I truly believe the hardest part of telling a story, is the way one would want to title it; Large, multi-billion dollar corporations don't go through their daily rambles by not having a name of and for themselves. Fame. Famous musicians with their bands' titles and some with stage names. Could you imagine the boring nature of everyone having the same title? For each subject and genre there is a mood, and the namesake should follow appropriately. It's just inching by 3 A.M. I live away from my parents; one biological the other through law. I miss my three younger siblings. I cringe from my school years and the accidents or trouble I hate myself for. It's three ante meridiem, "before mid-day". Latin is a dead tongue. Ill mouthed I am, but learning is passive aggressive. The luminescence from the lamp casting from the corner of the living room provides enough dim light to write in my journal. They say once you name something, you own it. Let it reflect your self, your persona, your mood, your emotions. Taking an old sharpie, with shit cursive, title the composition book "Insomaniac's Diary". Best to leave it without an author. Evidence in your own name can be used against you.
I put down the parchment and pen, and cradle my paws in my lap. Tears want to trace my face, fall from the chin, and pool in my open paws. Thinking of all that is and all that should have been. Thinking of 18 years of living, one evolution through and another to go, still in my youth but not my prime. I love my mother; Her fire melts stone from the heart of polar regions that have no idea of the existence of light, heat, or love. She tries. Her perseverance is my personal motivation and determination to see tomorrow. The embers stirring from my shallow navy fur on my back ignite from contemplating. Even though everything has been deemed fire-proof, I see no reason to scorch the walls. The leather of the couch and suede from the cushions wouldn't do well with my flame. My species are known as Volcano Pokémon, the badgers from lava. I can handle myself, but I couldn't do things alone. My roomates, a Nidoqueen who fears being infertile, and a male-only preference Ampharos. She is younger then the gay electric type pokémon, but I am the youngest of all. I have a nickname that I created in high school I had many call me by: Auleo.
The Nidoqueen, Stephy, is scared of being infertile, and who's to blame her? Birth control has its benefits; all the debauchery and none of the consequences. However, she has taken herself off the drug in recent months. Her certain love interest in her life, a Garchomp, takes care of her admirably. They deserve each other, even though they aren't dating, just more of a, leads-to-relationship-friends-with-benefits. This Ampharos, whom I share a bed with in our two bedroom apartment, the Queen having a room of her own, has expressed his feelings for me, but I told him the answer he didn't want to hear. I'm not one for relationships. Admittedly, my sexual preference and interest does involve both genders, I do not have romantic feelings for him. He'll do anything for me, and buy me anything if I ever asked, or see something done ASAP if requested. I never took advantage of him or his feelings. Just told him we were friends. And that's all that our relationship has been by my standards. Good friends. Earlier this morning, after closing out of this video sharing website, I had a certain taste for sweet sweet rum. Kool-aid in the fridge, i made a 75/25 mix, not measured, and headed out to the back porch to enjoy a cigarette in the night.
Remembering I actually like the idea of rum but not drinking it, I wasted the small batch over the railing. The same process with a puffed once cigarette, knocked the burning cherry out and thought of my actions. I put the tobbacco back inside its pack, and my lighter tucked with it. Being a fire type, it's weird to have flame assisted tools on hand. We breathe it, expel it, throw it, kick it, fire leaves our body on limp will. I decided to be lazy. My nights lately don't have me passing out around midnight like my usual night goes. I wouldn't call it insomnia, just thinking too much. A car 4 years older than me paid half off and then some, a drivers license to finally earn, car repairs, money, money, money, money, money, that next paycheck too far away. I'm just a kid and my life is a nightmare. Granted, I'm faring off better than a lot of other people, but i deserve to wallow in my own self misery. It's important to recognize others pain greater than your own because chances are, you're life is a cake walk to their careful steps on crushed glass. Too many things I want, there's another family I'm trying to reestablish connections with, job hopping is a pain in the ass, too many adult things to worry about.
I need to remind myself, the difference between sleeping for a night, and sleeping for the rest of your life.
Tomorrow is a new day...
~Auleo