I know that there was something - some kind of purpose - to these dreams I'd had for the past few weeks. A town, somewhere along the shore that called to me like a ghost of a memory I once had.

It was of course of a friend whom I knew and played with as a child. It was of course of a friend, whom I knew, had died. It was the night that showed me his face for multiple times and it is the night that I blame for my unwillingness to sleep. And the thought of it all is absurd.

I asked a friend to drive me there, that little town, for the weekend.

It hadn't changed much, not from what I remember of it. There was also that same smell, probably the smell of the smokestacks of the factories or the fish market - at best a mixture of both. But that wasn't the destination I had in mind.

What I thought of was the lighthouse. Burned by the accidental fire that later killed my friend. It was rebuilt - of course it would - built all shiny and new. It was insulting in a way and I wished for this contraption to collapse.

"What are you looking for?" she said to me. For the past minute or so, I'd done nothing but stare at this damned lighthouse - seeing...remembering the charred remains that took him from me. "Fae. Fae!"

I closed my eyes for only a moment, feeling a wave of dizziness rack my brain. Then there was his face and then a scream - and in my groggy state, I couldn't tell whether that scream was real. All that I know was that it echoed in the blackness and I was out like a light.



I woke in a cold sweat. My clothes damp and restricting. But amidst this I knew what he wanted me to do - what I repressed because of the fire.

I wasn't in a hospital of any sort, just the first aid room in the lighthouse. I rose to my feet feeling the previous drowsiness and heaviness melt away due to the adrenaline rush of realization.

I failed once. Failed to be there for him lost in my grief that later resulted in my moving away. And what I left behind was the only light he left in that tragedy.

Bursting past the doors and ignoring the concerned cries of my friend hurrying behind me, I jumped down to the shore, the sand softening the impact. It was all too familiar because we'd walked here many times, too many times that we gave every sea-creature and stand-alone rock a name. But I had forgotten those now and they too had moved on with the deliberate passage of time.

And there it was - the hollow in the rock as I remembered it which I struck with another sharper rock in order to loosen it. Once done, I took the cover of the hollow and brushed the sand off the cool surface of the lunch-box I predicted was there. My friend had appeared at my side by the time I had this rusted box in my hands.

My heart beat frantically, the face of the boy and his voice clear in my mind, as I opened the box to find a few keepsakes and a scrap of stationary. Among the keepsakes were old toys and baubles, items I remembered that we found or salvaged, giving each and every one of them a significant meaning that only a child can grant. I'd forgot about that too and I despised that fact that he - having haunted my dreams for who knows how long - wouldn't just remind me instead of me having to dig deep through my memories of the days I didn't want to remember.

I then took the paper, unfolding it to reveal his handwriting and a poem that struck a chord in my strained heart-

i dreamt of a town
and a face with a frown
and -would you guess-
his face wasn't all too pleasant

i couldn't see
what was to become of me
of the hellfire-like emotions
slowly consuming me

if this is to be
what i shall leave
as the last proof
to prove my sanity

then - so be it

and so my friend in the dark
i bid you good night
and weep for your loneliness
because it's all too clear why you appear to me and me only

we are the same
too much alike
too hauntingly alike
that i'd rather never see you again...

I lowered the letter to my lap, letting whatever tear fall where they may. The boy was laughing at me now. Laughing a terrible laugh that echoed like a never-ending spiral over and over and over...

Closing my ears against this broken-record of laughter, the paper blew into the wind, landing and eventually submerging into the watery deep lost for eternity.

So it's finally over.

Even though school ended a couple of hours ago, I've been sitting here stewing over plot ideas and thinking about absolutely nothing while listening to music...also I have to mention that it's terribly stuffy and hot (and it'll get even more horrible later on in the summer).

I don't know how I did this year. All I now is that it would probably be best if there was that non-existant reset button at the ready. But I can't do that because then that'll mean that everything I'd have written because of my troubles and everything that I've read would be erased. Also, what I changed about my room would disappear and I'd also have to relive getting these damn braces. Dammit all. :) But I mean this in a good way. So things haven't been well. So things are ruined and they should stay that way right? Maybe. Maybe not. Depends on what I do further on.

All I know is that I'm a year from graduation and the happy face I saw dancing around in sixth period today shouting that it was "one more year till we go into the real world" I couldn't have felt more worried. Then I realized that if I thought about it too long I would never get my essay done on time (but I did finish it and got to writing bits of the next chapter).

I don't want to dwell on the future because it doesn't exist yet and I also don't want to go all paranoid and try to avoid it in some way like Holden Caulfield (Catcher in the Rye).

I'm rambling but I'm feeling slightly more focused now that this is out of the way. So, here's a random cat picture...

(that up there is the actual coat of arms for the place I'll be borrowing for the later parts of the story when we finally get to set foot on Russian soil - I'll probably use this or just make my own from it so there's no legal stuff (if I have time)) So click for the - surprisingly - fast upload for the time being ( or I thought it was).

Holy hell I got a chapter done. And the weekend is looking up.

Yesterday, because of the day before, my frustrations simmered to a low boil (and it was a chance for everyone to see my little friend there who is both good and bad - in the fictional sense) and I got one of those year-end essays done. Now with one more to go I'm going to finish that right now... :|

so what do you do when you're uninspired and bogged with end of year essays? write in small letters and procrastinate (obviously because you are to lazy to use the shift key every time you start a new sentence)...

think p o s i t i v e.

...yeah, I have no thoughts to document.

Ch. 1 is up! :]

Man. I write long chapters...

I never got to post this - so here it is... A poem I think from sometime in June?


i dreamed a dream where everything had gone away and they didn't say good-bye. all that was left was a cold-hearted spinster of a woman who refused to look the other way.

they all said good-bye
they all bade farewell
but the cruel old woman didn't spare a passing glance
and continued her way

i dreamed a dream where everything disappeared and left behind an outline of dust. all that was left was a cold surface and the dust that surrounded the objects that didn't last for forever as i had imagined.

they all said good-bye
they all bade farewell
but the cruel old woman didn't spare a passing glance
and continued her way

i dreamed a dream where everything crumbled to dust and blew away in the wind. all that was left was the residue on the hands that held it all, clutched at it till forever crumbled along with it. all that was left was a defenseless cold heart more vulnerable than i ever wanted it to be.

they all said good-bye
she bade farewell

they bade farewell
she said good-bye

she then stared straight at her cruel old self
but the cruel old woman didn't spare a passing glance
and continued her way

i dreamed a dream where i cried for myself for being too much like that cruel old woman - that stubborn stoic independent woman who's also bitter and despondent - if i let go of those dear to me.

we all said good-bye
we all bade farewell
unconsciously to the cruel old woman
and we continued our way

and all that was left was a path of light for the cruel old woman to follow, a light that reached into the heavens and she refused to look the other way.

Not feeling any better today...feels as if my heads about to explode. :|

Think happy thoughts
to pave the path of a fitful sleep
Dream the dreams that a child makes
to rekindle the light
at the end of the tunnel

Honestly, I'm dead tired. Yesterday I took a nap in the afternoon and didn't wake till an hour before midnight. And I don't mean just wake up and go back to sleep but I was WIDE AWAKE. Holy spitfire seahorse on a chicken wing... *shakes head* Wait a minute there's nothing holy about that! [/end lameness]

So I ended up staying up till 5: 30 or 40 AM before I could sleep...for one hour. During that time however I listened to music, typed up some Year Zero related stuff and read some chapters of The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald (I ended up finishing it today and it wasn't that bad :D It isn't boring like some classmates of mine said >_>)

Oh. I finally stood up for myself for once in English class. God. I have a normal English class (b/c I used to have Honors English in the past or, if you want to take it a step higher, would have gotten to AP if I wanted) and I question how my teacher can bear with some of the students in that class on a daily basis because if you stay there too long, it just turns into a madhouse full of children and you too go mad. Exaggeration? Maybe, maybe not. It could also be my exhaustion talking but I really meant what I said. :)

But yes. We were supposed to answer some questions for the assigned chapters in Gatsby (which I finished in time the period before. As mentioned earlier, I read ahead so I asked for the questions that we were supposed to get tomorrow) and I was asked whether they (the person behind me) "could see the questions." All right. I'm a nice person and I didn't know what to say anyways since I was focused on something else. So I give the paper, she looks at it. Asks me to point out a couple of words that she can't decipher (because my writing is a mixture of cursive and print on a right-slant I'll have to post a sample some day) until she finally gives up.

"Can I see your paper?" she asks another student.
'Why? Isn't that it there?" they reply.
"Yeah but I can't read this s***!" She hands me the paper. "Here you go, thank you."

I thought: Your welcome... Not.

Minutes later, another person asked for the same paper (who happened to sit next to the one behind me. Yes, they were friends) and I said something along the lines of, "No because you won't learn anything that way. Sorry."
She asks, "Why didn't you say that earlier?"
"Because I just thought of it."
'Wait. What did she say?" says the one behind me.
And so she repeats what I said and they laugh.

Now my thoughts on this were: Can you be anymore immature? At least I'm honest.

In the sense that I don't talk behind other people's backs and curse at teachers for "bein' stupid." I hear too many things in that class that is beyond stupidity and immature that its insulting. I know teenagers can be smarter than this. But this...this is the stereotypical teen you see in those adult-oriented movies with crude humor. And I've asked myself in that class what the world later on is going to be like when it's these same people who're going to vote and have families. :| But I'm getting ahead of myself. Like in the novel: