"No, you can't stay mad at the setting sun."

A friend of mine was heart-breakingly upset today. A friend of his, or to be more precise, an ex-boyfriend, had been in the hospital. He had AIDS. He has just died, and my dear friend was broken up. I found him in a side hallway, silent and staring out the door. I was the only one in my group that went to talk to him. He fell apart, crying when I pulled him into a hug. Poor dear. He's afraid that he may have it, too. He can't tell his parents, they wouldn't understand. I don't think he's even out of the closet to them. I promised him that I'd look into finding him some place to get tested without his parents knowing. I told him that if he had anything, that I'd be there for him. He needs it. He was upset because the boy he likes, who is also a friend of mine, was not helping him through this. This other friend, though older than the first by a couple years, is markedly less mature. I told him that sometimes you need a friend, not a boyfriend. "He's just in it for the sex," I said, and he laughed. He was smiling when I left, so I'm not too worried, but I will find him later to make sure that he's alright.

I guess I got what I deserved, didn’t I?
This is the price I have to pay to get to where I’m going. I’ve pushed people back for so long that nobody bothers anymore. You can’t keep a stray cat. I’ll only run away again. I’ve gnawed my own foot off to escape the traps that have been laid for me. Everything is just a procession of unremarkable moments, so I’ll sleep to make them go faster. Why be there at all? Nothing will be different. “We all get tired; I mean eventually, there is nothing left to do but sleep." Every day is like Sunday. So I wandered off, does it matter? I don't think it did. If anyone noticed or cared, they would have come looking for me. The funny thing is, I don't want them to. All I'm trying to do is differentiate today from yesterday. All I want to know is that something is happening, that something is real. Maybe I can't get that. Maybe the fact that I walk away is what is keeping me from finding anything. Maybe they keep looking for me, but I've hidden so well that I just can't be found. Maybe I see someone comeing and run in terror. Maybe I'm always going to walk away. Let me walk away, please.

You got a perfect skin...

So I finally have chapter three up...I'm so damn relieved. I think it turned out fantastically. Scarlett is a wonderful beta. I've started chapter four, and maybe I'll get in done within my own deadline. In other news, blah blahblah blah blaaaaah. Chicken blah.

http://www.jussi69.narod.ru/2005.04.22_barcelona.avi

This kid's got beer down his pants!!!

Do Not Ask For Whom The Bell Tolls--It Tolls For Thee

The door takes forever to close. It's like one of those huge dungeon doors, the kind that closes with thunder a minute after you pass through. By no visible hand, it closes. The darkness falls like a velvet curtain, complete with dust. It chokes and tickles the throat and lungs. A spasm of coughing is the only sound that echoes through the vacant realm, excepting that of an overdramatic voice that seems to emanate from the ceiling. What? Why are you looking at me like that? I like to narrate things. It's fun. Well, because I always wanted to narrate scary movies. What do you mean, why don't I just write a book? BECAUSE A BOOK IS NOT LOUD ENOUGH! The booming noise deafens all who anger the voices. Check that shit out, bitch! I control your reality!

The Fervent Refusal to Co-operate

I will not participate in charity. I will not be ordered to create simple because you wish me to. I take these projects so my original artwork can be seen, not so you can use my skills to your end. I refuse. I will not be compromised in my ideal. I will not conform to what is acceptable and unoriginal. I will not be repressed. You will not threaten or guilt me with your imaginary consequences. Beleive that you are facing a person who knows how to make her own decisions and stand by them.

http://shyboyswin.tripod.com/Go_For_Smith.wmv

Check it out, people.