Author's Note: After the first one, all the moods are various states of depression and sadness. All the entries up to sleeping occurred over a two-hour period of night. I've separated them all with <HR> tags.

current mood: fading adrenalin afterglow 

How can some people do this?
        (why don't i want to believe
                        /because that's me/)
    i hate the darkness and the thrall of fear
                                             but
                                               that just draws
                                                       me
                                              closer
                                                so i deny it
                            in me and in others
                                     afraid i'll be dragged down
                   when it's denial
                                        and
submission
                                            that i long for (lust for)
                               NO (yes)

Given the 3am time, and that she's still alive, I know with certainty born of dread terror what happened next...
grrrrrrr!

Thus do I learn love's first hard lesson. You have to share the pain as well as the joy.

Somehow, I'm not afraid of the dark. Why? Because I have a knife? No, because I am a man.

(Ah, stereotypes rear their ugly heads... and fantasy.
I'd fight.
Or not.
I don't want to go to jail/court for something I did when I wasn't me.)

I want to run away. But there's nowhere to run to, and how would that help anyone here (i.e. on Earth?)

I can walk around, almost crying, and nobody notices.

Time passes, but nothing matters.

I feel as if I am dying because someone I don't know did something to someone I might not know, and she is the friend of someone I've never met in person.

now it seems like too much love
is never enough

(and even if i could i wouldn't kill him--if his life were to mean so little, what about mine?)

I'm going to bed. Either there will be nightmares or there won't.

There weren't. I was just flying through a line of identical naked statues at their hip level. Polished granite, fifty feet tall, in the streets of Lindblum (from Final Fantasy 9.)

And I'd read Echoes of China earlier that day. In literature, that would be foreshadowing. In reality, it's just coincidence.

Dave went to China and had his heart ripped open and all the pain of the world poured into it. All I had to do to achieve the same effect was read someone's journal.

I didn't know the girl
but I knew her family
All their lives were shattered
in a nightmare of brutality
They try to carry on
try to bear the agony
Try to hold some faith
in the goodness of humanity

...

But she's nobody's
Hero--is the voice of reason
against the howling mob
Hero--is the pride of purpose
in the unrewarding job
Hero--not the champion player
who plays a perfect game
Hero--not the glamor boy
who loves to sell his name
Everybody's buying
NOBODY'S HERO

----Rush, "Nobody's Hero"

jewel... don't feel too bad for me... something had to happen to me sometime....

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