archive

I very seriously doubt that anyone has utilized this page, but for those who have, be aware that I intend to use this section for something else, in the future. I don't know what yet. I guess you'll just have to wait. Heh...

Date: Wednesday, March 16th, 2005; circa 5:30 P.M. EST
Name: NachtKreuz
Subject: Oh look, there's actually something pretty on my page. >.>;

So, Danielle asked me to scan her senior picture last night, and I thought I'd post it here, too, since Vega hasn't put them up on his site. Anyway, there she is, fineass herself. Moving on, before I say something that could get me in trouble, work really fucking sucks with a migraine. That's right, I about died everytime I stood up, and I had this wonderful idea that maybe, just maybe, I could actually make it through work, without such agonizing pain...Wrong. Wrong. God-damn, what was I thinking? Ah well, I'll live, albeit uncomfortably. It's all good, since it "conveniently" went away, now that I'm off of work. You know, how fortunate that it doesn't hurt, now that I'm not moving around and such. Bleh. Fuck the brain.

Anyway, now onto something that's actually kind of important...Well, not really. I am going to actually be productive. Oh yes...productivity, the very essence of self-improvement. Well, actually I'd have to go with Brad Pitt's view, from "Fight Club". Self-improvement is masturbation. Of course, I never get to make time for that, so that explains why I haven't made much improvement, over the last year or so. o.o; Wait. Why am I talking about this? Oh yeah, my brain is dead. That explains everything, including but not limited to why it no longer hurts. Hmmm...."including but not limited to" Wow, I sound like a goddamned lawyer now. Isn't that marvelous? No, not really? I didn't think so either. You know, I had a point to this whole post thing, but I kind of lost it somewhere between "Date" and the colon following directly afterwards. How sad is that? *ponders* I got something...

I GO RAWR, RAWR LIKE A DUNGEON DRAGON!!!

Okay, okay. I'm done. I've now officially gone insane. That's right. "You had a nice run, Kev. Had to close out sometime. Nobody wins 'em all." Ja ne.

Oh yeah... (10:30 P.M.) And while I'm on the subject. Well, actually I was talking to Slim a few minutes ago, and I happened upon something fucked up. Hitler, an idol of mine, (And no, I'm not a fucking NAZI) was inspired, in part, by Richard Wagner, a classical composer, and he used his music for his personal propaganda against the Jews. Now, I'm not sure if he ever used "Ride of the Valkyries", but you know, either way I'll never be able to look at it the same way. There once was a time when hearing that song made me want to invade Poland (Not really, I'm really paraphrasing Churchhill, but still...) but now all I get is Elmer Fudd, running after Bugs, wearing that goddamned Valkyrie hat, screaming "Kill the Wabbit!" o.O;

To this:

Date: Wednesday, March 23rd, 2005; circa 9:00 P.M.
Name: Nachtkreuz
Subject: My birthday is going to suck.

        So, yeah, as the subject implies, my birthday is going to suck. Oh yeah. I have to be the only person who turns twenty-one on Easter, fucking Sunday. That's right, the only day that the ABC store isn't open. What the fuck is that? First of all, and I'm sorry if it offends anyone, but fuck Jesus. I'm not Christian, so he didn't do shit for me. Secondly, I don't even celebrate the damned holiday. I personally don't care if he arose from the dead and all that garbage. It was over two-thousand years ago, so whatever. Aside from that, I generally don't even celebrate my birthday. Who cares? So what, I'm a whole three hundred and sixty-five and one fourth days older. Yay me. Of course, it would be my luck that the only birthday I have any interest in celebrating would be a Sunday...an Easter Sunday. Lastly, you know what...I forget. Anyway, I actually made a new wallpaper. w00t! That's right. Get some of that l33tsp34k up in ya. Man, fuck those people who type like that, and fuck *thinks of a random person* Steven Tyler. Yeah, fuck him. Him and his big DSLs. Anyway, I'm going to go ahead and say it. I'm not a NAZI, okay? Don't e-mail me or whatever, just because I made some NAZI wallpaper. I think it's fucking gorgeous. o.O; Speaking of gorgeous, I wonder if Danielle is actually going to get online, because really that's why I'm here, updating this page. I don't have anything to say and the conversation between Vega and I died. Oh, and I'm listening to Mozart. >.>; Fuck yeah. I'm bored. Anyway, I usually delete my last entries or whatever, but this time I'm just going to do a couple revisions, because I can. Yeah. I thought they were pretty good, especially the most recent one, save a few phrases that fuck with my metaphor.

         [Revised] A very wise young lady once said to me "When you make a wish upon a star, be sure to wish upon one of the small ones. So many people are fixated on the bigger things in life, that they overlook the things that really matter..." To be honest, not a single night has passed that I haven't gone out and looked up at the stars. I've grown so accustomed to it that they just seem to gaze back at me, making their own wishes. I can't say that anything I've ever wished for has come true, nor can I say that my prayers are answered, but I trudge onward, reaching out to them, nonetheless. But why? Hope, I suppose. Or perhaps because I can continue making the wishes of other's come true. Afterall, I've never done anything of merit, so wouldn't I be that dim star, in the night sky, that someone whom has lost their faith can reach out to and wish upon? I know Ashley asked me, not so long ago, if I thought it was my time to be happy. I do, but my wishes have yet to be granted, and my prayers remain unanswered. I try to comfort myself, looking for the lessons in everything, just hoping that when I finally learn them, I'll be granted my happiness. In the face of such delusion, I've become the person I've always wanted to be, but it never comes as a surprise when I realize that I still hate myself. I consider myself a grave failure, in all honesty. It isn't because I'm not happy with myself, but rather because a person who doesn't follow his/her dream is just an empty shell. I've grown weary of walking away from everything, and simply washing my hands of the things that bother me. I've spent far too long, gazing up at the sky and waiting. I see now, in this moment, what she was telling me. It isn't about wishing, afterall. It's about that dim star, lost in the light of the brighter ones. I see now that despite all odds, that dim, little star's light still cascades upon the face of whomever is gazing upwards. It has indeed gone unnoticed, but it continues to shine, just hoping and praying that the one destined to wish upon it sees it in the night sky and utters those two simple words "I wish...". So, what is my dream? What is it that brings me true happiness? The happiness of another. That smile on their face when I've given them something than no one else could or would. A portion of my dream is pieced together each and everytime I'm there for my friends, but I haven't done anything that no one else could do. I've simply been that dim, little star, among those brighter ones. I've just sat idly and waited for those two little words. I haven't even pursued my dream. It is always within reach, but I never reach outward. I just gaze up, into the night, wasting my time with frivolous wishes and prayers, when I could make things happen myself. I've allowed myself to be happy with the portions of my dream that I recieve when I hear the words "Thank you." That does make me happy, but it is only transient. It just fades away, and leaves me as I was. In the end, it only serves as my hope. My hope that one day, the rest of my dream will be there. I guess what I'm trying to get at is no matter how many people I make smile, it will never be the same as the way Chasity would smile when I leaned over and whispered something sweet in her ear, or how she would smile at me when she woke up from a nightmare to find me at her side. I used to just sit there and watch her sleep, waiting to take her hand and wake her when she had one. I want that again. I was so close to happiness, and it was stolen from me. I don't want that from her, though. She and I will never be what we were, and I'm okay with that. I learned my lessons and have moved on. I just want what we had. I want to fill that void that she once filled. That is my dream...having that special someone that I can make happy. My dream has never really been about me. I just want someone to look up and pick me out from among all those brighter stars and say "I wish...". I'm actually trying, this time. I heard someone say those two magickal words, and I'm just waiting for her to see my light on her beautiful face. I can do nothing more than shine as brightly as I can and hope that it is enough to separate me from the brighter stars in the sky.

        Yes, I suppose it is a bit sentimental, but I was just thinking about it and thought I would share. It's a rather extended metaphor, but I'm certain it is easily followed. Oh yeah, and for those of you who that seem to like searching through my posts to find a mistake, "magickal" was intended. That's how it is used in Wicca. The K adds a certain numerological value to the word. The written word is a truly powerful tool. Ja ne.

Date: Friday, April 1st, 2005; circa 4:30 PM
Name: Nachtkreuz
Subject: Kawaii desu, ne!?

So, yeah, I had said to Danielle, when we were at Hot Topic, that I was going to draw a gothic Tinkerbell. I figure since everyone thinks she's all cool and such, but just isn't my type, I'd make her my type. Cute, right? Anyway, I spent, like, half an hour drawing it, and let me tell you, it's hard as hell to simplify my usual artistic style enough to draw Disney characters. ~_~; I was going to do fishnet, but I didn't feel like it, so she got those pink and black stockings instead. Yeah, I'm lazy. Heh. Speaking of which, that would explain the lack of shadowing and everything that would normally be present. Now, it seems to have lost a bit of it's detail, due to the resize, so you can click here to see it's actual resolution. Ja ne.

Date: Sunday, April 3rd, 2005; circa 3:00 PM EST
Name: Nachtkreuz
Subject: Sitting within one's self

This week has been incredibly atrocious, save for last night, or the latter part of it, at least. It has had it's positive moments, I suppose, but overall it's been quite miserable. By this point, I shouldn't have to state the obvious and say that work sucked a mean dick, so I'll just skip over all that and move on to Friday. Seeing as how it was Friday and everything, there was of course a party. Imagine that. Well, for months now, I've just been letting the disrespect and lack of courtesy go, but there comes a time when a person just can't contain something any longer. I'm an incredibly peaceful person, but it wasn't always that way. I've made great strides to become who I am now. Well, I won't go into the details of it all, because I'm not exactly proud of my behavior. Granted, my actions were probably warranted, I'm certain that things could've been handled in a more subtle manner. To make a long story short, I flipped out and pretty much got at everyone who got in my way. I kicked a lot of people out and probably did some things that weren't necessary. I'm not going to apologize for it, though. I'm not sorry, and I don't regret my actions. If people had any amount of respect for others it wouldn't have happened. I'm not putting up with that garbage any longer. So, if I'm not proud of it, why not apologize? To be quite honest, the only reason it bothers me is because, in that moment, I saw the one thing that I detest more than anything else. I saw the me that I left behind. I don't want to be that person anymore. Now, onto Saturday, the day I've been waiting for, since I asked Danielle if I could take her out. Wouldn't it figure that her car would fuck up that morning? Of course. Don't get me wrong, I still got to go out with her. It was far from what I had in mind, but I did enjoy myself. Very much so, actually. (Arigatou Gozimasu ^.^; ) I swear, though. The moment I walked back into this house, that went to hell. No one actually did anything. It's just that everything is just so negative. I couldn't help but be depressed. I realized something about this little clique, though. What is that? That there isn't one. I sat up at I.H.O.P. (The international house of over-pricing and/or the international house of obvious procrastinators, in Cory's case, since it took an hour to get a baked potato.) for almost three hours or so, and had the best time I've had in a while, with a bunch of people I didn't even know. This little so-called clique couldn't do that. We couldn't just sit down, without beer and/or liquor and chill. We can't do that, and if we could, I can almost guarantee that there would be some drama. Someone beefing with someone else or someone starting shit. Hell, most of us wouldn't even show up. Someone would probably ditch out on us to do something else. Essentially, what I'm getting at is I'm sick of the drama, the BS and the other garbage within this so-called clique. When I first started hanging out with everyone I was honestly in awe at how close-knit everyone seemed to be. It's nothing like that, though. So, it's time to start keeping my circle small. I'm not leaving the group or anything, but some of you just need to stay the fuck away from me, until you can act right. My house is now V.I.P. only, so if you aren't on my list, fuck off.
Now, onto Sunday. Well, technically, this is the beginning of a different week, but whatever. So far, it has been pretty nice. I went for a nice, little, two and a half hour walk, and that's where my subject comes into play. My depressed state hadn't left by the time I got up, so I decided to spend some time by myself. I just went walking wherever my feet decided to take me. Initially, I was just going to go sit in the cemetary, as usual, but I swear the moment I looked around and realized that I was alone and in silence some faggots had to ride in on their D.U.I. mobile and ask if I was all right. Why is it that a person has to be in mourning when they're in a cemetary? Can't a person just go? I happen to find it quite peaceful, and just walking in seems to calm me down. Besides, no one around here tends to the graves, so I go around and fix the flowers and such, should I pass any that have been overturned or what-have-you. Anyway, I digress, after they disturbed my silence, I decided that I wasn't really accomplishing much, just sitting there. Sure, I was at peace, but my mind wasn't exactly set on what was bothering me. I did, however, realize that I was sitting within myself. I know, it doesn't seem to make much sense, but think about it. I was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the dead. Maybe it's because none of you have known me very long, but it makes a lot of sense. It may sound a bit morbid, but I am dead. Not literally, of course, but emotionally. Certainly it sounds depressing, but I'm not depressed. It's more like if an emotion causes me grief, I just seal it away, until it dies. Perhaps, I can't explain it as well as I would like. Whatever. So, back to my point. Angel and I were talking, and no, we weren't trying to hook up, because I know that was going around a bit, Friday night. I have someone else in mind. Heh. Nonetheless, she said something to me, that kind of stuck in my head, and I was trying to sort that out. I finally figured it out, so it's all good. She's probably right about it, though. Her and Kyle. I just get this feeling that I should've listened to him sooner, and saved myself a bit of grief. Of course, in these matters, the only certainty is that nothing is certain. Peace.

Date: Monday, April 4th, 2005; circa 5:30 PM EST
Name: Nachtkreuz
Subject: "I felt like putting a bullet between the eyes of every panda that wouldn't screw to save its species. I wanted to open the dump-valves on oil tankers and smother all those French beaches I would never
see. I wanted to breathe smoke...I wanted to destroy something beautiful."

There really isn't a point to the subject line. At least not one I wish to digress. So, I'm sitting here, listening to My Chemical Romance, Morbid Angel and Bleeding Through...just thinking about a few things. Just whatever comes to mind, you know? I feel naked, though. Why? I removed that accursed ring, and sealed it away with the rest of the garbage that my sentimental side wishes to keep around. I was going to wait until I found someone worth taking it off for, but I couldn't stand to see it on my finger, any longer. I guess I've broken my promise...
I really don't care anymore, though. Fuck her. I've become so apathetic lately. I'm not sure why. *shrug* Robert noticed it, last night, but only a portion of it. Yeah, I have become rather apathetic about it. That along with everything else. It's rather discouraging, to be honest.
Anyway, Orgy is coming out with a new CD, and if it kicks as much ass as Punk Statik Paranoia, I'm going to get that, the day it's available. Speaking of which, I know I told Wes, and maybe Kyle, but I'm letting my hair grow back out. It won't be anywhere close to as long as it was. I don't think I can handle two and a half foot of it again, but I decided a while back that I wanted it to be kind of punkish. Something like Jay Gordon or Paige Haley's. Not the porn star, the Bass player of Orgy. Goddamn, I swear to Astarte that nothing about that band cannot be related to porn. >.<; I'm sure all of like three people know what or who in the hell I'm talking about, so here are a couple of pictures I ripped from "Fiction (Dreams in Digital)". Heiwa. (Peace.)

Paige Haley - Bassist

Jay Gordon - Vocalist

Date: Wednesday, April 5th, 2005; circa 4:00 AM EST
Name: Nachtkreuz
Subject: I am not your savior. I'm just as fucked as you.

So, yeah, I posted yesterday, but I didn't feel like shifting everything around, so I'm just going to replace it. It wasn't really anything important, anyway. So, I've made a decision. It's something I've been thinking about for the last two or three years. I've done everything that I can to avoid it. Everything from meditation to placing myself on that "black couch". I'm not really going to get into the details of it all, though. It's rather ironic that just last weekend, Angel was telling me how I could be a great therapist. (I'll take The Rapist for a hundred, Alex.) I've always kind of had a gift for listening and being empathic, but I can't be here for myself. A person can always solve someone else's problems, but can never really rid themselves of their own. In lieu of such, I'm recanting my statement that I don't need "some jackass, in a tie, to tell me what's wrong with me." I decided when I woke up, this morning, that I have a problem. I found myself just sitting idly, listening to music and smoking, as I stared at my walls, last night. I knew what was coming, and I made no effort to avoid it. I suppose I knew I needed the release. I feel much better, at the moment. My depression has subsided, but one can only break down so many times and look away. Essentially, what I'm getting at is, it's time for that black couch. I concede. As soon as my financial matters are taken care of and work picks back up, I'm going to acquire the services of a therapist. For a while, now, I attributed it to social change, stress or what-have-you, just thinking that maybe if I could get beyond it I'd be fine. Of course, I've come to realize that even when I don't have a real reason to be depressed, like lately, that I still am, and it isn't healthy. It strikes me as a problem, which is in dire need of correction. Of course, I can't just up and go to therapy, given the circumstances, so I'm just going to deal with it, on my own, until I can. Who knows? Maybe I'll finally make some progress and another party won't be necessary. As it stands, though, a black couch is definately in my future.Watashi wa saiko desu ka? ~Heiwa.

Date: Friday, April 8th, 2005; circa 5:00 PM EST
Name: Nachtkreuz
Subject: "The Earth was blue, but there was no God."

So, yeah, the subject line is rather irrelevant, but when I heard it, it kind of stuck in my head. For those of you that don't know from whence it came, it was coined by the Soviets, during the first manned-flight to space. And before anyone even attempts to correct me, America is responsible for the first manned landing on the moon, but we didn't get into space first. Heh. Moving on, things have felt as though they were merely some sort of phantasmagoric series of dreams. I feel like I've been asleep, since I had that breakdown, Tuesday night. I'm not quite sure what it is. All has been calm, and I've managed to find that peace, about myself, that I once retained. Beyond all of that, I've been rather content. My mind is at ease, and everything has been running smoothly. In fact, things are going quite well. I'm even up for a raise. *boggle* I'm not sure why. All I know is that Mike, my assistant supervisor, came up to me today and said that he put in to get me a raise. He didn't say how much of a raise, nor when I would be recieving it, but it has already been passed by one of the higher-ups. *shrug* Kick ass.
So, it's all of a sudden Friday. When the fuck did that happen, anyway? Yeah, I know...after Thursday, but I mean, where did it all go? It seems like it's only Wednesday, at the latest. Hmmm, suits me fine, I suppose. At least I don't have to be at work, until Monday. Ooo, optimism. o.O; That's a plesant change. I'm kind of tripping at how things have become. It isn't exactly normal to go from having a mental breakdown to being completely content, even when thinking about the things, which most likely attributed to the said breakdown. I'm going to chalk it up to faith. That's right. Me, faith. You don't hear that one very often. Ironic, I speak of such a thing with the subject of this post being what it is. That's okay. I don't believe in God, anyway. At least not that one. >.>; So, I'm sitting here, listening to Placebo. Yeah, yeah. Who the fuck are they? Well, the did do that one song from Cruel Intentions, back in the day. Beyond that, I don't know much about them myself. All I know, is a few years ago, Kyle (Not Slim. This dude I know in Michigan) sent me a song, and I kind of kept it around, without listening to much of their other songs. Of course, now, I'm listening to a lot of it. I guess it's as Cold says "And music was just your way to bleed." Come to think of it, I've been listening to a lot of punk rock lately. Good Charlotte, Placebo, SR-71, Orgy, (What's new?) A Newfound Glory, et cetera. I don't even really like punk. Heh. Whatever the fuck ever, I guess. Heiwa!

Date: Sunday, April 10th, 2005; circa 7:30 PM EST
Name: NachtKreuz
Subject: "Wake up, and face me. Don't play dead, 'cause maybe, someday, I will walk away and say 'You disappoint me. Maybe you're better off this way.'"

So, I had a different post up here, earlier, and then I realized that I was pretty much wasting space. *shrug* In lieu of such, I'm going to find a better way to waste it and just yell "I'M GOING TO THE BLACK LABEL SOCIETY CONCERT, THURSDAY!" See, much more productive, don't you think? Yeah, at least that's the plan. Of course, being my luck my friend's car will explode or something. You know how it is. Bleh. Can't say that hasn't happened recently, when I was looking forward to something, so yeah. That's pretty much it. Heiwa.

Date: Monday, April 11th, 2005; circa 9:00 PM
Name: DelaCroix
Subject: "I envy your demise. I hope it's all your dreamed it would be. One bullet in this gun...not sure if it's meant for you or me."

So, apparently, I've been using quotes and lyrics for subject lines, lately. Not sure what's up with that, but it's all good. Gasolina, Steve. Anyway, if you didn't notice, I'm using my alternate pseudonym, today. What does this mean? Just that I felt like it. Parle vous la Fran�ais? Non? C'est trop mauvais. Oui? *ahem* Yeah, too much Placebo for me. Ja deteste la Fran�ais. Anywho, I just felt like using it instead. So, yeah, for those of you who don't spend a lot of time (Like myself) looking at languages, DelaCroix means "of the Cross". See, it makes sense. It's actually a sirname, but has since become "Delcroix", because apparently the French like to drop letters and make things sound "pretty". Now, I'd like to note that in my personal opinion, nothing sounds "prettier" than hacking up a lung when pronouncing an r, but maybe it's just me. O.o? *notes sarcasm* The language of love my ass. C'est merde! Wow, I remember more French than I thought, and all because some jackass decided to translate Treasures of the Rudras to French, before English. Thank you Japanese RPGs. Kind of makes you want to watch The Brotherhood of the Wolf, ne? Great movie, even if it is entirely in French. ^.^; So, whilst I'm on the subject I'd like to say Dirk, tu as une plus petit noeud! Take a guess what that means. Mwahahaha! >.>;
I actually have a point to all of this. Prot�gez-moi contre ce que je veux. (Protect me from what I want.) Yeah, and what does that fucking mean? Well, firstly "Prot�ge moi" is the aforementioned Placebo song, I was talking about; and secondly, most of you should know what I'm saying, so I'm not going to explain it. Heh. If you don't, then you can ask and I'll tell you. I just don't feel like typing it out, because I'm lazy. Good enough for you? Better be. So, now that I'm finished with all of this French ranting, let's move on to current events. ...........Yeah, that's all for that. Informative, ne? Yeah, I know. I have no life. Same old shit, different day, as they say. Eh, fuck this. I'm going to play a game or something, since I actually have some time to myself, for a change. So, I leave you with this. In the famous words of the pseudo-Sean Connery (Pseudo is Greek for false or fake...) What's the difference between you and a mallard with a cold? One's a sick duck...and I don't remember how it ends, but your mother's a whore. GATHSOLINA, STHEVE!

~J'ai trop d'heure sur mes mains...*sigh* C'est la vie.

Date: Monday, April 18th, 2005; circa 8:00 PM EST
Name: DelaCroix
Subject: "It's fifty miles to Chicago. We have a half a pack of cigarettes, a quarter tank of gas, it's dark and we're wearing sunglasses. Hit it."

Fuck yeah. I want to see that movie again. (The Blues Brothers.) It's a cult classic, I swear. Anyway, so I just finished reading Vega's post on apathy. Now, at this point, I'm sure someone is expecting (Wow, I say that like more than two people actually come here.) me to disagree. Wrong. Wrong. I happen to agree whole-heartedly. 'Tis a cancer, indeed. Oh, and for the record, I was thinking it was directed towards me. *shrug* I'm not going to lie about it. Apathy is escapism. Something I happen to be incredibly adept at. I build my walls, shy away and fill my head with senseless excuses as to why I shouldn't do/say anything. I say "I don't care" or "I don't give a fuck" and simply walk away, washing my hands of whatever bothers me. Right now, there is someone, whom I care about, that isn't willing to risk our friendship. That's my understanding, at least. I understand this, but it's honestly something I see as being worth the risk. So, what am I going to do about it? Probably nothing. Just let it go and look back, sometime down the road, regret not putting forth the effort and force myself to shrug it off.
(Prot�ge moi, Astarte...) Well, if I know I'll regret it, why allow myself to travel down that path? I could say I don't give a fuck, but that isn't true. I honestly don't know. I've spent so much time in my little box that it has become second nature to flee there, when things may not go the way I'd prefer them to. It's a defense mechanism, I suppose one could say. If it hurts, pull away. It isn't something I'm proud of, really. I try to fight it, but I've been down that path so many times, that I just catch myself wandering down it again and again. I don't want to go back. The best things in life are worth fighting for...aren't they? So, I'm a coward? Yeah. At least I think so. Of all the things I've overcome, over the past four-five years, I just can't seem to rise above it. Not alone, anyway. I got out, once before and I swore I would never go back and hide behind my walls. I guess a man can't always keep his word, ne? So, what does being alone have to do with my escapism? Well, there was a time when I escaped those decrepit walls; and much to the dismay of myself, I have Chasity to thank for that. I honestly have no real desire to come out, for myself. I can't find the empathy to escape and meet face to face with the things that hurt. I don't have anyone to face them with, and I fear I can't face such things alone. (Goddamn, I'm too sentimental, sometimes.) At this point, I'm seriously tempted to sugar-coat things a bit, but what good is a response, if it isn't an honest one? I'm certain that no one is under the impression that I like myself. I don't, and I've never even attempted to hide it. I see no real reason to, in all honesty, and that is the main reason why. Now, as far as using apathy as an excuse, I don't do that. At least I try not to. I know I did that one night when you (Vega) asked me if I was upset with Danielle. "Whatever the fuck ever, man. I don't really care anymore." Yeah, I just didn't want to say what was on my mind at the time. I'm not going to lie about it, hence why I made an excuse. I don't like to lie, but I didn't want to explain myself, so it seemed like the appropriate C.O.A. (Course of action, for those of you who aren't so great with abbreviations.) Some of these people, I have to say, do it far too often. Yeah, I don't have the right to really say that, as I'm guilty too. (WOOOOO! Guilty!) Of course, like I said, it has become a second nature of mine, but I've noticed that some people in the group use it consciously, the majority of the time. It kind of pisses me off, in a way. I've spent almost everyday, outside thinking and trying to fight it, (Hmmm, wonder what was on my mind. Heh.) while these people are embracing it. It has costed me greatly. Probably in more ways than I could ever fathom. I'm weary of it, and I hope for their sakes, that when they realize the potential losses, it isn't too late
~In loving memory of many goals and many a dream...~

Date: Tuesday, Mar 3rd, 2005; circa 11:30 AM EST
Name: NachtKreuz
Subject: "Mein herz ist schwer. Ich bin so leer. Ich will mehr von dir. Mehr...mehr von allem."

Before I even get started...yes, Robert, I scanned your pictures. Even though I haven't updated in a while, there isn't really anything to say. I'd like to design a new layout or something, but it probably isn't going to happen. At least not anytime soon. I have, however, decided to continue my pursuit of various studies. I haven't really focused on anything, in a while, and it would be nice to pick up writing and/or drawing again. Maybe a language. That or something as simple as learning something new, everyday. I swear my IQ has dropped, since I'm not putting my mind to use. I've been letting my talents go to waste, due to my lack of ambition. I have a few things to take care before I can focus the entirety of my attention on such things, though. I need to find myself. Yeah, that's a pretty common statement, but what does it mean? You always hear it but never really gets an explaination. Well, over the past few years, whilst changing my perception of things and becoming the person you all know, I lost sight of who I am. I've spent so much energy on change that I let it consume me. I don't even remember what I like. For example...When asked my favourite colour, I make it a point to be proper and state that black isn't a color. That's all well and good, but when asked my favourite colour, aside from black, I haven't the faintest idea. I'll probably say red, but I really don't even care for red. The sad truth is that even my "religion"
(I use that term very, very loosely, mind you.) has suffered because of it. It has become so ecclectic, in order to encompass the things I've changed, that it no longer has any structure. If it weren't an integral part of my existence, I wouldn't mind the lack of order. After all order and chaos are two sides of the same coin, but something of such importance needs to be well-defined. It has gone from a fairly straight-forward path to simply doing whatever. Aside from all that, nothing is really going on. I'm apparently engaged to Lucretia. o.O; (Not really, for those of you that believe everything you read or hear. Heh.) So, yeah, that and I'm going to the Wizard Saturday to see Venacava play. That should prove interesting enough. Hmmm, what else is there? David sucks a mean dick, for reasons I'm not going into, and Jesse's a cunt, just because I feel like saying that. Damn, how uneventful my life is. Ah well, guess it cannot be helped. C'est la vie. Ja ne.

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