Book 5 November 11 1984 to April 24 1985

8501.14

    Carzy things happen when you're on the verge of being sick, or sane.
    I took two asprin last night and went to bed early. I sound asleep, I rolled over and was wide awake. I lay there trying to sleep and couldn't. I looked at the clock it said 1:45. I continued to lay there. I looked at the clock sometime later, it said 1:03. I rolled over and thought
"Great! I'm sleeping backwards."
    That didn't make any sence so I reasoned that before it was 11:45 and the time elapsed was longer then I thought.
    At 1:3Ø I couldn't take it anymore. I got up and took two more tylenol. Went back up stairs and fell asleep as soon as I hit the sheets. I then had that very stange dream and woke up at 9:ØØ.
    "What would you like to do?" asked Marc.
    "I'd like to be able to sleep without dreams of death and blindness." I said. Then I smiled and turned, "Why don't we see a movie instead."
    I don't really miss Marc but I can't stop thinking of him. Sounds wierd doesn't it.
    Oh, Jason said when he was in the Ozarks a woman read his future. She said Jason will die in his late twenties, unmarried, and in a plane crash. Documented here. Lets see if it happens.

*Nope, early Thirties, working for a travel agency - been married and divorced.*

8501.15

    Tomorrow I enroll, today nothing happend (the car wouldn't start). I did get to Grandmothers to borrow her typewriter. Then to gymnastics. I love vault so much and now thought a bit of a sucker bet I get to do sukzs (sue-k's) - a round off on the vault to a back flip. I've been wanting to do one for a long time.
    I just thought of something; this is turning out to be more of a journal diary then a journal. Not good.
    Then again; maybe I just haven't been thinking lately. Not good either.
    Maybe once I get into school again the brain will work. I can't wait for school. I like to learn and think. The more I know the more I can use in my fight for or against the Beast.
    Lately I've been indfferent about that. Not encouraging it but not stoping it either. Before it was like trying not to think about a white horse (impossible by the way).
                Goodnight ( Somewhere)

8501.17

I enrolled, things turned out okay. The dog made me sick, she threw up in five large spots on the new carpet. If there is one thing in life I can't handel its vomit. I can't stand to; look at, pick-up, watch someone, or myself, vomit. The first thing that happens when I vomit is yell, loudly, for my mother. Then I continue to yell as I flayl about clumbsily. The sight, taste and act of vomiting makes me wish to vomit so its hard for me to stop and I go on until my throat burns from stomach acid.
    What I hate most about this is that I am totally helpless and and unable to controll myself. I have this overwhelming desire to be in controll. I don't want to lead but I want to be secure. Controll means knowing what will happen, I want to know the plan. Marc was always just the opposite. He was extremly spontanous and notorious for thowing a wrench in the works.
    I am ging to bed I need rest. More think time. Oh, insidentily. Lost my eye, Marc tryied to set me up (with a man) I refused, Chris got married, I fell in love with Marc's fix anyway after I got my glass eye. Funny? I don't know.

*This last paragraph was obviously a story running through my head (elements of it come up again in many stories). I will relate at least one of these stories soon - I'm looking forward to finding it.*

8501.18

    a. I think I'm being haunted. When I'm alone in the house I hear walking noises, and things will move or drop. All the animals are in sight. I don't think much of that. I chalk it up to bad memory or overactive imagination. But sometimes I hear Jason (or someone that sounds like him) someplace in the house. No radio. No TV. I'm alone.
    Then there was that time, long ago, when I felt someone lie down next to me. I tingeled all over where he (or it) touched me.
    Maybe its just me and my demons.
*I still remember this happening - though it was eerie I was very calm and relaxed. I don't think it was an evil or harmful spirit. If anything it was protective.*
    b. I'm losing my voice. I can hardly speak. I sound like a bad case of puberty. I like the stage where my voice is gruff or I can't talk at all, but not this stage. Last time I had it, I was working and Marc was making fun of my voice. He went to work with me that day then we went to eat. Denny's I think.
    c. My dreams are mine. But there is this tall brown skined woman with a purple Mohawk wearing Leather, she seems to show up often, uninvited. Recently more then ever. Her name is Death. But she's not atractive to me now, because she's a woman.

8501.19

    How many dreams can a man have before he goes mad? How many unfullfilled wishes before he gives up hope?
    His form is long and sleek but muscularly sculpted. His hair is black as night, his eyes bluer then sky. His smile fills his face and puts a sparkel in his eye, you can't help but feel relaxed. We never speak, we never needed to.
    I met his eyes and they pierce through me. He smiles and nods slightly. I turn away, nervous, embarased, feeling vunerable and found out. I leave the party for some air.
    Alone I start to walk toward the field. Silently there comes another set of footprints. It's him. He walks next to me. He smiles and we play this game of dodge and weave with our eyes. He tries to look me in the eyes, I avoid it for I know that if I do, I'll be lost in them forever. I do look him in the eyes, though. I do become lost in a tide of confusing emotions. He seems to understand and looks forward, still smiling.
    I look forward and smile. I relax. My hands open up and I'm lost in thoughts of what might come.
    We end up in a barn. I sit down on a haystack. He sits next to me. We're very close, there's eye contact. I lean in a little then stop. I hesitate. He leans in and kisses me, . gently. I pull away suddenly lost in thoughts of guilt and shame. I think of my friends and what they might think, how they might be hurt.
    He begins to turn away. I look at him and our eyes meet. I see hurt but also understanding. There is no smile on his face. In an instant a decision is made. Forceably I sieze his arm, pull him toward me me and kiss him back.
    It was all so very gentel and so very ... unreal. Only a fantasy, a shattered hope a broken dream. An instant of love inspired by a small segment of the Hitchhicker. If only we dream.
    The more I think, the more I die. 

8501.2Ø

    Dominator's at it again. I mean really, its only a car. I realize it causes problems but its no reason to get livid and yell top lung at my mother. It's no one's fault.
    Back-up.
    I've only heard my father tell the story. Knowing my father and my visual imagination to see the accident as he described it I will tell you what I think happened.
    As my father was driving my mother's new used-car with my mother and brother and . brother as passengers to pick up my Grandmother (Turner) for brunch, the following accident happened on 29th and near Kansas. As my father was flying the car (not speeding or anything, its just my father is a pilot and he looks at driving like flying. Look right, left, forward, up, down - never behind and when in the air you can leave the wheel for short periods of time or mess with the wires) anyway, as my father was flying the car a lady pulled out in front of him "trying to turn left over a double yellow line!" (a sin of driving I've seen my father commit only a hundred times in my life - but not today (he even wore his seatbealt) that is after the accident). To the best of my knowledge my father hit her "but she was more at fault then I ... " denting her car, his car and bumping his head (the only injury people wise). Knowing no better he exhanged names and insurance companies and each left. (Dumb - he needed licence number, drivers licence number, insurance number, type of policy and in more simple terms simply should have waited for the police to file a report for the inusrance).
    So any how this is the least of . it. Now (its Dark) we realize the break-lights won't go off. This has been going on long enough to drain the battery alowing lights but no turn over in the car.
    When I came in from finding all of this out my father was on the stairs, head down saying;
    "He can't turn turn them off. It won't turn over." He threw his hands up shrugging his shoulders "I don't know what to tell you." He then heavy footed it down stairs and reclined.
    I looked at mom and she said,
    "It's not his fault."
    "I know," I said, "But he's going to be upset anyway."
    I walked up to mother and we discussed that now my father had the only working car and his was in front of my mothers in the drive way. Mom and I went down to dad.
    "Art," my mother started, "Do you want Bret to help you put my car in the street so you ..."
    "Your car won't work worth a shit unless we charge the battery, disconnect the battery Or we could disconnect the Break lights if you'd a made a God damn key to the back!"
    "Honey, its not my fault! I just . thought if we put mine in the street so you could use yours in the morning."
    I heard my father grummble. I couldn't believe my father would get so upset over a stupid car.
    Recently he's been up here slamming doors and pounding things down instead of setting them down. I still don't know what we're going to do tommorow but I will be better then then yell at the car's and other people.
    School starts tommorow. I'm a tad nervous but I'll make it. I've been listening to all my old music (the lyrics of which I've used in here before) Powerful songs like 'Rainbow in the Dark', 'Voices', 'Let the Sunshine', 'Mama', 'In the air tonight', 'Hell is for children', 'Hotel California', and others. Like listening to pure pain.
    Any way I need to prepare for bed.
    'If thine eye offends thee, take it out.'
    This quote keeps going through my mind with the image of me removing my glass eye (from my last story) and throwing it down letting it shatter into a million pieces.

8501.21

    I'm learning again.
    Averil, Understanding short fiction. Should be alot of fun. I already have the first assingment done up here (in my head).
    Eyman, Psychology of ajustment. She's fun, too. Seems very knowledgeable and competant. I think I'll enjoy and use the subject/matter.
    Gymnastics is the worst organized thing I've ever seen. We'll see how it turns out.
    Waterman, Drawing II. lots of fun. I've had Waterman before. When I was about 1Ø or 12 years old. She's good. I'm impressed by her work.
    I've yet to go to Honors Art history. Lot of work.

    No real earth shaking thoughts. I'm intreged by what I've heard of Pieres Anthony's 'A pale horse'. Killing Death and inheriting the office. Time living backwards and handing the office to someone living forward (who now lives backwards). Paradox must be making a fortune!

8501.22

    Uh ... . . Interesting day, and uh .... well .... thats all.

8501.25

    Had something to say, forgot it. Its late and I guess I'm just a rotten evil person. In short; I miss Marc, I miss Grandpa, I miss Brian and Duff, I feel alone, class is interesting, ect. ect. ect.

8501.27

    Only diary stuff today. I'm trying to stay away from it.

    I went to see a movie, saw a great looking piece of flesh. I know that sounds bad but its true. I don't know the person, I don't know anything about him. He looked damn good and didn't smell bad. Balor (the name of a D&D character - a thief) didn't get to feel him but the rest drove images through my mind. All I know is his body (never heard him speak) and what he wore (Black leather jacket, white T-shirt, Black parachute pants, white sneakers, Black armbands with silver spikes). All I can call him is a great peice of flesh. All I can allow myself to think.
    Rainbow in the Dark (DIO) Voices (RUSS BALLARD) Doctor Doctor (THOMASON TWINS) When Doves Cry (PRINCE) Hotel Californa (EAGELS) Mama (GENISIS) ect. pure pain.
    Then to bed. Bussy week.

8501.29

    A whopper came by yesterday.
= Ring =
    "Hello."
    "Hi, Bret there?" It's Davids voice.
    "I'm Bret."
    "Oh, Sorry you sounded like Jason for a minuet."
    "It's Okay, What's up?"
    "Just wanted to warn you that you may be getting a bill from my Doctor."
    "What?! Why? Am I sick?"
    "No, Just didn't want my parents to see it."
    "Why? What is it? VD!"
    "Yeah!" there seemed a kind of glee in that expression. However I nearly fell to the floor. Here I am standing infront of my Mother, brother and Jodi having shouted "VD" and left no way out of the conversation. (Meaning I couldn't tell them he was joking)
    "Really?" no real answer, jut a hum.
    "How bad was it?"
    "Not real bad."
    "What did you get?"
    "Goneril. Those shots are painfull." *Gonorrhea I believe is what I meant to write*
    "I'll bet. So you sent it here?"
    "Yeah, Just call me when you get it."
    "The bill?"
    "Yeah, reall funny."
    "Okay. Talk to you later then."
    "I hope so."

    We said goodbye and I was left facing my mother with Jason and Jodi rolling on the floor in laughter.
    Soon after I realized I shouldn't be surprised. I had heard, even in my removed location from the school, that David skipped a class and "did it" with Serena Blair in the Broom closet of the auditorium. And from what I've heard Serena Blair is a cow and a dog in looks and a Bitch in attitude. David must have been hard up, and stupid. At least he was smart enough to realize something was wrong and get it treated before it was to late.
    Well, tomorrows a full day. I need sleep.
            P.S. (Ha Ha)
                    Loki (Jason) got a job today. He's a Muffin-boy at Showcase Dinner Theater. He's really proud. He should be. He does real good for himself.

*By 'removed location' I meant that we where not attending the same schools. I teased Jason mercilessly about being a 'Muffin-Boy' (which only meant that he went around the restaurant with a cart of muffins asking if anyone wanted any ... hell, he made more money then I did) - he did quickly climb the ranks of that job, becoming the host before long. It was also near Theater, his greatest love of the time.*

8501.3Ø

    Its bitter cold and the white sands of death promote solitude and lonelyness. There was a frozen layer of snow on the ground which became bright with the sun. Yesterday the sky turned grey and ground remained white. The air was dry and wind cold.
    Then came that peculiur winter smell. A kind of dry moisture smell in the fresh cold air. I turned and looked a raven haired man with blue eyes, he smiled and said "Shits gonna start fallin' any minute now." "I know,' I replied, 'I can smell it in the air." Then as if to confirm our insight the North wind scrapped across our faces.
    Then I was alone and small white flecks of death came drifting down to the earth. Darkness came and I cried out for light. My trusty Colt provided until the harbingers of death came in bigger and colder killing my car. Colt is easy to bring back, but the trees aren't, but even then the cold would not relent.
    At school the bitter winds bit and people became warm and tender to counter the bite. The winds, though, seemed to chose out one soliary figure in black to wrap its icy arms about.

    In Garvey the music sounds of joy seemed exchanged for cold and lofty pieces of gloom. Although heated Garvey seemed cold, then empty. White death killed the school, everyone was gone leaving only the ghostly sounds of chilled instruments. Ready to leave the ghost town besiged by large flakes of death comeing down in wet and dry layers, I found my car waiting outside dead and covered with white Death. The locks were frozen shut and the doors groaned open to disgorge a quite cold.
    Later in the Black of night, which created a surreal landscape of yin and yang, we came to reclaim the dead car. Hooking positvie to positive, negitive to negitive with white on the engine and black in the air the car roared to life. I let the car run to become warm as my fingers froze to numbness under my black gloves.
    As we rode home I watched as the lose dry snow was blown over the asphalt like a low laying fog or smoke. I noticed how they came in streaks that weaved about like white cobras, running south driven by the north winds. As I watched this and tried to feel my dead fingers I concluded that death . will allways enter my life from the North West. North, land of the bitter cold and the white death. West the place of Manifest Destiny and the place were the day dies. Life comes from the South East. South, home of sunshine and warmth. East, the place the day begins. From the North East and the South West will come two of my most important Lovers.
    I slowed the car and wiped the frost from the inside windows. A minature snow inside my car. The heater was blowing and I could begin to feel my right fingers. The fingers of my left hand ached from the cold for it grasp at warm fantasys. I soon realized that such fantasys are created from stagnet ice, yellow with age.
    Thus home once more and once again warm, I craved for action. Something to make me move and feel alive. Gymnastics.
    I dressed to go, called then left. I arrived to a barren area, covered with snow. Colt slipped a little but pulled through. I went in and my Coach smiled.
    "No class tonight. Sorry"
    I travelled home over the icy viperous snakes thinking, 'The cold even killed the gym.' and somewhere a lady with a mohawk of purple laughes.

8501.31

    "Real Men" by Joe Jackson. There's a song I'd like to record and get the lyrics to.
    "Every now and then we wonder who the real men are ..."
    He sings of role models, mascline and femimine ideals, fagots (as he said it I hate that word) and in a way the confused ideal of androgeny.
    "Take your self back,
    I don't know when.
    When girls wore pink
    And men wore blue
    And grew up better then you ..."
My trilogy took a nasty turn.
    Book 1 ) Cliff Roberts moves in from the S.W. and guesses the meaning of the glove. Reluctantly I fall in love, deeply in love. Just when all seems to be going 'well', Marc returns. Guilt returns with him for me. I struggel between aliances.
    Tragedy. I draw Cliff into an alley for 'necking'. Two men attack and kill Cliff infront of me. I live. Marc can tell I'm starting to lose it and tries to help but I can't talk to him because of the circumstances. The two men kidnap me and I kill them. One with a flare gun, one by hand and I lose my eye. I go on trial, Marc figures out the glove and tries to set me up with Steve. I refuse. I get my glass eye and fall in like. The last line in this book is ' Let's give it a try."

    Book 2 ) Steve and I are good friends but there is an element missing. Called Love. I talk to Marc about it and he agreed with me that I should break it off. (The murders still linger heavily on my mind) I go over to Steves and find him with someone. Anger. I storm out then realize how silly it is. Steve comes after me to explain and slips on the ice in the street. I begin to explain then see car coming at great speed. I push Steve aside, he slides on ice and hits head, Car slides strikes pole and over turns. Send (Steve's) new lover after police and ambulance. Steve unconscious, female driver dead. Male passenger alive and frantic, needs to find little bother. His (little brothers) name is Mathias Johnathan Shepard. I look for him, find him, he dies in my arms. I return and passenger also dead. I shatter my glass eye.

    I'll finish this book tommorrow with the third.
        Its late.

8502.01 supplimentary

    Book 2 cont.) I again receede into myself. Marc tries to help. I won't talk, Marc stays and studys for finalls next to me. Last day of finals and we go to my apartment to celebrate. There is a knock at the door.

I open the door (Marc leans back in chair) Gary comes in says he has a surprise. Quickly he pulls out a revolver and fires a shot at Marc, I see Marc fall. All the Death and rage overcome me and in a bezerk rage I disarm Gary have him pinned and ready to deliver a killing blow when Marc pulls me off (gun loaded with blanks - Gary wanted to see our reactions. Surprise made Marc lose balance in chair). Phone rings, I get my bags and leave. "Marc, I'm not running. I simply need some distance to get my perspective." I go to England. I continue to run into a black woman with a purple Mohawk. I leave freaked out. I go to the rockys and an indian begins to teach me the ways of the wild. A woman taking a bath in a pond is frightened by a bear. I chase it off and find She is a hitch/hicker camping with Marc + Brian. I leave a message; they never see me (I am only in a loin-cloth) I have a sun dance, the vision explained Death to me. (I cause happiness in a man before death, Avenged him and sent to hell two men deserving. I saved one not ready to die, comforted a dieing man and fullfilled the last dream of a dieing child) I was chrisened Black Hawk after a dark feather fell and I went home.

    Note the last 2 books took place from '85 to the last part of '86
                                            over

   Book 3) later part of '87. My 21^st birthday. Steve comes by to offer a 'Birthday present'. I except. We make love. Just as we finish David sneak in and yells 'surprise' - seeing what he does and not knowing I was says shit and leaves. I chase after and begin to explain. Steve leaves. David leaves. I am alone.
    2 days later an indian man with a braided mohawk knock on my door looking for someone else. He was going to "kill" the guy dating his sister now. I invited him in and talked him out of it, then he made a pass at me (close to a demand) I refused. However he did come back and we grew toward eachother. Marc had found his perfect women in the mean-time (his ^ sister ( | Doug's - Mohawk)) *That mess means, Doug's, the guy with the Mohawk, sister is Marc's new love* '88 January the wind blows from the North (Note - Doug was from Oregon (NW)) I'm meditating, Marc enters to tell me of his new love (He made love to her that night) I begin to have a vision. Death. Marc sees me begin to shake and sweat. Death tells me I'm going to go, and I wouldn't be alone. Then she leaves and I see Marc making Love to a form. I come out and yell bitch scaring Marc. I begin to hastily write down the vision and my rationalizations while Marc all the while continues to talk of his love.
Doug breaks in, I stop writing . He fires a revolver at Marc, I stand in the way My arm Shot. He fires again I'm hit in chest and Marc disarms him, and They begin to struggle. all I can do is watch, unable to truely move. The fight leaves the room, I spell Agape on the wall in blood.
->Doug throws Marc out the second story window. He returns and sees what he's done, takes the gun and commits suicide. David then returns to apologize for his brash actions Months before. He reads the journal and views the bodys then calls the police.

Nasty trilogy, eh? The arrow shows what hadn't worked out in my mind until just then. Maybe one day I'll truely write this all out.
Maybe.

*Maybe not - unless I can come up with some real reasons for all this to happen. Though I find it interesting that in this story - Marc excepted that I was gay.*

© 2000 July (Date implied by entry date, Date of copyright covers web publication)