DISCLAIMER: I tried to catch a leprechaun to make him grant me my wish of
owning GW, but unfortunately my hand eye coordination sucks. I manage to
catch sight of one near the high school football field but when I began to
run after it I tripped and fell in a pile of mud.at least I prayed it was
mud. Therefore I'm sad to say that I own nothing of GW and it belongs to
whoever it belongs to. I do own my wacky ideas and interesting words that I
manage to put into things called sentences in order to create a plot and
story line.If I succeeded at that.well that's up to you decide since it's
the readers who can make and break an author. At least that's what I've
been told.
Warnings: 1x2x1 and other yaoi richness
Perhaps some 3x4x3, I'm not that sure on the other pairings.
Maybe a lime or two, but no lemons, not that I'm against lemons, but
I'm not that great a writing them myself.
Yes feedback is always welcome, though I don't see the point in flames. Feel free to flame if you have the undying need to, but I probably won't take it seriously. Constructive criticism is very much appreciated since I'm going to use this story for my Advanced Creative Writing class (but without the GW touches) and can always use more pointers and advice.
Well that's all. Enjoy!!
The Journal By livingwater89
Chapter One Paper and Pen
January 6th, XXXX I'm going to come right out and tell you, this wasn't my idea. It was Hilde's. She thought that it would help if I recorded my thoughts on paper, help me sort and figure them out since I refused to see a shrink. There was no way in hell that I was about to tell my darkest inner demons to some stranger and let him dissect them into little pieces until they made sense to him. My thoughts were too private for me to say aloud in a controlled environment like that. And anyway, it wasn't like they would understand. Hilde can barely understand and she's my best friend. Don't get me wrong, Hilde is cool and all. She knows the most about my past then anybody else alive. But what she does know is pretty small compared to all the shit I'm hiding. I know she wants to help, and truth be told, I really appreciate her efforts, but some stuff doesn't feel right to speak aloud, you know? It just hurts.a lot. And I don't care what the hell they say about time healing wounds. It's not true. Time does not heal everything; it just gives me more days to broad over how everything got fucked up. It's like being shut in an empty movie theater and being forced to watch my mistakes over and over and over again until I want to scream so loud that my throat bleeds and my voice box bursts. Of course the theater is all in my head and no one but me is allowed in. No one but me can be allowed in. I don't want anyone else to have to fight off the darkness like I do. And God does it get harder and harder to fight everyday. Sometimes I wonder if I really am insane. I already know I'm crazy, but being insane is a total different thing altogether. Not that I would be totally surprised to learn that I was insane, I was already tottering on the edge of my sanity and I don't think it would take much to push me over. Not that I cared really, I just would feel bad for Hilde. She's trying her damn hardest to help me. Poor thing, I don't think it was possible to help me if you weren't able to turn back time or bring back the dead. Heh, that's a long paragraph. I didn't think I would get into this journal writing thing so fast. Who knows, maybe Hilde's right and this might just make me feel better. If it's possible for a cheap black pen and 350 page notebook to make someone as screwed up as me feel better. Damn, I have no clue what to write in you. I mean, it's not like you're a real person who's going to judge me or anything, or for that matter even care what kind of crap I write down. I could doodle dancing clowns with lemon noses in all the pages and just be done with it. Of course, there is the matter of that promise I made to Hilde. I promised I would try out this journal thing since I obviously wouldn't go see a shrink and I couldn't-wouldn't-talk to her. What kind of friend would I be if I threw my depressing crap onto that girl. A fucking bad one, that's what kind. And don't give me that bullshit about friends helping each other out. That's exactly what I was doing. I know Hilde, and since I know her so well, I know that telling her my entire story will break her into a sobbing wreck filled with pity for the 'poor lost boy.' The last thing I need is Hilde's pity. What good would it do? It would just make me feel shitty and weak. Our whole friendship would be changed. She would always look at me with sorrow filled eyes and constantly watch herself to make sure she didn't say anything to remind me of my grief. I didn't need that. My grinning, happy mask was all I needed for protection. Grin in the face of sorrow even if I don't mean it. Well, I think that's enough heart spilling confessions for today. It's the most I've ever told anyone before. Don't see why I need to continue. Anyway, I'm thinking of getting a side job to the scavenger's yard that I run with Hilde. Not that we really need the money since we make enough to get by decently. Hilde and I happen to be geniuses at fixing things and finding parts. Got a car, toaster, security system, whatever that needs work on, then bring it to Hilde's Little Yard to get fixed. We have a great reputation around the L2 colony for being able to fix anything. Hell, even the snotty rich folks use our services. We're that good. Anyway, I want a second job, 'cause fixing things may be well and good, and though I love my work, I need a little more excitement to make things interesting. I need more challenges that'll take my mind off the past.
So, sayonara, journal thing, I'll see you tomorrow if Hilde has her way, which she will.
O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O
Duo Maxwell placed down his pen and stared blankly at the filled in page before him. He still didn't quite believe that he had written such personal information down. What if someone read it? More importantly, what if Hilde read it? He glanced over at the black haired girl then back at his new journal. Hilde absolutely could not read it. No one could read it. It was PRIVATE with capital letters. He sighed and ran a hand through his chestnut colored bangs and grabbed the end of his thigh length braid to fiddle with. It wasn't like he could just write a bunch of made up bullshit like he had originally planned. No, Hilde had already thought of that. She made him promise to write down his real thoughts and emotions and nothing else. If he wanted to b.s. her, then fine. But he was not about to b.s. himself. So since he never lied (although omission and misleading people with the truth was okay) and always kept a promise, he had been forced to write down exactly what he was thinking. Stupid promises.
Closing the thick, black notebook (Hilde just had to pick out the biggest one they had at the store) he stood up and went to his room. Hilde didn't say anything, but he felt her eyes follow him as he walked. She wouldn't say anything until he did. That was just peachy, as far as he was concern. His thoughts were too messed up right now for him to be the happy go lucky guy he tried to portray himself as. He really needed that second job. It was not good to broad on the past.
Closing his door softly, Duo flopped down on his metal framed bed with the fluffy mattress. It wasn't stuffed with feathers, but it still felt nice. Hell anything felt nicer then sleeping in a gutter with the cold rain pounding down on him. No! Bad train of thought! Very bad! Definitely time to get another job.
~O~O~O~O~O~O~
A//N: Sorry it's so damn short, but continuing the chapter just didn't seem right. It felt too drawn out with a choppy flow.In other words I got too lazy to want to continue and just felt like starting chapter two.pick the excuse you like. Okay, so review if you want, email me if you want, and above all tell me what you think.
Warnings: 1x2x1 and other yaoi richness
Perhaps some 3x4x3, I'm not that sure on the other pairings.
Maybe a lime or two, but no lemons, not that I'm against lemons, but
I'm not that great a writing them myself.
Yes feedback is always welcome, though I don't see the point in flames. Feel free to flame if you have the undying need to, but I probably won't take it seriously. Constructive criticism is very much appreciated since I'm going to use this story for my Advanced Creative Writing class (but without the GW touches) and can always use more pointers and advice.
Well that's all. Enjoy!!
The Journal By livingwater89
Chapter One Paper and Pen
January 6th, XXXX I'm going to come right out and tell you, this wasn't my idea. It was Hilde's. She thought that it would help if I recorded my thoughts on paper, help me sort and figure them out since I refused to see a shrink. There was no way in hell that I was about to tell my darkest inner demons to some stranger and let him dissect them into little pieces until they made sense to him. My thoughts were too private for me to say aloud in a controlled environment like that. And anyway, it wasn't like they would understand. Hilde can barely understand and she's my best friend. Don't get me wrong, Hilde is cool and all. She knows the most about my past then anybody else alive. But what she does know is pretty small compared to all the shit I'm hiding. I know she wants to help, and truth be told, I really appreciate her efforts, but some stuff doesn't feel right to speak aloud, you know? It just hurts.a lot. And I don't care what the hell they say about time healing wounds. It's not true. Time does not heal everything; it just gives me more days to broad over how everything got fucked up. It's like being shut in an empty movie theater and being forced to watch my mistakes over and over and over again until I want to scream so loud that my throat bleeds and my voice box bursts. Of course the theater is all in my head and no one but me is allowed in. No one but me can be allowed in. I don't want anyone else to have to fight off the darkness like I do. And God does it get harder and harder to fight everyday. Sometimes I wonder if I really am insane. I already know I'm crazy, but being insane is a total different thing altogether. Not that I would be totally surprised to learn that I was insane, I was already tottering on the edge of my sanity and I don't think it would take much to push me over. Not that I cared really, I just would feel bad for Hilde. She's trying her damn hardest to help me. Poor thing, I don't think it was possible to help me if you weren't able to turn back time or bring back the dead. Heh, that's a long paragraph. I didn't think I would get into this journal writing thing so fast. Who knows, maybe Hilde's right and this might just make me feel better. If it's possible for a cheap black pen and 350 page notebook to make someone as screwed up as me feel better. Damn, I have no clue what to write in you. I mean, it's not like you're a real person who's going to judge me or anything, or for that matter even care what kind of crap I write down. I could doodle dancing clowns with lemon noses in all the pages and just be done with it. Of course, there is the matter of that promise I made to Hilde. I promised I would try out this journal thing since I obviously wouldn't go see a shrink and I couldn't-wouldn't-talk to her. What kind of friend would I be if I threw my depressing crap onto that girl. A fucking bad one, that's what kind. And don't give me that bullshit about friends helping each other out. That's exactly what I was doing. I know Hilde, and since I know her so well, I know that telling her my entire story will break her into a sobbing wreck filled with pity for the 'poor lost boy.' The last thing I need is Hilde's pity. What good would it do? It would just make me feel shitty and weak. Our whole friendship would be changed. She would always look at me with sorrow filled eyes and constantly watch herself to make sure she didn't say anything to remind me of my grief. I didn't need that. My grinning, happy mask was all I needed for protection. Grin in the face of sorrow even if I don't mean it. Well, I think that's enough heart spilling confessions for today. It's the most I've ever told anyone before. Don't see why I need to continue. Anyway, I'm thinking of getting a side job to the scavenger's yard that I run with Hilde. Not that we really need the money since we make enough to get by decently. Hilde and I happen to be geniuses at fixing things and finding parts. Got a car, toaster, security system, whatever that needs work on, then bring it to Hilde's Little Yard to get fixed. We have a great reputation around the L2 colony for being able to fix anything. Hell, even the snotty rich folks use our services. We're that good. Anyway, I want a second job, 'cause fixing things may be well and good, and though I love my work, I need a little more excitement to make things interesting. I need more challenges that'll take my mind off the past.
So, sayonara, journal thing, I'll see you tomorrow if Hilde has her way, which she will.
O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O
Duo Maxwell placed down his pen and stared blankly at the filled in page before him. He still didn't quite believe that he had written such personal information down. What if someone read it? More importantly, what if Hilde read it? He glanced over at the black haired girl then back at his new journal. Hilde absolutely could not read it. No one could read it. It was PRIVATE with capital letters. He sighed and ran a hand through his chestnut colored bangs and grabbed the end of his thigh length braid to fiddle with. It wasn't like he could just write a bunch of made up bullshit like he had originally planned. No, Hilde had already thought of that. She made him promise to write down his real thoughts and emotions and nothing else. If he wanted to b.s. her, then fine. But he was not about to b.s. himself. So since he never lied (although omission and misleading people with the truth was okay) and always kept a promise, he had been forced to write down exactly what he was thinking. Stupid promises.
Closing the thick, black notebook (Hilde just had to pick out the biggest one they had at the store) he stood up and went to his room. Hilde didn't say anything, but he felt her eyes follow him as he walked. She wouldn't say anything until he did. That was just peachy, as far as he was concern. His thoughts were too messed up right now for him to be the happy go lucky guy he tried to portray himself as. He really needed that second job. It was not good to broad on the past.
Closing his door softly, Duo flopped down on his metal framed bed with the fluffy mattress. It wasn't stuffed with feathers, but it still felt nice. Hell anything felt nicer then sleeping in a gutter with the cold rain pounding down on him. No! Bad train of thought! Very bad! Definitely time to get another job.
~O~O~O~O~O~O~
A//N: Sorry it's so damn short, but continuing the chapter just didn't seem right. It felt too drawn out with a choppy flow.In other words I got too lazy to want to continue and just felt like starting chapter two.pick the excuse you like. Okay, so review if you want, email me if you want, and above all tell me what you think.