Book 3 December 13 1983 to July 5 1984
| 8404.04 | 8404.05 | 8404.06 | 8404.07 | 8404.08 |
| 8404.09 | 8404.09x | 8404.10 | 8404.11 | 8404.12 |
| 8404.13 | 8404.14 | 8404.15 | 8404.16 | 8404.17 |
| Back | 8404.18 | Journal Gateway | 8404.19 | Forward |
Brown-wolf marked another year of experience down. It felt good to know that that experience is
equal to his wisdom. This was demonstrated as the warrior rode down the streets and stoped a war
instead of participate.
Brown-wolf teaches me many things in our differences. I damn the tick-tocks whereas he forgets
them, but knows them.
Is it this quality that doesn't alow me to turn enough to do a front, or twist back for a flip-flop, or
even the fact my hole won't heal the way it should?
He's done all this, and more, more times than I have.
Maybe that's it, he's done more, more times.
The first 14 years of my life were a waste. I rode in the desert with no name meeting only a Poor
Rich-man, and a humble Taylor.
But then the sun set and I was in the dark. The dark became cold and I started to lose my sight.
Then Death Dealer on his battle Cat, and Theseus on his chariot brought some light. Then came the
Teacher of Life, Brown-wolf, and the Guilding Light.
Its still dark out but I'm alive, I'm doing - I am becoming. In the darkness flowers grew. Not a
flower studed waste-land. *** Thank you ... whoever.
Aaaahhhhhh! haaa! * no.
My tears fall for you. For you are the condemed, you are the Grown-ups.
Galifrey. It exists, wake up from dead sleep and see it ... . Man.
Sir your fist is so large and so powerful it robs us children of our precious view. You think you are
so correct you corrupt. Why don't you open that fist and see! See man as he should be! ... the
child.
Galifrey : = Gayla - meaning happy, free : = meaning freedom.
Galifrey = the freedom to be happy.
Galifreians have two harts - one in there breast, one in our chest of dreams.
This is my prison, I'm here because I broke time laws. I'm a child in a mans bodys, a childs dreams
in the mind of man - difined : Imagination.
Prision - I can't escape you or my other torments. My anomally will always be punished.
2ØØØ - the year I can leave or stay of my own will. I'll either be the same and dead, the same and
alive, Grown-up and dead or Grown-up and existing. (meager word isn't grown-up).
I'm from Galifrey. I always will have been from there - the land of fantastic dreams. I'm waiting for
you to wake up from the dead.
"Heh -heh- heh" cried Mordred, "There's a rumor that the table acutally isn't round, but a uh ...
triangel."
Three people at the head - separate heads - each thinking the other two are at the bottom.
Arthur, my king, I feel for you - betrayed by love and the ideas and ideals you persued.
-I can feel it in the air tonight Oh-yeah. I been waiting for this moment all my life, hold-on, I seen
your face before my friend but I don't know if you know who I am.
I know where you've been and its all a pack of lies; hold-on.
I can feel it coing in the air tonight, hold-on, hold-on-
-----New day------------------------------------------------
I don't know if I care any-more.
* Death Dealer
* Theseus
* Brown-wolf
* Guilding Light
* Teacher of Art
* Teacher of Life
* Patient traveler
* Young militant
and all Friends I have yet to meet.
I do care. I have to. One day Galifrey will explode.
Break-Dance!!!
Man contorts himself in the strangest of ways and moves in a choatic order.
Smile, you don't have to be a star to be in my show. Look at the director - staring at his nails. He
cares more for those than anything else.
"But I see gears turning in his head."
He's trying to think of something else to fuck-up.
There's a white spot on my hand, and that's wrong, its opposite.
Put that away Dominator, I'm not going to take your shit and your not going to fuck-around with me.
What's wrong? I'm calm, not angry or moved yet I'm useing some strong four letter words.
My spot dissappeared.
The symbols I put down read like a comic book of Hero's. That's good. Lots of action, conflict, everyday problems, friends and villians. The writer's good, the editor doesn't care, the art is moving .. .. but its still a Comic Book --- the Editors idea I'm sure.
Just when the past begins to haunt me, my present leaps out and terrifies me with Death.
"No mother! Not that drawer!" But it was opened anyway and the memories flooded forth. Birth,
one month, six months, one year, two years, four years, eight years, all the ones between, some
after.
Momma, Momma, Yellow rose, Young militant, Loki, Grandma, Momma, Loki, Loki, Dominator,
Great Grandma, Grandma, Momma, Loki, ... Grandpa. I miss you Grandpa.
This was good. Pictures can't hurt any one, they jar only (usually) superficial memories. But I try to
repossess my past. I take the pictures of me. I don't like others to see. But the opening of one
drawer means the opening of another.
No... Not that one. ... Not ... that ... one. Pictures can't hurt you, but portraits can. They are
memories. When I put the superficial away I found the deep ones I'd forgot.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
" * Who needs Liquor? I got Love, Love and life is a better high. * "
" * Dreamer, I'm nothing but a dreamer. But when the dreams stop ... What am I then? * "
".. * ............./ Stemming * * *this little diagram is difficult to portray here*
* Thoughts -...from....-... Stemming - .Thoughts
....... * .........\ thoughts <...from.. ....../ .stemming
........... * .............. ..........thoughts < ...from
............... * .........................................thoughts * "
" * Silence, louder than any noise
* * Noises, overpowering silence
* * Music, louder than any silence
* * Silence, a music all its own. * * "
" * Light, stronger then any darkness
* * Darkness overpowering light
* * Color better than any light
* * Light a color in essences.
* * To be ignored, to be pushed aside,
* * is a pain beyond believe.
* * Look, but don't touch,
* * The one you love, for you can't have. * "
Poems or thoughts I had before. Way before. Still kind of correct. A child can be you know. The
Drawer wasn't empty though.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 8208.20
" A man walked through a desert panting heavily under the hot, arid sun. He wore a bandanna
around his head and draped down over the left side of his face; protecting the long-a-go left scars
of earlier pains. His black body suit pulled the suns rays . down upon his body. The strangest part
though was the fact he had a broken ///// and chipped sword sticking through his right shoulder.
He walked on ignoring the heat and the pain of his wounds. He just walked. * "
Because he had to think of the pain to come, not what he had.
" I slept one night, yet I wasn't asleep. I was walking through white, sterile, and deserted halls. My every footstep echoes. Then down the hall I caught a glimpse of someone, I ran to see ... someone. I turned the corner and meet myself, an image in a mirror, a false image. I turned away and the image came crashing down around me. The shards cut deep and I bleed as two hands from the image behind me reach out to grasp a hold. The plastic wrapped hands wrapped around my neck and threw me down on to a cold slab in pitch black room. I looked up and the green covered surgeon removed his hands from my neck and said "Devil Deeds done in Darkness." He pulled down the surgical mask and I stared into my own face, my reflection in his eyes. He ... I turned . to a table and picked up a scalpel. I ...He looked down on me ... him and smiled as the reflection turned into skulls. He ... I lifted the scalpel high into the air and it turned into a silver dagger. Then he ... I propelled the dagger ... scalpel down into my ... his shoulder. I screamed, he bled. I awoke in a hospital bed. * * "
Then under 8208.27 I wrote,
" The machine stopped, all outside help stopped. I fought the darkness to get to the light, with no help. No help, alone to battle what ever came my way, alone. * * "
But what is a War without innocent bystanders?
Deeper still went the drawer drawing me further and further in, letting the past father and farther out.
8112.30
" I'm losing myself. I can't figure out who I am. Who Am I?! I need help but I'm afraid to ask or
act. I'm not a hero, a spy, a dashing person, or Doctor Who; I'm me, but whose that? Who am I?
I'm in for another fight with the beast in black and reality. Change went back on his deal. He said
slow gradual change, this is to fast.
I've been in the same place all my . life, and now mom says we night move to Kansas City. That's
A Big Change! Nothing slow or Gradual About It! You're not fair, not fair at all. No fun being
grown-up if you can't be childish, sometime. Let me be a Child, I like it, just leave me alone, please.
* "
But they never did, never. Then I found..........................................
..................Record . . . . . . . . . . . |
|...................................................|
It started on 7801.08 with a very early, primal picture of bigfoot. On the next page an equally bad
picture of a strong man. Following page - Dear: Reader - scribbled out. After that I said I would tell
all my secrets here - first I hated Scouts.
" scouts have nothing for me
I'm more for comics, TV,
superfreinds, space age, and
most of all I'm for the
most important thing of
all the amaganition! it
just doesn't have my fun! * * "
Imagination is what I stood for then. Now?
The next page described me, my likes, my love and my first hate. Sports
" * I hate sports, the reason I
* Do is because I Don't like
* comptision, we were all
* created equal (=). * * * * "
Next my brother was driving me insane and was declared my second hate. Same on the next page.
It goes on sporadically from 78 to 8103.15 (an entry I will soon discuss). I covered my entry into
Middle School, my four new imaginary friends, a theory on existence, the death of my first cat, my
perminate and the discovery of the beast (then, now a Beast).
My second-to-the-last entry 8103.15 Dealt with the emperor who made me King. One very painful
entry.
Then undated and scribbled on close to the last page after a large gap of white and green paper
was.
" * I different. I have 4 sides in group there's si-fi, Monster, adventure, Super friend sides. divide theos (Those) up and I have a hundred sides.
* * I'm a 12 year old child! * * "
There I sat with all this out around me along with a map of stars, the Torso of a Bronc . and a
Number of photos. Then came the knock at the door.
Death Dealer was here, in a suit. A terrifying present.
Quickly I shoved my past back into drawer and lost all thoughts.
Poems, entries, Records, Pictures; Me in plaid, me in red and black, me with Loki and my first cat,
me and a bum dummy on my 10th birthday, me and Loki, again, a blurred picture of me leaving for
camp (my third Hate), me in blue with presents, me with my third cat, me very young in green with a
white hard hat, me very young in black and white looking crazed, me with Loki on his seventh
birthday, me in brown holding a stiff rope, me in green playing Superman, me-young
militant-Loki-Yellow rose, again me and Loki with my first cat, Me old in black, Then me and
Grandpa, Grandpa doing magic, Grandpa doing magic when I was older, Grandpa watching me,
Grandpa and Grandma ... smiling, then Grandpa... alone and frowning - twice.
I closed the drawer and went to Death Dealer. Later we sat ... in silence ...
"Say something it's to quite." I asked. He chuckled and said,
"I was thinking."
"I was too, but not of what I want to think." I replied thinking of past ...
"Think of something else."
"I can't." and present.
"Think about thinking." he said with a laugh as the cat scratched me.
"Thanks." I replied.
"Thanks" He replied later as I dropped him at home so he could prepare to go to the house of
crosses. He has that. I have nothing.
The past crept out and the present attacked ... I almost had no future. Funny it should rain all day today and the toilet overflow while I wrote.
Goodevening.
DDK *skull insignia*
Original © (for this entry)1996 October
Wwwhhhhaaaaaatttt!!!!!
What? What! What. What?! What!?
Oh, no, no .... Why?
I like it loud because there's no content. I've become superfical. I can't tell you what I think.
I have mixed emotions on Falkner.
Who are you, who? who? ... Who? who?
8404.09 extra
They held the spirit of my Grandfather hostage.
"What do I do?!" I cried out.
= Give us the ring. < they replied.
~ Run! ~ cries Grandfather in anquish.
I run. But as I ran I set traps and fought my enemy.
Grandpa frowned and said
~ Well, you fought and stood for what was yours, but you ran. The test was to see if you would
listen to someone elses bad advise. You did. ~
I failed him again.
I was going to write this in second person, like a child speaks. I found that difficult. 2 reasons.
first, I am too hooked on first person to convert easily.
Second, I couldn't figure out my second person name. I'm not Damon (not yet), not Bret, Beast,
Black, Bøyg, Fire, Fury, Friend or Judas.
Grandpa, Johnathan, what do you do when your lost on main street?
Figures .... no answer. They know I have to find it ... can I say, myself?
Presently I can be described in a short line - here it is ...
Apathy - I feel nothing.
The film was of a happy man, he had normal problems.
He divorsed 3 of his wifes - the forth one divorced him. He drank heavily and his kids hated him.
He hates his job and pays most of it to allimony. Did I mention he drink heavily?
Like I said, the film of a happy man.
The Editing room is a choatic mess. I like to talk to the Janitor in the basement.
My feet bleed. Loki has steped off the stage but hasn't removed his make-up.
I don't know who was first, but now Its my turn.
There was Rodrick and Madaline Usher. They were split and one tried to kill the other. There
house fell - split.
There was Dr Jekell all science and goodness. Then Mr. Hyde all emotion and evil. (or was it all
science and evil, all emotion and good?) They were one and separte . but died together.
Then there was Tarzan - Lord of the apes and/or Cliff Jons - Earl of Greystoke. "Half of me is Earl
of Greystoke...=snarl= The other half is Wild!" Everyone he loved died, he was left homeless. Not
welcome in the jungel - alien in society. Homeless but hopeful and Lord.
Then there is Me. Man and Beast, Separte but one, One trying to kill the other.
Micronauts won(?) a war. I learned from there thoughts and poems. I am constantly in fear, but that
is because I love. If I become fearless, it means I hold nothing dear at all.
Huntarr wrote an expression of Hope. I now rewrite, rearrange his words to express my dark soul.
* I breathed your choking city fumes,
* I sweated under dirty skies;
* I live in darkness, live in fear,
* I killed a man in my fourteenth year,
* I had everything to hold dear.
* I learned to dream from lies,
* Still in shadows, still in dirt
* I wouldn't let the human die - - -
* But the human beat me, burned me,
* * * made me scream,
* But I still have a stubborn dream.
* I hope my friends are having fun at Prom.
*I refer to the characters of the Micronauts comic book published by Marvel Comics. The issue
from which I get this poem is 'The Micronauts' vol. 1 #59 published August 1984.
No, I never did go to Prom. I was invited but I didn't go. It didn't feel right to go with out a date - I
would never have been able to ask the people I would have wanted to.*
Original © (for this entry)1996 October
The arctic is called a frozen wasteland. It's not, simply because it is frozen.
Frozen means white - white is pure. The arctic is pure treasure.
Pieces of our past - frozen. Stopped and suspended. The arctic is rich in minerals, artifacts and
hidden knowledge.
But that knowledge is frozen for a reason. Frozen also means cold. Cold keeps out the people.
Only the warm ones can enter. Even then its a trial to see if you can gain the knowedge and the
wealth and keep your warmth.
Even if you gain your knowledge, wealth or piece of past ... What do you do with it?
If you're warm you don't need it. If you become cold you'll never know what to do with it, without
killing yourself first. If you were cold to begin with you'll never find it to start with.
All things are born in order to die. Once concevied - even if in thought - you have lived and will ...
must ... die.
But some things are born to die and live on as treasure. A Piece of the past, frozen. Ready to be
found, warmed, teach, learn then die again. And that which was taught can then die ... happier.
I near the edge, but the edge of what? The last barrier I crossed I stubbed three toes. Quite painful.
There's a Storm Warning out but I wandered. Lightening struck me and my spirit tugs at an ear and
queries "Which one of those piles do I think I am?" They shrug then I ask "Did Dedilus actually fly
from the prison he made or only make a new one?" again they shrug and the Guilding light laughs as
trees die in vain.
"Yeah, sure. Now I have time to spare."
"Real studly today." jest Death Dealer.
"I appear the same as I always have. If you percieve a change you are either slow or very
observant." I reply codly, then proceed to the room of clay.
* Room of clay,
* Man of tin,
* Mind of straw,
* Is there a hope?
"You're a villian, I'm a villian, we're all villians!" Says Sting.
"I'm not a villian." I replied.
"Your a villian, She's a villian ... "
"I'm not a villian,'' she stated, "I'm a girl. I'm a villinell."
We all laughed. But the light still got dim.
Things are starting to happen. They happen soon, they happen quick and they are ill-named.
Finals. They aren't finals, nothing is final. These are test of irrelivant knowledge - except for perhaps
2 (more likely one). Maybe, just maybe, for the absolute last year in college they can call them
Finals. It doesen't make sence to take a final, then to take another when the first was the final.
Next is Senior Mens. We are Seniors (in high school), we may be men (some of us anyway). Yet
this is a party, we will act like children (drunken ones at that) and women are invited. Ill-named.
Last and most grossly ill-named - Graduation. Death is the only graduation and it was planed since
conception. You can fail this graduation. I've never heard of anyone fail death.
I have heard of those that fail to understand death. Death Dealer perhaps - Theseus diffinately.
The candle was lit, it grew to a flame, burned brightly, flickered a little. It relied on its parents - wick and match - then supported itself by drawing its own life - oxygen - then it is blown out, only the smokey memory survives.
*Lets not forget draw on support of friends - like the Wax*
* See the chameleon lieing there in the sun.
* I simply came undone.
* Here comes man, watch me run.
* See the chameleon lieing there in the dark,
* There on that bark.
* Can't change colors, he's in park.
->
|* See the chameleon lieing there dead.
|* Toasted from tail to head.
|* He stayed to long in bed.
|* / See the Chmeleon lieing there ready to die.
-< The one who can't cry.
* \ All he ever did was wave, good-bye.
I was nearly caught in secrete care. It would have been heavy to bear.
In my mind I teach the Patient Traveler of Gallifrey from under the pall of imenite death, or save the
world in bordem.
Anti-Heroes. I may not be one, but I may be worse.
Learn, damn it! Why is it so difficult? I'm to cut my hair tommorrow, but it isn't really time.
Brown-wolf, why do you faste?
shirt
= Be patient God ... I'm through with you. =
My Aunt has come. I enjoy her. She is the mother of the Yellow rose, and the Young militant. She
is also the Daughter of my Grand-father.
A chain I very much care for. Grandfather, Grandmother, Mother, Aunt, Yellow rose, Young
militant, even Loki.
The Indian wearing Black with Japanese letters warning - Strong! Terrible! Suprise!, came to me
today in reverence.
"Paint me," he said "paint me from the inside. Be truthful to my heritage and my self. Paint me in an
envorinment with my freind the wolf. Could you do that? please."
"I'll draw you as I see you my friend. But it will take time for you are a man of many sides."
My song plays - "Burning water, Smokey skys."
* Running water, blue skys.
* Rageing water, Tempest torn skys.
* Burning water, Smokey skys.
* Fire in the sky - smoke on the water.
Da da daaa - da da dada - da da daaa dada
* smoke on the water, Fire in the sky
The Cats claws are injured - there is no order to which he preaches.
| Back | Journal Gateway | Forward |
Copyright © 1998 July ( © should be implied by date writen, © reflects web publication)