Leben, Lieben, und Hassen – by Orpheus

Woche Zwanzig – fennRis (sechsundzwanzigsten Juni, 2004)

Ich hasse alles. Und jetzt, ah screw the German, I don’t know enough German to write a whole column in it, but I really would like to, and will probably be inserting random phrases auf Deutsch through the whole column. The column will be dealing primarily mit R und mich slipping into the mindset von Fennris von Woche siebzehn. Ich weiß nicht was ist schlecht mit mich, aber etwas ist. Etws, daß ich nicht weiss. Wirklich, ich rate, daß ich weiß. Aber, ich wunsche (might be wünsche, I dunno, but hey, I’ve only taken German 1), daß ich nicht weiß.

Ah, what I wouldn’t give to live in Fennris’s world. Carefree and yet savage, reminding me of how I used to be, back before all this. Before K, before R. Ah, warum kann was ich feel für R nicht like was ich felt für the first J sein. Yeah, I’m switching back and forth between Deutsch und Englisch mit kein warning oder reason. Back to the subject, I mean, at least lust makes sense. At least it’s something that can be explained away with hardly a thought.

Anyway, um, R…Well, unlike most people who, on a regular basis, I want to beat to death or stab with dull knives until they bleed to death, there’s only been two occasions where I wanted to do even the slightest bit of harm to her, and those were both just wanting to reach out and slap her (I didn’t do it on either occasion, mind you).

One of those occasions, and I dare say the worse of the two, was yesterday. I suppose that it was my fault… NO! I’m not gonna let myself think like that, it wasn’t my fault. Okay, um… you know, I really don’t wanna write this… But I will, it’s always better to get this sort of thing off your chest, and I’m sure as hell not gonna talk to her about it, I can’t…I just can’t bring myself to say this kinda thing to her face, that’s why when I told her about, well, y’know, I sent it via e-mail, even though I’d just spoken with her earlier that night.

Anyway, onto what happened… Well, basically, we were having a normal (well, relatively normal) conversation, and I happened to send her a screenshot of a game that takes place downtown in a real city. I commented on how much it looked like the real city, because I’ve been to the city on occasion, though not in a couple years. She said she didn’t know, because she’d never been to the city, but she’d know when Jay came out to visit her for her birthday, because he lives there now apparently, and he was gonna bring some pictures or something.

Now, you see, I don’t know the right word to describe the relation between Jay and R (please note that it is Jay, and not either J). Y’see (keep in mind that this is all from what I’ve heard, I’ve never actually had occasion to meet Jay), apparently before he moved away, he told one of R’s friends that he liked her. He was supposed to ask her to a dance, but he never did. And, as I recall, he was also supposed to take her to the movies once, and backed out of that, too.

All that aside, I’ve been a tad, I dunno, on edge, for the last two days. And really, my wrist feels nice and hollow… a knife would be the perfect way to fill it, me thinks, but then again, I hat the pain that comes with it, and to adapt a quote from the Hobbit, cutting myself ain’t gonna make Jay any less appealing. But then again, a bullet would be the perfect cure for this headache (alas, I lack a gun).

This is Orpheus, signing out for Week 20. Normally, I’d tell you to send me an e-mail at this point, but this time, I really don’t want any. Unless, of course, you have a solution to my problems, in which case, ah fuck that. I know it’s supposed to be Hobbit who says this, but I feel like ending with it this time: shoot me.