F'htagn

Thursday, July 28, 2011

I've been played.

This whole fucking time, He knew where I was, He anticipated it and set up everything so it would end in His fucking FAVOR. I know it.

I wasn't just dropped in the middle of fucking nowhere, oh no. I couldn't have been that lucky. I was left right where he fucking wanted me to, minutes from his mother fucking base.

I was trying to get to Maryland, and I end up in New Jersey.

Fucker.

And to make matters better, I'm being followed. I'm sure it's that same girl who was there when I was in New York. Can't wait to find out which of YOU it is.



I've managed to find a shelter. It isn't too bad here. A little surprised they have any sort of internet connection; maybe I'm just stealing from somewhere else nearby. Who cares.

Food's good. I look clean and decent all things considered. Haven't slept in a couple days, but I'm trying.

I'm alright.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

I'm lost.

I don't know where I am anymore.

Twenty-five dollars wasn't enough.

The driver wouldn't listen to me. No matter how many times I tried to talk to him he wouldn't fucking listen. He only seemed to hear me when it was his turn to speak, and then he would just ignore me.

Twenty-five wasn't enough, he said. It costs more to get to Maryland.

But they said it was twenty-five.

He kicked me out. Said something about fucking cheap homeless people trying to mooch rides off of him.

But I had the money. I wasn't mooching. See, here's the money right here in my hand. He took it anyway. He didn't even take me where I want to go and he fucking thieved my money off of me. I needed that money why doesn't he understand that.

Look how far I've sunk.

I'm sitting on the side of the road somewhere. I don't know what city or what state and whenever I try to ask people where I am or where the nearest shelter is they don't listen to me they just keep walking like I don't exist.

It's so hot out. My skin feels raw even though I'm still wearing my jacket.

My bag feels heavy even though there's nothing inside.

I'm out of food.

Out of water.

I'm sitting in the middle of some city filled with heartless souls and I might as well be sitting in the desert.

I'm half expecting to sit here for hours alone until He shows up, silhouetted by that stupid fucking sun I've grown to hate over these years, when I'm on the verge of death by dehydration or heatstroke or whatever the fuck, and offer me a hand or a tentacle, and I'll find that I have no other choice but to go with him.

If he does show, I might accept.

Quite frankly whatever darkness he'll bring might be welcoming after all this sunlight. He's got me cornered. I'm too tired to resist for much longer.

Until next time. Maybe.

Monday, July 11, 2011

I feel like I've hit a moral low.

I've raided Ray's kitchen for food and taken $25 from her while she's at work. Hopefully she'll never find this blog (I'm surprised she never asked me what I did on my computer all the time) but if she does, hopefully she'll try to understand why I did it. 

Again I find my self in need of a direction. I could go north toward Rochester. I've always wanted to go to Rochester, ever since I received my information packet from RIT. Just because I thought it was beautiful.

Or I could go with my original plan and move south toward Maryland. This honestly is beginning to feel like a bad idea, just because of all I've heard of the FBI and other wacky government agencies getting on peoples' tails. Maryland is just too close to DC and far too much seems to be going on there. 

Philadelphia might be a possibility. But I don't know anyone there and quite frankly that idea scares me a little. 

.....And then there's East. 

I can't go home. Maybe somewhere else. Maybe Rhode Island. Rhode Island is beautiful this time of year. And there are plenty of people.

I guess it depends where the buses are going. All of the buses I've checked don't leave until later this afternoon, so I'll need somewhere to stay until then.

I'm going to the library.



Run fast for your mother, fast for your father
Run fast for your children, for your sisters and brothers
Leave all of your love and your longing behind
You can't carry it with you if you want to survive.

Some parting words for you. Ray loves Florence and the Machine and she's kind-of rubbed off on me. Heh.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

I'm leaving New York. As soon as I possibly can, I'm getting out of here.

I saw something yesterday that scared me. Far too much for me to be comfortable staying with Ray any longer. 

I decided to go downstairs. I felt like I had been in the apartment far too long. I wanted to get some air, since yesterday was such a beautiful day. She lives above a coffee shop, so she gave me a couple dollars to buy something and I sat at a table near the window so I could look outside. Despite the loudness of the city, there was something serene about the whole thing. 

I was about to finish my latte. I looked out.

Across the street there was somebody standing at the curb, just staring at me. I think it was a girl, but it was hard to tell from the distance. She(?) looked like she was dressed normally. Except she was wearing a mask. One of those Venetian 'Carnivale'-type half-masks, covered in sequins and blinding gold trim but still ghostly pale. 

Staring.

I need to leave. I need to leave. I need to leave.

I have to tell Ray.


Tuesday, July 5, 2011

B

Yours has been a long and hard journey. Rest in peace.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Friday, July 1, 2011

A quick update.

I haven't much time to update. 

Trinity: I'm not sure why, but thank you for sticking up for me. I wasn't paying much mind to what he(?) said, but thank you anyway.

I feel as though I've stayed here far too long. Not only are things beginning to feel uneasy again, but I feel that I've outstayed my welcome and am taking Ray's hospitality for granted. She works at Starbucks. There's no way  the money she's making is enough to support me as well as herself, and yet she's been letting me sit here on my own, she's been feeding me, and she hasn't been expecting me to do anything in return. I feel like a freeloader. 

I keep looking out the window as if expecting Him to be there. But we're in an apartment far above the ground. I should be safe. Why don't I feel it?