Diary #3 [muse_diaries]
[John has been avoiding this for a long while. But since meeting Elizabeth in the hall.. and hadn't that been a surprise. He does. He needs to write. She was right, as always. Hallucination or not. Or maybe just wishful thinking.
Pressing his pen to the page, he just tries to recall the dream without any of the attached emotions. Easier said than done.]
Stardate 1116.6
Turns out I'm not as crazy as I thought. Or, well... I'm not gonna see Heightmeyer anymore. I'll keep this journal, for a little while. Just until... we figure out what's up with this device. Another one? I know. There's always another one.
I just want him to stay with me, is that such a fucking problem? Three months and I want him here, with me. I don't think that's unreasonable. I know what he'd say - "Tell that to the Air Force." Some days I'm goddamn tempted. Jesus.
So I had this dream. Elizabeth told me to log it. You heard me right. Elizabeth. Not another, goddamn word. I helped her find her watch.
...Koyla came back. In this dream. He tried to take my jumper - I told him to suck my cock.
So he cut my fucking arm off. Well, my hand, really. For genetic material. The ATA gene. What kind of goddamn bullshit is that?
I killed nearly a dozen of his dudes though, without a hand. That's how badass I am. And come on, subconscious, could you not have thought up something better than an uninspired clip from The Lion King? I was dangling off the fucking edge of a cliff? Why?
Fuck symbolism. And fuck Koyla. He's dead. Deader than the day I killed him.
You know what the fucked up part of it was? Of course you do - I'll tell you anyway. I should say, the part that fucked me up the most because the hand-losing thing? Pretty fucked up.
He called me Johnny-boy. What the hell is that? Can my fucking daddy issues stay out of one facet of my life. Or just my dreams. My dreams would do.
Dave still hasn't emailed me back, I don't think he's going to. Oh well, I tried, right? Maybe 17 years really was too much to ever repair the damage that I did by leaving. I get it, I do. It just shouldn't hurt this much, this..
I was supposed to be talking about my dream. That was it. That's all she wrote, folks. He. Whatever.
I lost my hand. Koyla's a bastard. I miss Rodney.
The end.
[He doesn't even bother putting it away this time, just turns and throws it against the damn wall.]
Muse: Colonel John Sheppard
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Word Count: 443
[ md:003]
Pressing his pen to the page, he just tries to recall the dream without any of the attached emotions. Easier said than done.]
Stardate 1116.6
Turns out I'm not as crazy as I thought. Or, well... I'm not gonna see Heightmeyer anymore. I'll keep this journal, for a little while. Just until... we figure out what's up with this device. Another one? I know. There's always another one.
I just want him to stay with me, is that such a fucking problem? Three months and I want him here, with me. I don't think that's unreasonable. I know what he'd say - "Tell that to the Air Force." Some days I'm goddamn tempted. Jesus.
So I had this dream. Elizabeth told me to log it. You heard me right. Elizabeth. Not another, goddamn word. I helped her find her watch.
...Koyla came back. In this dream. He tried to take my jumper - I told him to suck my cock.
So he cut my fucking arm off. Well, my hand, really. For genetic material. The ATA gene. What kind of goddamn bullshit is that?
I killed nearly a dozen of his dudes though, without a hand. That's how badass I am. And come on, subconscious, could you not have thought up something better than an uninspired clip from The Lion King? I was dangling off the fucking edge of a cliff? Why?
Fuck symbolism. And fuck Koyla. He's dead. Deader than the day I killed him.
You know what the fucked up part of it was? Of course you do - I'll tell you anyway. I should say, the part that fucked me up the most because the hand-losing thing? Pretty fucked up.
He called me Johnny-boy. What the hell is that? Can my fucking daddy issues stay out of one facet of my life. Or just my dreams. My dreams would do.
Dave still hasn't emailed me back, I don't think he's going to. Oh well, I tried, right? Maybe 17 years really was too much to ever repair the damage that I did by leaving. I get it, I do. It just shouldn't hurt this much, this..
I was supposed to be talking about my dream. That was it. That's all she wrote, folks. He. Whatever.
I lost my hand. Koyla's a bastard. I miss Rodney.
The end.
[He doesn't even bother putting it away this time, just turns and throws it against the damn wall.]
Muse: Colonel John Sheppard
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Word Count: 443
[ md:003]