8402.2Ø

Today I concluded I would not alow myself to burn in search of heat. Thus with other resolutions just settled I begin anew tomorrow.
Tomorrow is a day of hope and this is what I hope to acomplish.
No longer will I wear a glove of black on my left hand. This for two reasons. First it is part of a deal struck between my mother and I. Second because I wish to send the meditating boy back into his sleep. He came out three years early. I send him back to make up time. Though the glove is not worn, the meaning may still be there. It was meant to portray a barrier to a feeling - it began to portray the feeling.
A ring of gold will soon be bought, for the absence of a glove also means the presents of a ring. Gold because its refined and rich, Gold because its not pure like silver.
My hair will also be cut so that it can also be combed strait. My hair will become versitle.
Boots will again be died black. The heels were worn to another color.
And I plan to role a lawful evil assassin named David Damnation in Death Dealers game Lazer.
Thats a new day and a new start.

8402.21

Death Dealer and his mother grow very hostile. Death Dealers mother is volently opposed to Indian in Black, no reason given. She is an objective Agressive, her weapons are guilt, presure, and manipulation. He is an Agressive, his weapons are his raised voice, and his first. There is a power struggle going on and it concerns me.
His mother is cheery, a bundel of joy. Death Dealer seeths with anger. He tenses his muscels, grits his teeth, writes violently, speaks sarcasticly and fills a room with agitation.

Once again it does not envolve me, but I am concerned. Again I must stand back and simply watch them take action. I will be there for conversation and any help possible.
There was an outsider before, I knew she was the problem. Now Its only two people, no outsiders.

Damn the conflicts of old & new.
Damn book covers, and stubborness.

Just Damn.

8402.22

He was born beloved. Like all babies he was helpless and innocent, perhaps more so.
He was shoved into a bubble, clear, sterile, sanitized, clean, small. This bubble was a wall, thin and clear, but a wall. He was denied human touch, simple skin contact was out.
He was shelterd from life and reality. Trapped in a bubble of his peers construction.
Then he broke free when he couldn't breath, an there was a funny feeling in his bones. But he broke free.
He experienced life outside the bubble, he lived. He lived yes, but he couldn't handel it all at once. His heart ... broke.

Symbolicly this is great. This should happen to all sheltered in a bubble. If it can be stopped don't let the heart break, percivere.
Realisticly its tragic. He was only ten, and even removed from the bubble he was sheltered. Perhaps the heart broke because he choked.
Rest in Peace David. If there is life after death, may you have a better deal there.

*The Boy in the Bubble was popular news at the time. He was a child born with out an immune system. To keep him alive they put him in a sterile 'bubble' to keep him from coming into contact with even the smallest germ. I believe they made a TV movie about it also ... staring John Travolta if I remember right.*

8402.23

The next generation of me is off to good start.
Haha! I am so happy for myself. The light complemented me for my improvments. Then I went to Theseus and Death Dealer and begged for what I had begged for before. Today they gave in and I proved again to be a good student.
I have learned to turn like a wheel, and almost flip! I come close to a hand stand, if only I could land without jolting my spine.
I am proud! I am learning the things I have always wanted to know. Now I have teachers.
We swung swords afterwards. I was so out of practice. But I learned again quickly.
I swing a mean sword.

I am Me! I am impressed with Me! And I will learn more! I have too.

Yehah! ***___
*****(______/__
********___/___
**********/
*The beginning of my Gymnastics training. This is what I had been begging for. Marc, Brain and Chris (The Indian in Black) where all on the school gymnastics team. I didn't want to compete, but I did want to learn. They finally stopped asking me to join the team and just started to teach me in the back yard. I seemed to take to it easily - It made me feel great!*

8402.25

I skiped yesterday for late was I up. The day was great as Indian in black came and taught me more.
A call of the past came to me today. He is an artist of some stature, an actor of better. He wishes to play a game of heroes and villians. I'll play, a hero even, but probibly this once for the porcedures are too complicated.
Sleep must eye. Goodnight.

8402.27

This is a habit that will not continue. Yesterday I played a game of heros and I lost. Adiquite.
The light assigned and I read feverantly. This is no picture and no palate can capture Dedalus as well as this mans words.
Thing is Daedalus isn't just one man, he's everyone. A piece of me, a piece of him and a piece of everyone else.
Death Dealer thought I was jokeing but it was no lie. I read of Dedalus'es battle with religion and I began to think of myself and then Death Dealer. I had just resloved that I was going to buy a copy of this book and gift it to Death Dealer to read. Then he walkes in my door.
I hadn't seen him so long and he brought me a gift of . music. I listen to it now. I must have seemed cold and cruel because I began to read again soon as he came in. But I had to. Assignment, pressure, envolvement, curiousity.
He came to the door and I wanted to reach out with open arms and hug this welcome sight so long missing. But I struck that thought and would have slaped the beast but it wasn't his thought. I knew either way Death Dealer would not like the action so restrain was exsersized.
Damn School, Sheduals, and the chains of time that keep me and my friends apart. Have them in a class or loss them.
My heart has a lot of scars, most from the loss of friends. Taylor, Davis, Aliens, Hyde, Jykel, Steve, Eldon, Angel, and in ways the Calm Struggling Alien and the Idiot.
Don't let me add Death Dealer and Theseus to the list.
Thank you Death Dealer. This music and your appearance were the high points of my day and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
These lyrics hurt beautifully.

8402.28 supplimental

* The music screams
* Live and lie
* Live a lie
* Live and die
Why Death Dealer, why this?
* Stroke me, Stroke me
I can think of these things.
* You've got me running baby ...
* Your my kind of lover ...
* I've got emotions baby ...
* I can't doubt you to long ...
* My kind of lover ...
* I can't ask for more ...
* I wan't to make you feel the way I do -
Lie! Lie! Lie! Impure thoughts.
These lyrics pain me!
* Your no Stranger you know what I like ....
Ow! Strangers not Strangers.
* Two days gone ...
* Danger Song ...
* I saw a freind just the other day ...
* Good days gone ...
* New days gone ...
* True days gone ...
Then deafening silence. Deafening.
Death Dealer couldn't have known about these hurts. The Squire certainly couldn't. Is it just me then that makes them hurt.
Why only five songs.
Oh, Death Dealer you make me think to much. Thankyou.

* The Squire would be Billy Squire, author and singer of the songs.*

8402.28

So much to write about. Subject, tone Audience.
There is a place I want to go but I fear it. I fear it for my sake and the sake of friends. One miscalculation, one wrong action, one misled thought and my *life* could end.
Senior Men's. A bash to rivil the orge's of Dionosus and Bachus. My friends will be there. My lust's will be there. I want to be there. I can be there. I will be there.
But my thoughts again wander to finding someone in the dark who cannot see or act to the contrary. I do not like this thinking Darkness seeps from the boys eyes and I will burn if I get that close. I will not burn.
I decided long ago on a walk that I would not burn. I will be there if only as an excersize of controll. Yet buy denying feelings they build and explode little artist. Explode.

Damn why must everything seem a paradox!

Subject - blatant
Tone - Guess
Audience - I don't know. I thought it was me.

* Senior Men's was an end of the year, graduation bash. A three day camping excursion with free beer. I was afraid to go, but I did - and had the time of my life. *

8402.29

This shouldn't be here.

"I'm not afraid to be alone" Said Stephen Dedalus.
An aritst must take that chance, The risk of being alone.
I am not afraid to stand alone, I do it often. But I am afraid of being alone.
If not for Death Dealer, and the Indian in Black I don't know where I would be.
But there is still my chance of lossing them. Even now Death Dealer floats away. There's still the shadow of possiblity ... leaving. *His parents where planning to move - very far away.* The Indian will leave, no doubt. He goes to the mass which wears camophage to blend even further in.
They always say "I'll be in touch." But you feel them again, espeacily if you never felt them before.
I hate islands. There separate, apart and surrounded by water. But often you can only feel peace on an island.

8403.01

What day is it? I am spent from disclosing myself for the teacher of life, and thinking of the guiding light.
Where are you Death Dealer? I can't find you, and I can't find my way out to find you.

8403.02

"Is Death Dealer there?"
"No and he won't be for awhile."
"Well then have him call me some-time should he get bored."
"His weekend is pretty full."
"That's okay." I said, but I lied. I lied as my out-of-controll boat floated further away.

I walked about in times of old thieving from those in the streets. My touch was slight, but prophetable. The people weren't even aware of being robed.
I came close to a fire but steered clear. Backing away from that one I near jump into another.
"Six-pence" he said. "Six-pence for the job." I agreed without knowing.
Bam, Bang, Doom! The stakes were driven in and the blood was on my hands. How? How could Death Dealer smile on that cross? He doesn't even know he's there!
"My money! I need that to wash my hands."
"Sure." he said "Here your three-pence. But realize, Judas, England doesn't exist yet. You can't prophet for another thousand years or more."
There I knelt with blood on my hands and useless money in my pockets.
"What's wrong?" ask's a smiling D.D.
"What's wrong?"

8403.03

Black-Stone again went out ot fight crime. Again he did poorly but refused to give-up and die.
I lay naked on a slab suspended by chains. The slab drops and I hold the chains. The chains are hot. I swing on them. I climb them, I let go of them.
I fall, I land in pure alcohol, but I don't drink it, breath it, or drown in it. I swim, I feel, I find a way out. I succeed in fulling my lungs again with air..

My partner broke out of his bubble, lost his air and drown in the alcohol. He gave up hope. He became alive again for he lived illusions, but he again became hope-lost and died, again, and again, and again.

Ch'Tax hunts me. He has the pheonix force. He wants to kill me.
I ran, I fought, I lost.
Ch'Tax hunted my frineds then. They have only the will to survive. He wants them to suffer.
They ran, they suffered, I felt. I hunt Ch'Tax. I want retribution.
He faces me, He fights me, He loses.
**** My freinds win.
I Rest In dearest Peace.
and so do they, in the land of the living.

*Black-Stone was a role-playing hero (in the Champions game I think). He was an escape-artist detective (modeled a bit after Batman) - no 'super-human' powers. He however ran in a campaign with 'Supermen'. He would charge into battle with the rest and end up unconscious in the first round usually. He often woke in time to save someone else though. He was also often taken hostage. But would escape.
I often complained to the GM (Game Master) that he was not taking advantage of my characters abilities - That he was instead aiming the game for battles of pure physical power. The GM agreed.
I don't any more. I did use my characters abilities. I fought with what I had and often showed greater bravery in battle then the 'gods' (as we called them because of all the powers they had). I learned more about being a hero in those games then in any of the others. Welcome to the 'real' world of role-playing.*

8403.04

"Here Kitty-Kitty! No, to young. My Cat is much older. Have you seen my Cat? Where is my Cat?
"It's dark out and there's a storm coming my way. I'm afraid I'm going to lose him.
"Cat! Loki have you seen my Cat?"
"Doc is right there. Call and he'll come to."
"I have no need of a Doctor yet; and I don't mean my cat, I mean my Cat. Have you seem him Indian in Black?"
"I am one with the wild and see no Cat."
"He roames the concret jungel, not your wild."
"I feel no storm either."
"Oh, It's coming, and I have to find my Cat. God why is it so so dark? Cat! Cat! Where are you!?
"Theseus, have you seen my Cat? .... Theseus!"
"Hmm ... Oh, yes I see him often."
"Where is he? ... Theseus ... where are you? Theseus! oh, god. Death Dealer! Death Dealer where are you? Where's my cat?
"God? =ring= .... =ring= come on answer =ring= ... -ring= God! =ring= .... =ring= .... =rin-click!=
Damn he still isn't back!"
"Cat! Please answer me. Hello? Cat?"
"Meow?!"
"Cat! oh, I'm so glad to _/slas^h!/ Ow!"

* The line "I don't mean my cat, I mean my Cat." Leads me to believe I wasn't looking for Doctor Who, my cat, but Death Dealer, my friend (who, at the time, often called himself Cat). The fact that I ask Death Dealer where my Cat is (and receive no answer), in addition to the others that I also ask, leads me to believe this is a metaphor for an old friendship. I was looking for a feeling I felt I had lost (or was in danger of losing) not specifically a person. *

8403.05 supplemental *Written on a lose piece of paper in placed in Journal*

I had a dream.
Freudian slapstick ran the themes. It was funny it was silly, and it makes me think. Alice in Wonderland is what it reminded me of.
I remember less and less of it. There was a large, hairy, screaming Italian step-father. More under-standing then the Dominator but much more dominationg. He read a newspaper in the hospital with my mother sitting next to him in a rocking-chair knitting. One more thing I remember - I saw him naked once, a lot of hair, no dick.
Snow-White ran around a table in the park. The table was covered with pies and she ran from nothing. I asked her why she was running. Never stoping she answered her husband was director of this dream and she was being punished for having read her lines wrong.
Donald Duck suddenly appeared out from under the table and everyone except the cheshire cat was terrified as Donald quacked "Wrong! Wrong! Repent!" and threw the cream pies at us. He was her husband and that terrified me.
The cheshire cat. I think that is two people in one illusion. More one than the other.

The redundant artist - last name Chesier. All but her memory disappeared, a reliefe - no fear.
Death Dealer - A Cat and more. All but his tail and smile disappering from my sight. He has no fear either because he doesn't know what's going on, or simpliy because he is who I think he is.
The only other thing I remember is a lot of running. Everywhere I went I ran. I ran to the Italian, I ran out of the hospital room, I ran to Show white. I ran from Donald Duck, and where ever I ran I saw the Chiesier Cats tale.
Everything was viewed in a comicly distored way. Like cartoons.
I know what some of this means by my standers, the rest I put down because I felt it important. I remembered it.

8403.06

Yesterday was grand. Ending in the learning of skill by my friends Death Dealer and Theseus.
Today was Grand. I happy and had fun. The Teacher of life and the Patient traveler had fun and spread that joy about.
Tomorrow I speculate upon well. "Difference makes us great - Join Ethnic day". The Indian participates as do I the Gypsy. I look forward to fun.
In the class of life, a point was brought to. When the nails were driven into Christ do you think all he thought was "ouch!"
They say no, he thought of the price he pays for being himself. He understood the dirt in there eyes and the duty they carried forth.
But what did Judas think? I bet he thought "ouch!"
I Gypsy isn't a gypsy until he steals - I have stolen. Balor and David Damnation taught me, or portray this.
Gypsys, it is said, are forgiven for there petty thiefts since a Gypsy stole the fourth nail of the crusifiction.
I never really stole physically, do you think my christ can forgive me. Not at least until he knows, and I intend to hold that off as long as I can.

8403.07

The day was grand. I learned many things of many people.
The Indian - Brown-Wolf, and I later had a long conversation and we shared many things.
We spoke of ancestors, dreams, and present realities and the illusions there off.
In talking with him I realizied that I really miss my grandfather. He stoped leaving tracks for me to follow long ago and I wandered off on my own, and now I realize I miss those tracks.
I wish I could talk to you again.
Thank you Brown-Wolf, for giving me this knowledge by sharing your own.

8403.08

I lost the Teacher of Life in the writings I sent him in my sharing. The Light looked down upon writings and said she enjoyed them.
I learn of Death Dealer, in pecuilar and backward ways. He says he "hates" (as quoted to me) Mythology and the teachings of life. The second doesn't surprise me at all. He and the teacher of life don't get along to well and mainly because he talks of subjects that Death Dealer dislikes, finds repulsive, or chooses to ignore.

I told him this but he chose to try it anyway. I comend him for that but if he dislikes it, he should get out.
Mythology was however a surprise. "Goes against his religious back ground" (as quoted to me). This is a study of what others believed, not a gosepel preaching. Find out what others believed (past tense there) and aply it to your own faith and make it stronger.
Death Dealer why does it always seem to me that you a sleeping, blind, stone? Why do I like a sleeping blind, stone?
Perhaps this is an improper illusion. sleeping, blind, stones don't have beautiful thoughts, visions, and motions. You have these traits and I wouldn't dare change a thing (I hope - I keep saying open up and try it - Is that a wish of change?).
I simply don't understnd. I wish I could.
Ideas just hit me. Some day I'll try to write them - Omni - potence therory -- God is the Unknown to me --- Perhaps God did something to me long ago, and now I harbor a grudge. But I can't recall what he did.

*He made me an outsider and had others preach hate to me. Who wouldn't be disillusioned by this?*

8403.09

The Teacher of Life blinded us all and showed us a darkness. Then tried to teach us to use our other sences to aviod total darkness.
Brown-Wolf guessed at the meaning of my glove as I wrote on an invisible man. This was a man who was visible but unseen by certain kinds of people. He was seen as an object, not a person. He was judged by what people saw around him because they refused to see inside of him. They judged by what they saw and they saw only the extremly superfical. This is a kind of darkness - but not like mine. Keep guessing Brown-wolf.
I looked for Death Dealer. I looked in the morning. I missed him. I looked between classes, I couldn't see him. I looked after school, he wasn't home.
I'm ... scared. I'm afraid I'm losing someone important to me. Then I think of all the times a wish comes around on my necklace - I wish for Death Dealer's and Theseus happiness.
Is this part of that wish?

* A wish on my necklace - I don't know if this is still popular or not - But it was a common 'superstition' that when the clasp of your necklace came around to the pendant you should grab it, make a wish, and put the clasp on the back of the neck again.*

8403.1Ø

The race is on and I've already lost. Self fullfilling prophecy.
"Yah! Yah! Giddy-up! Yah!" Faster and faster my stead goes, but before I even reach the finish the prizes are galloping of on there maveric, lost for the days to come.
Wallowing in my lost I go to a house of darkness and look at the acienct scrolls of sin. All I think is that I bet they were off to the church.
Damn the house of crosses forgiveing me the images of the crusification. For making me an outcast and a Judas, and my friends the betrayed Christ.
Damn me for thinking such a thought. The house of crosses is guidance to millions ... just not me.
$2Ø. It must be delivered, soon, to the house of Crosses. 1Ø twice. For twice have I been with ten fingers to my hands. five showing a curse. Twice he (God) did not strike me dead for being "lower-than-pig-slop."
My stomach is sick for what I have done and I wish to burn the scrolls before they burn me.
************* DDK was here. and gone.

* "lower-than-pig-slop." An actual quote about God's opinion of gays from Death Dealer and Theseus brought to the discussion from their bible classes. *
This entry originally © 1996 October (editoral comment added June 1998)

8403.11 supplimental

I slept and had a dream. One I couldnot rationalize because it was rational.
The Sun woke me by prying open my eyes. I wanted to dream, I tried to keep them closed so I could see the end. Apt that it is Sunday.
The dream was strange. I and a bunch of clutzes planned to run away. Loki I believe was one of them, the only other I remember was a man who said he was comicbook artist.
We hid on the side of the house. We thought it clever that we were running from home yet we hid right next to it. It was dumb.
The police came looking for us. I watched the car closely. The artist thought It was gone and moved. I told him it still there and he moved back quickly. The police saw us.
Two Policemen and a dog. I recognized the one with the dog. Flashback - the class of life last year. There was a man small of statue, large in faith of God. His name RD. The Christain had the dog and he called the dog by his own name, RD.
They came at us and I thought to buy time, "RD! Don't bark!"
The others ran to the fence . behind us and began to climb it. I shot forward toward the Police. The police went after my three friends and caught them as they rode the fence. The dog growled and followed me.
This doG was large and looked creul so I ran harder. I leaped over a fence hoping to slow this doG. He still came. I leaped fence after fence knowing not were I was going. The doG followed me.
Fianally I collapsed and fell asleep. The doG sat next to me chewing a bone, and chewing his paws.
When I awoke I went home. I avoided the police and left the doG. At home there was Papa Howard, Mama Marian, Sister Jonne, her boyfriend Chachi, Our tenant Big Al and new girlfriend Roserita. *Characters from the TV show 'Happy Days'. I guess I was Ritchie.*
Sis took my reservation and sent me to my room, then lied to the police on the phone about my being there. Mom and Pop didn't care they were watching TV. Big Al & Roserita were getting romantic.
I slept, changed clothes, bid by family goodbye, told Sis I'd be home late, and left. The doG sat on the porch asleep and I . put on my sneakers. Then I set off running.
I decided as I turned the corner that I would would go to the Cats. As I jogged along I wondered why the Cat's. He liked doGs, he even has a small grey poodle that is blind, close to deaf and walks in circles because her heads crooked. * Not a fictional dog. It was his mothers dog. All those features where present in the dog.*
I jogged down twilight *The name of the street near my house, though I'm sure the name was also symbolic.* , no one infront of me, but a traffic jam behind me. When I look forward again its just in time to avoid hitting a parked truck. I look back again and see a police man.
He keeps coming toward me. Be cool I thought. Be cool. He kept coming.

The Sun awoke me. When I came back after washing to write this it was gone. It's back now, but its still cold outside. I'ts still sunday.
Death Dealer / Cat is in the house of crosses, with Theseus, pobibly all day.
I'll be playing Champions, I'm a weak hero. My teammates want me rewriten. I don't think I'll alow it. *My team mates where also annoyed that Blackstone was whipped on a regular basis. They felt they had to save me more then the civilians. The GM did attempt to rewrite my character. I wouldn't concede on certain things (like superpowers) so it didn't work.*
One more thing. A few days ago I tied my head again to be a gypsy. Now I'm quite attracted to a hat. I don't want to digress.

© June 1998 (© implies date of entry but reflects web publication)