyes in shame as Death Dealer tried on the same.
Then I came home with those legs and then shamed myself with a slap.
I fell like a Judas, and it isn't pleasant. Furies strike at my heart and there pink eyes and moist cheeks show there white tears.
Somewhere a wheel turns, oiled with blood and moaning with the cries of dead men.
That wheel is behind and infront of me, I can't run, or stop.

8402.02

Sweetpea drove me to anger. The forked tounge of Theseus knew better but persisted anyway.
Death Dealer, Theseus and I drove along. "The mound" they spattered, I complied.
As I parked I got out. "Stay here, do what you want, I'll be back."
"Where are you going?" they asked. There was the simple reply.
I went to my thinking point. As I drew near the light it got darker. All the shadows came to me, then stemed from me. It was dark, I was blind and heading to the light. {
I stood there and looked up.
"Oh, God I'm sorry. I feel like Judas and worse. I'm sorry." Then i turned and left back to the car. Hence we left the mound.

Stange is it not that the base of all Western liturature is a Blind poet. I too am blind, maybe one day I'll be a poet.
----------------------------------------------------
Leather - because its strong, becuse its warm, because it feels cold. The flesh of a cow, the cow a mother godess. It wraped around me, and the hand.
the Italian had it but gave it away for lost. He put on the glove . made a fist, opened it up again.
"What do you feel?" I asked
"It's strange. I feel Love." he said.
"What?" I asked to reafirm.
"Oh nothing. Here is your glove."
You had a major clue Andrea. Love.

8402.03

And my devious mind ticked away without conscious. I went back, alone, with the beast following like a shadow. I viewed, I selected, I bought.
I shouldn't have been able too, but they didn't question thier ignorance. I got away. I snuk out.
I went to the mound. I parked. I unwraped this unsavory gift and flung out the wrapping.
After viewing I went home. Gears turning in my head "How to get it in unnoticed." I knew all of them would work and I had no guilt of the deception. I was relaxed and smiling.
My steed turns the corner, horror fills my heart and the car stops dead in its tracks. One lone chariot, Apollos yellow horizon sat parked at my home. Light shone out and shattered the dark, the Beast quiverd and ran. Death Dealer, hater of Beasts, was there and now I was scared.
Panic struck me, "hide it! hide . it!" were my only thoughts. And hide it I did. Tripel covered, locked in twice, deffensible and hiden.
i pulled in, put on a facade and went in. death Dealer was cherry and invited me to pizza at his home. Either that or meat-cake here. I went along, hoping it wasn't canadian bacon.
We took his chariot, thank god. i would have sewat bullets knowinghe sat over the evidence fo my very doom should he ever know.
I back now. In many ways. He's none the wiser, and I still have my package.

Never touch me Death Dealer. Stay back Indian in black. Keep your distance Theseus. I'm to dirty for tackyon contact. So rotate and peditate in increasing distance, or the defacation may factually contact the rotary osilator. Then I simply cease all bodily functions, and hope for the best.

*Just for clarity - I'm to dirty for tactile contact. So rotate and pedatite in increasing distance, or the defecation may factually contact the rotary oscillator. Then I simply cease all bodily functions, and hope for the best. If you look it all up it will make sence.*

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