Alright.
We're going to attempt to actually get started in doing this sunnavabitch. Since, in my masocistic streak, I actually linked it to my facebook account. I realize that just the sole fact of getting a facebook makes me somewhat masocistic-- but I was extremely bored at the time. *shrugs*
I'm going to delete some of my earlier entries, which were, in all entirely, just an excuse to update-- because really-- I haven't touched this thing in a long time. I suppose the whole idea of a Livejournal is somewhat silly, but its a good place to express thoughts and general ramblings. I have a few of the first, and far too many of the second.
The last two days have been.. interesting, if nothing else. As is somewhat obvious, me and Angela have split ways. Which I suppose makes me a swinging bachelor once again, look out. Leaping on what little intiative I had I once again got out and partied for St. Patties' day-- it was an interesting thing-- that ended up with me taking care of the girl that I went with come the end of the night. Oh well, I suppose we all do what we can. Saturday was Asian food day, once again involved probably a bit too much drinking, but I've been self-destructive lately. On the plus side, I met some wicked dudes. If I could put some of the smileys I've stolen from Somethingawful here, I would. But hark, I cannot.
I didn't go to class on Friday; I skipped logic in a spur of the moment decision that will only end in tears. (God I hate that class.) I skipped Modern Philosophy as well, but thats not a big deal, as it was just Locke. I figure I'll be fine come the test on Friday, as McGlynn likes me, if nothing else.
Since this is the place where I post my writing; I figure I'll throw up my most recent exercise from class. This is unedited, theres some repetition in the first couple of lines, but what can you do. (The names have not been changed to protect the innocent, sorry Boom.)
It was a tradition for boys our age to go through what most people would call an initiation test. We were twelve, Boom and I. His real name was Sikharin Khaorin Antry, a short nervous Thai kid with thick glasses, dark hair, and an infectious smile. Somehow, in his early years, the name "Boom" had gotten attached to him, and it had stuck. We were sitting in the kitchen of the cradle, sitting across from one another next to a pair of moldy wooden boards.
Boom was nervous, and I was having a good time tweaking his chain.
"You know, they say this place got the name the cradle because of what happened here."
His eyes darted left and right, and I traced a bead of sweat running down the side of his face, across the curve of his chin where it hung for a moment in suspended animation, then fell to the dust on the linoleum floor. His voice cracked, "What do you mean?"
I darted my eyes left and right as if I was some conspirator, sharing the details to an elaborate heist, "The cradle, man. Shit, you've never heard of the cradle?" I had just started swearing, I thought it made me seem grown up, sophisticated.
"N-no."
"They say, that a long time ago this place was a fuckin' crazy house. They brought all the crazies here, then, one night-- there was a riot. Somehow a fire got started, and the whole fucking place burned down with everyone inside." It was a traditional haunted house story, and I smirked inwardly as Boom's eyes widened in horror.
"Thats not all though-- shit, thats just the tip of the icebur-"
"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!" Boom screamed and leapt up as something creaked upstairs. Despite the fact that we had heard those same creaks all night as the house moved and settled, Boom's nerves were wound as tight as a spring.
"Calm down, dude. Its just the old house settlin'. I ain't finished my story yet, donnya wanna hear the rest?"
Boom was shaking his head now, "Dude, I got a really bad feelin' about this, I don't wanna be here anymore." His accent was getting heavier, he really was getting nervous.
I reached up a hand and pulled him back down to the floor, then patted him on the shoulder with what I thought was a reassuring gesture.
"We've just gotta make it till midnight, man. Thats only 45 more minutes," I said indicating my watch. "Now, where was I? Oh, right.. then later, I think it was about 20 years or somethin, or at least thats what I been told, they built an orphanage here. Just redid the house and started stickin kids in it. Everything was fine for about a year, but then freaky shit started happening."
"Freaky shit..?"
"Yeah," I darted my eyes again and lowered my voice to a whisper, "Kids, they started dissapearing. Taken right out of their beds. They say, that when the police opened up the old basement that had survived from the old crazy house, some room with padded walls and chains and shit, that they found all the kids that had dissapeared with their eyes gouged out and their skin ripped off th-"
There was a crash from one the upper floors, it sounded like a vase shattering into a thousand tiny shards.
Boom started screaming, he jumped up from where he was standing, and put a steadying hand on the wall as the blood rushed to his head. The wood must have been bad, eaten away by mold and rot over the course of the house's disuse; it gave way under Boom's hand and his lower arm, up to his elbow, burst through the wall.
Boom's eyes were livid with terror now, and he was screaming so loud it hurt to be near him. Froth was congealing around the corners of his mouth, as he struggled against the sodden wood. I put my hands on his elbow to try and guide him out, but he was past the point of help now; his pupils enormous black dots surrounded by the livid whites of his eyes.
"OH MY GODOHMYGOD SOMETHING HAS MY HAND.." his voice broke off into inaritculate screaming gibbers as he tugged wildly at the wood, cutting deep furrows in his dark skin.
Somewhere in the course of his thrashing and screaming, and my attempts to help him get out (he was only working himself deeper into the wood,) he punched me in the face. It wasn't intentional, but his thrashing fist was powered by the raw adrenaline of terror. It knocked me off my feet, spun me around, and deposited me in a neat little heap several feet away.
As I tried to pick myself off the ground and stop the stars from spinning above my head, Boom went totally silent. The room hung there for a couple moments, the only sounds the creaking of the settling cradle. Boom's eyes were the size of the saucer plates, his body twisted and convulted from the intensity of his thrasing, his mouth worked soundlessly, opening and closing with no words.
He let out bastardization of a sigh and terrified moan, "So cold.." collapsed against the wood, snapped the rotting planks with his forward inertia, and fell into the cradle.
Thats it, I'm outta here.
I'm going to delete some of my earlier entries, which were, in all entirely, just an excuse to update-- because really-- I haven't touched this thing in a long time. I suppose the whole idea of a Livejournal is somewhat silly, but its a good place to express thoughts and general ramblings. I have a few of the first, and far too many of the second.
The last two days have been.. interesting, if nothing else. As is somewhat obvious, me and Angela have split ways. Which I suppose makes me a swinging bachelor once again, look out. Leaping on what little intiative I had I once again got out and partied for St. Patties' day-- it was an interesting thing-- that ended up with me taking care of the girl that I went with come the end of the night. Oh well, I suppose we all do what we can. Saturday was Asian food day, once again involved probably a bit too much drinking, but I've been self-destructive lately. On the plus side, I met some wicked dudes. If I could put some of the smileys I've stolen from Somethingawful here, I would. But hark, I cannot.
I didn't go to class on Friday; I skipped logic in a spur of the moment decision that will only end in tears. (God I hate that class.) I skipped Modern Philosophy as well, but thats not a big deal, as it was just Locke. I figure I'll be fine come the test on Friday, as McGlynn likes me, if nothing else.
Since this is the place where I post my writing; I figure I'll throw up my most recent exercise from class. This is unedited, theres some repetition in the first couple of lines, but what can you do. (The names have not been changed to protect the innocent, sorry Boom.)
It was a tradition for boys our age to go through what most people would call an initiation test. We were twelve, Boom and I. His real name was Sikharin Khaorin Antry, a short nervous Thai kid with thick glasses, dark hair, and an infectious smile. Somehow, in his early years, the name "Boom" had gotten attached to him, and it had stuck. We were sitting in the kitchen of the cradle, sitting across from one another next to a pair of moldy wooden boards.
Boom was nervous, and I was having a good time tweaking his chain.
"You know, they say this place got the name the cradle because of what happened here."
His eyes darted left and right, and I traced a bead of sweat running down the side of his face, across the curve of his chin where it hung for a moment in suspended animation, then fell to the dust on the linoleum floor. His voice cracked, "What do you mean?"
I darted my eyes left and right as if I was some conspirator, sharing the details to an elaborate heist, "The cradle, man. Shit, you've never heard of the cradle?" I had just started swearing, I thought it made me seem grown up, sophisticated.
"N-no."
"They say, that a long time ago this place was a fuckin' crazy house. They brought all the crazies here, then, one night-- there was a riot. Somehow a fire got started, and the whole fucking place burned down with everyone inside." It was a traditional haunted house story, and I smirked inwardly as Boom's eyes widened in horror.
"Thats not all though-- shit, thats just the tip of the icebur-"
"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!" Boom screamed and leapt up as something creaked upstairs. Despite the fact that we had heard those same creaks all night as the house moved and settled, Boom's nerves were wound as tight as a spring.
"Calm down, dude. Its just the old house settlin'. I ain't finished my story yet, donnya wanna hear the rest?"
Boom was shaking his head now, "Dude, I got a really bad feelin' about this, I don't wanna be here anymore." His accent was getting heavier, he really was getting nervous.
I reached up a hand and pulled him back down to the floor, then patted him on the shoulder with what I thought was a reassuring gesture.
"We've just gotta make it till midnight, man. Thats only 45 more minutes," I said indicating my watch. "Now, where was I? Oh, right.. then later, I think it was about 20 years or somethin, or at least thats what I been told, they built an orphanage here. Just redid the house and started stickin kids in it. Everything was fine for about a year, but then freaky shit started happening."
"Freaky shit..?"
"Yeah," I darted my eyes again and lowered my voice to a whisper, "Kids, they started dissapearing. Taken right out of their beds. They say, that when the police opened up the old basement that had survived from the old crazy house, some room with padded walls and chains and shit, that they found all the kids that had dissapeared with their eyes gouged out and their skin ripped off th-"
There was a crash from one the upper floors, it sounded like a vase shattering into a thousand tiny shards.
Boom started screaming, he jumped up from where he was standing, and put a steadying hand on the wall as the blood rushed to his head. The wood must have been bad, eaten away by mold and rot over the course of the house's disuse; it gave way under Boom's hand and his lower arm, up to his elbow, burst through the wall.
Boom's eyes were livid with terror now, and he was screaming so loud it hurt to be near him. Froth was congealing around the corners of his mouth, as he struggled against the sodden wood. I put my hands on his elbow to try and guide him out, but he was past the point of help now; his pupils enormous black dots surrounded by the livid whites of his eyes.
"OH MY GODOHMYGOD SOMETHING HAS MY HAND.." his voice broke off into inaritculate screaming gibbers as he tugged wildly at the wood, cutting deep furrows in his dark skin.
Somewhere in the course of his thrashing and screaming, and my attempts to help him get out (he was only working himself deeper into the wood,) he punched me in the face. It wasn't intentional, but his thrashing fist was powered by the raw adrenaline of terror. It knocked me off my feet, spun me around, and deposited me in a neat little heap several feet away.
As I tried to pick myself off the ground and stop the stars from spinning above my head, Boom went totally silent. The room hung there for a couple moments, the only sounds the creaking of the settling cradle. Boom's eyes were the size of the saucer plates, his body twisted and convulted from the intensity of his thrasing, his mouth worked soundlessly, opening and closing with no words.
He let out bastardization of a sigh and terrified moan, "So cold.." collapsed against the wood, snapped the rotting planks with his forward inertia, and fell into the cradle.
Thats it, I'm outta here.