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Tonight's been...awful. I'm relieved now, but it's really been too scary. My parents are on a camping trip this weekend. And Nicholas is still here. Because he has a rugby game this weekend. He had a bunch of friends over. And a lot of booze. Started throwing up a lot...after nearly half an hour of that, his friends got me from my room. That was around 10-ish. He threw up everywhere, and got himself into bed. His friends were calm at first...before his best friend started panicking, because it was making him flash back to how said friend had to be revived twice in one night, after mixing cold medicine and excessive amounts of alcohol. His friends start freaking, the girls start crying. I get them out of my house.

And start crying a little. I pull myself together and go back to his room, where I had been while they argued and freaked out. And took a seat. I stayed there, to make sure he didn't roll onto his back, and to listen to his breathing. After two hours, he puked a little in his sleep, and shook (from cold, as I found out, but he still shook). So I called 911, and panicked. Then sent me to 811. So I called, and panicked. They sent me to poison control. So I called, and they were busy, and kept at it. Eventually I reach them...and after talking through everything, she tells me he'll be okay, and the threat of a coma has past, since it had been around 3 hours since his last drink.

Here I am, an hour and a bit after that. I don't plan on sleeping...because I can't. I need...to keep checking on him every now and then, or I go crazy with guilt and concern.

Today

Was really good. Like, amazing.

And it also gave me some new insight, into myself.

Thanks, Alex, for everything. It's weird that I never...saw it. And I'm glad we could talk. So...Francis-plans. Much of them. Perhaps, even, Charlotte. I think it may yet be grand if we might...sup, and watch...Daria?

I'd love for the four of us to hang out. Or even without her - it's been way too long without you guys.

And that goes just as much for you, Ken - I keep missing the parties we're gonna hang out at. So plans should happen.

That's about it. I'm in a pensive place...but it's also a good place.

Too Long

It's been too long. I'm having abit of a panic attack right now. Trying to...talk myself away from it.  It's not working very well. I can't hear the news, any more. I can't...live in society, any more. I have to be alone, or alone, with someone, far, far away. From everything. Antarctica. Somewhere, where I can escape the world, and the world will forget I am. I can't do this. I can't do this. I just curled up, and to keep from weeping with fear. I'm too scared.

I don't know what to do. I'm shaking. Alex. Ken. I love you both. I. I can't deal with this big a world. I'm going to be sick, on my bed. Goddamnit Yahoo! I'm changing my e-mail provider, I can't do this anymore. At the very least, I can fix that.

I need my theatre back. I need my world back. The small world I lived in, that hides between Atwater, Demaisonneuve, Sherbrooke, and that other street. And the world of every theatre I worked in...where the world outside doesn't exist. Where I live as someone else. Where my circadian rhythm goes to die, for the length of a run. I need to be in school, because it's the only thing that distracts me enough to make me feel like things are okay. Or work. Nobody's called back. There was a spider on my bed right now. It freaked me out.

I have to keep writing, right now. The more I write. The deeper I burrow into this. It's something. It's something to numb my head. I'm going through this. I don't...know what else to do. I can't brush the fear away. Because it's bigger than one person. There has to be somewhere alone, out there. Somewhere so far from the rest of everything...that nobody knows it's there.

Honestly, I think I'd only feel safe if I were in space, by this point. But...in space, nobody has weapons. It's the rule. No weapons in space. That's why people were opposed to the Star Wars plan, back when Bush was first elected. So...someone could hurt me, from the ground. Someone could blow me up, from the ground.

My eye is so dry, and I can't sleep anymore. I checked my inbox, to write Aaron a letter like he asked, because he's spending a month in Australia and now...this.

I just want peace. I'm so scared to lose that.

I...wanna be sedated, right now. I want something, to put me out of my head. And I don't care how pathetic it soudns, because I know how pathetic I feel, curled up, cold, naked and crying, shaking, not able to keep from panicking.

?

About a half hour ago, I was in bed, with Kirya and Travis. They were naked. I wasn't. Kirya didn't know why I wasn't naked with them. She wanted me to be with her too.

I'm drunk.

This night...makes me feel weird.

Travis is snoring in the next room. I thought someone was dragging a bed over the floor.

That's all for tonight. My heart...is somewhere, right now.

Slight Entry Delay, heh

Well, that was much longer than I thought. This week has been kinda blurry. Not very...defined. Like the week with Erica was, but less solid.

I don't have as much to say, because I'm still tired, but I had an abrupt personality-change, about the guy I was mad at in the last entry. Suddenly, I just became this mess of smiles and niceties that he had missed. It's lasted, like, four days now, and I'm kind of impressed...if slightly confused by how that happened.

Today, I'm going to bake a sweet-potato pie. Or, I'm going to buy some more sweet potatoes, and get ready to make candied sweet potatoes, for dinner, tomorrow. I really want sweet potatoes for -something-.

I had Travis over the other day. Showed up at 5, ate, went to rehearsal, came back around 10, we were up until 5 in the morning playing video games. It was sweet. But exhausting. I kept falling asleep, but not noticing. So I'd start doing game-research for him, in my dream, and then waking up without noticing, and telling him it, expecting him to appreciate this information, but being totally confused.

Case in point:

Dream-Travis: "What does it mean when the enemies go 'Oversoul' like that?"
Alex: "Uhh...I can't remember for sure, past it making them stronger. Let me check. Oh. Here."
Dream-Travis: "So, what is it?"
Real-Alex: "Oversoul: It's when you've beaten a lot of enemies of that type...like, keep fighting variants of those wolves, and any kind of wolf might go Oversoul be a lot stronger."
Real-Travis:  "...What are you talking about?"
Real-Alex. "Uhh, the Oversoul status."
Real-Travis: "O_o?"

Yeah.

Like that.

I still haven't heard from you Ken, wanna try for this weekend? I think my hair could definitely use your help =P

A break from tradition

Or at least, only insofar as my tradition of updating every two days has been. I meant to, but first, was having dinner at Travis' (Shrimp-Chicken Singapore noodles. It was like heaven, because I was starving). And then was out, to  see This Hour Has 88 Years. My talking to Christian, lately, has been interrupted. It's kind of bad, that that makes me sad...I think.

Today, I applied at Value Village. In Pointe-Claire. It took awhile. A long while. I want to think I was demonstrating some kind of...saintly patience, to my would-be source of money, by waiting the hour I did for the floor manager to speak with me after filling out my application. Saw Jimmy. And Cathy. Since neither of you know it, Cathy is the only girl I ever 'dated'. When I was 12 and she was 13. Before Robbin at that party, she had been the only girl I'd kissed full-on. She, apparently, used to work there. For around a year. Got me being friendly with everyone. But he said I'd probably be doing weekends. I don't like that he took my sheet, where I put my availability as 'Tuesday-Friday, Daytime. Weekends.' and filled in Monday, in addition to 'Night' on every day. I didn't intend to do night, if I could help it. It bugs me. A lot more than it should, because I've only had one beer, but I'm tired, and I'm sore everywhere, and I really want to be talking to Christian more than I want to be fighting with Travis' internet, and typing to myself. I kinda...want to drink some more. Something sweet. Or even something...not so sweet. Something that'll burn just right, or be as sweet as I want.

I got into an ugly fight yesterday, with Aaron. I started talking about how characters are alive, when they're acted. Or rather, it came up, when he asked about my play, and how it was going in a direction I hadn't planned. We argued, as he tried to pick at my brain, and the bad parts of me that he's seen, but I don't exactly 'show off'. He's seen me when I'm angry, and when I'm blind with malice, and say really hurtful things unflinchingly. But I always panic when I get like that. He kept...prodding, and it made me really unhappy. I don't do 'serious', if I can help it. You both know that...he knows it too and it didn't stop him. Says I live in a bubble. That I delude myself on purpose, and hide away from reality in as powerful a shell as my imagination can muster. And that, especially, I need to control myself.

Too bad for him that I don't live in a bubble, and shame on him for being so locked in his own cynicism to dismiss my genuine conviction in hope, and happiness, as such. I like it just fine...and I know I'm not wrong.

They'll be gone, when I get back in the morning. It's weird to think. If you want to come over, Ken, give me a call, and we'll figure a time, and I can give you directions and stuff.

Alex: I got your message. All of that's cool. This is my confirmation =P

So I Says to Rogue, I Says, Day-um, Girl!

Last night, by which I mean, this morning, was long.

Because I kept falling in and out of sleep, and eating stuff. Like, a cookie, every time I'd get up. Each time I did, I got a little weaker, and my chest hurt a little more. It felt weird, even by my standards. To that end, I avoided eating, today. I took a small bowl of lettuce and some water around 1:30, because I wanted to exercise but didn't have the energy for it, but I don't plan on eating until dinner...where I'll probably skimp. The whole thing, and how close it is to when my family leaves, has brought to mind just how long I've been sick for.

In around two weeks, it'll have been one full year since this started, and we still haven't got an answer. Plenty of new guesses...but no answers, really, other than it almost definitely -not- being my heart. What with it usually not bothering me, when I'm dancing or working and stuff. The running theory is that it's some kind of auto-immune disease, like my mom's Lupus, but presumably different, since Lupus almost never affects men, and I don't have the facial markings, and that, like Lupus, is aggravated by stress. Which would explain why I so rarely have trouble when I'm staying at Travis', and so frequently have it when I'm staying here >_>

Putting that aside, I've been in a really Super Hero-y mood. I want to find Ultimate X-Men again. Made me think about looking into City of Heroes, once I get some money...like when Jimmy is finally around when I feel like applying at his store, grah.

The idea of thought solidifying into reality is kind of freaky. There's a book out there, the title is, like 'Uqbar, Tlon,', and then something else. About a man, the author actually who, after first reading an encyclopedia entry about this country, named Uqbar, that he'd never heard of, begins to become aware of a mass conspiracy to create a new world, by way of thought - They called it Tlon. The conspiracy's being done by the compound noun I'm missing from the title. It looks like it's Latin =P Anyway, as he learns more, he realizes that Earth is becoming Tlon, because he's aware of it. Like, his awareness of the idea of Tlon realizes, as an active material verb, the reality of Tlon.

I kind of have that kind of philosophy, tucked in the back of my head. I don't like it much, but I have a hard time shaking it.

I wanna see Degrassi the Musical this week. Alex, when do you want to go?

I need to work anyway...because Jimmy and Travis have already started saving up for next summer, when we move out. So it's become a necessity, that I instigate some cashflow-type action here.

Still flirting with Christian. We've started to talk every day, now.

Das macht spass.

The Man from Rhodes

It's 3:28 in the morning. A bunch of people I want to talk to have signed in, in the last little bit. But none of them are there. I've been waiting an hour, and going a little out of my head, from being alone like this. As a rule, I avoid the news. Actively. Like, on the internet, and TV, and the paper. I kinda stop functioning as well if I read or see too much of it, because there's often something in there that makes me go claustrophobic with panic or terror. Much to my chagrin, and immediate inconvenience since I like my Yahoo accounts, Yahoo's e-mail page now has a newsfeed when you first log in, that I can't get rid of. It's been there for a few months, but whenever I see stuff I really didn't want to know, on it, it reminds me of why I thought to change e-mail services. Needless to say, trying to distract myself long enough to protect myself from the extra knowledge isn't going so well. Because Christian and Luca, aren't answering. And no one else is online. And it's way, way too early to call someone who isn't Ken, who is probably still in Toronto.

Apparently Livejournal has inferred I'm gay. Since I'm frequently finding adds for 'Gay Bear Dating'.

Sweet deal.

Earlier today, some of the insulating stuff, on the power cables as they enter my house, had worn off. Exposing the wires to eachother. And subsequently arcing with electricity...which decimated the wires, and the cylinders in our breaker. We still had power...kinda. But there was so much -damage- to the system that the only rooms getting near-full electricity were the ones immediately adjacent to the breaker. Everywhere else got progressively weaker, 'till it tapered out. Either way, my laptop only has an hour-something's battery life...so before long, I was for want of entertainment.

So I started to write a play.

I had been reading, earlier in the day, about the Antikythera Mechanism - a relic recovered from a shipwreck from the first century BC that was found in 1900. It's an analog computer used to determine the position of the sun, Earth, Moon, and charts two different cycles used in determining the dates of eclipses. It's incredibly accurate, and small. The Mechanism actually comes built with instructions on its intended use, on a plate on the exterior. So it probably wasn't the only one of it's kind. What's striking, is that it's so small, and accurate, and <i>advanced</i>. Anyway, it got me to know that Rhodes was, in that period, known for its use of automatons. The Greeks had invented, and put to use, automatic mechanical devices - toys, and displays, and tools...the kind of advanced mechanisms that got rediscovered by the Europeans, thinking they invented it themselves, as 'clockwork'.

It got me thinking, about what if they ever built an automaton person. Leonardo da Vinci, for example, had blueprints for that kind of thing - it's called da Vinci's Robot, if you're curious, and it's an automated suit of armor. Nobody knows if he actually built it...but when people built it, from the surviving blueprints, in the last century, it worked exactly like he intended.  I'm getting kinda sidetracked here. Anyway. Automaton man. Which is where I'm starting from, in this play I've begun. The Man from Rhodes.

Beginning in the present day, it tracks the history of the remains of an automaton man, now just a headless bust, but still alive. Just unable to interact with his surroundings. As his gears begin to wear down, he reflects, upon twenty-one hundred years of life, in a non-linear progression, jumping from era and era, as the increasingly disrepaired Peter (so named, because he's made of stone. You know. Peter=>Petros=>Stone. It's actually a pun from the bible) loses his mobility, his voice, his senses, and finally his mind, set across the backdrop of semi-important historical events he inadvertantly bore witness to, or influenced.

I'd probably develop the human characters in each era...but I'd want them to be fundamentally similar, to act like...two continuous streams of character, interupted only by the limits of their successive lifetimes.

This is so artsy and bad. I've written about a page of dialog, opening the play in the present day, but Peter hasn't been introduced yet. I've got a really nifty idea on how to end it, though, at least.

This whole thing kind of surprised me. I never...really do 'creative' things like that.

I guess this is your doing, Ken, getting me to start writing like this =P

And the other person is one of my best friends, a girl named Alex.

Sprechen Sie Deutsch?

They came back today. Travis'  family. And Travis too. I realized, as the trip went on, how hard this has been on Abie, only having Erica, and me...who, while a semi-permanent fixture in this house, isn't on the same level. He really, really loves Travis' parents...like, thinks of, his mom especially, as if she were his biological mother. I saw him, at night...he'd go down into the basement, and press his face into the laundry of theirs that they left behind - Things that still had their scent on it. To remind himself of them.

When Viv came back, and he heard her...he ran upstairs. She was in the bathroom, and he was whining and trying to get inside, to see her. When she came out...It was a really heartwarming sight, for me. He was running, and wagging, and crying...He -jumped- in excitement. He's ten years old, and he looked like he was barely a year, seeing her.

I'm maudlin =P

I was awake until 3 or 4 in the morning, experiencing Slings and Arrows. It is, to be blunt, the best Canadian show. Period. Like, it beat out Degrassi. Speaking as an actor, it makes me feel all warm and giddy inside. It's also really funny. And actor-related. When Erica's done practicing downstairs, I should go get the next DVD, actually. Okay. Just did that.

I kinda wanna...talk to Christian about what happened. I haven't seen him on MSN since then...and only once, on Facebook, and he was gone by the time I finished typing something.

It's been six days, I've been here...Of those, I was only -not- drunk, on one night. It's made it...an ephervessent blur of feelings and memories, stringing to memories, stringing to dreams, bridged by trips outside with Abie, and re-reading The Golden Compass for the first time in years.

That was kinda weird sounding.

I helped Erica with her German, the other night. She was studying for her quiz. Das macht spaß, der Deutschsprechen!

Thought of the day: I'd really like to try Chartreuse. And a B-52, but Chartreuse.

Sangria, Dogs, Drama, Stuff

Day 3 of my sojourn with Erica. Status chez-her: Awesome. Two nights ago was a dinner party with the gay guys upstairs - we had liverwurst, and a fennel salad, and vases of Sangria...around burgers, and a strawberry-rhubarb pie. They also baked us a loaf of bread. Apparently, it's a hobby of theirs.

Walking Abie is fun. Because I talk to him, and he doesn't really have much to say besides 'We're going this way', and I'm like 'You're a ridiculous dog.. Can we please go -this- way?', and he's all 'Yo bitch, this is -my- hood, ain't nobody gonna lay some hate down on me in -my- hood, now y'all gonna walk me this way, a'ight G?'. It was funny. You know, 'dog', and 'dawg'. Homophonic puns. He's napping on the floor next to my bed, right now. It's cute, because he's big, and adorable.

Last night was a house party, back in the west island. Point of order? Live Journal is giving me ads on how to lose weight and meet Jewish singles. I think this might be love. End P. of O. Anyway, house party happened. Rather than being entirely cheap, I brought chips and beer. There was plenty of sour puss - I was pleased. We played Mao, and Robbin was getting really drunk. And then, O two people who read this, was there drama. As you both know, or at least, I know Ken knows and I think you know too, Alex, Christian, Kathleen's ex, was laying on the flirtations at Robbin's party the other week. He was here. At this, Kathleen's, party. And it started. He kept eyeing me now and then, and we'd grab a beer together, then we sat, and talked. He put his feet on my lap, and kinda rubbed my side. Then Kathleen came in, to socialize, and try to prevent this. Some talking, and her trying to either get my seat, or him to sit on her lap. Eventually, he sat on mine. 'Why would you sit on Alex's lap but not mine?'. Strike one, folks. It slides, time passes, we talk, and drink, some more. He gives me these really cute looks, when he thinks I'm not looking...and especially, when he sees that I am. He asks if I wanna go outside. We do. She follows. He gets upset. They argue. Amanda comes to try and calm them both down. He starts to get angry. And says some mean things. Sitting in the midst of which is 'Why won't you leave me alone? Why do you keep following me? Why are you so obsessed with me? I took someone outside, -alone-, in the dark, behind your house. Doesn't that -imply- something to you? Do you really not see what I want to do here?'. Strike -two-, lady and gent.  She, apparently, didn't. More arguing, yelling on both sides, mean things, she cries, and goes inside. I begin to give up. He's been pleading, a lot of this time, for me to stay later. I was gonna catch a bus circa 12:30 with Amanda, so we can both go back into town. He goes in, for something. I stargaze.

For once, it's kinda nice. I saw the Big Dipper, and I remembered Aries, from when I used to stargaze. I saw it too.

He comes back. 'What's up?' 'Stargazing. I found Aaaaarieeeees. It's my sign. So it's cool.' '...I should have you over to stargaze with me some time. I have these two telescopes, my grandfather built one of them himself...I'd really like it if you could come do that.' 'I'd like that.' We look, I don't say much after this point. I'm already feeling guilty, and trying to shut off so as to not pick sides.

He leaves, and comes, and leaves, and comes. He's getting upset. I think I'm upsetting him, by not taking his side, and I'm upsetting her by not taking her side as much as I would if I -did-. He goes in. The other people outside keep telling me to go in. Eventually, I do. Another fight happens. A lot of 'I hate you.' A lot of 'Why would you do that?' A lot of negative. And yelling. And negative.

She hit him. Strike Three. I'm out. Get it?

He struggles, she cries, he cries, someone else hits him too. Kathleen hurt her face, in all this. He gets dragged out, yelling. I wanted to leave, but lost my shoes. Apparently, they were up my ass. It's funny, that I should be told that, because I found them on the floor beneath the shoe rack.. I leave, having not said anything, besides 'I...I can walk. It's not too far to my house.' (which, by the way, is a lie. It's a 10+ mile walk to my house from hers). I grimaced a lot, in there. That's a good word for 'frown', 'grimace'. To look grim. I see him outside, he asks if I'm going. I frown and nod, affirming it.

That was my night. I kicked the air. And punched the air. And sang a lot, the hour-something walk home. To my mom, who I fought with, drunkenly, angrily, when she complained that I should have planned ahead on how to get back, and to a nine-hour rest. Dreams sucked, by the way.

I'm back home, in NDG right now. I like it here.

Erica should be back from work soon. I printed a bunch of copies of my CV while I was back in Dorval, I'm gonna go job-hunting at some point this week. Maybe go see Jimmy, and apply at Value Village, since he and Jason are there. I wonder if we're having sandwiches for dinner - It's hot.