Here – I have no idea where this came from, but I hope to continue it. I love AU right now, even though I don't know what it stands for, I just have a rough approximation as to what it means :D. Please review and I will continue it. Some chapters will be in flashback form, most in diary.

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14th March

This is unreal. God knows why I am doing this, just hope it helps. Diaries? How the mighty have fallen.

Guess I should name you really. I'll end up sounding like a twelve year old girl at the end of each day, 'Dearest Molly, today I played with Daisy next door'. Ugh. You want a name? Something like Kitty, or Lizzy or anything else that ends in –y? How about a normal name for once…Joel? Pete?

Simon?

Yeah, ok. Pete. That's you. Hey Pete, I'm Cloud. I'm aged 21. Go me.

Just published my third book 'Rosehips and Daffodils', 500,000 copies sold already, I'm a star in the literary world after winning the Bugenhagen Prize.

Shut up, I know it sounds like a pussy name, flowers and all that shit. It's about an abused schizo trying to remember his mother whilst slowly realizing he's just blown her head off. It's a bestseller, get offa my back.

And I'm a fucking loser. Tifa left me. Rufus died. And I've lost the ability to write. So that's great. Seriously, I had an idea, put pen to paper…and…nothing. Normally it'd just flow, but now…Now I'm all screwed up. Tifa. Shit.

I just read what I wrote up there. Sound like an angsty teen trying to get over his first ever girlfriend. Do you know what's worse? What I've gone and done out of misery. It makes no sense – I blew all the money I won on this crappy little house in Kalm, the crappiest village of them all. I left the city and now I'm in some tiny village in the hills. Thought maybe the scenery would help.

It hasn't. Spent twenty minutes looking at the horizon and the most creative thing I came up with is 'I wonder if there's a Subway around here'. God save us all.

Hey, maybe you'll help the whole 'lost my muse' shit going on here. I'll write a decent sentence at the end of every entry. Sounds good, huh? Well, it probably won't, knowing me right now.

Let's give it ago. I'll talk about…my next door neighbor. He's a fucking psycho. I move in this morning, knock on his door out of manners and end up with a nightstick at my throat – fun times! He told me to cram it and piss off, then invited me in for tea. Jesus. Awesome hair though. Kinda thin and a bit creepy. And he answered the door topless. I think he may have been drinking.

Ok, ok, enough with the man-loving. Get my drift, though Pete? I love hair. That's so girly! Jeeeeeesus. It's so weird – I'm reading this crap that I'm spewing out and anyone would think I'm another mindless LiveJournal blogger idiot.

Oh. My. God. I really have lost it. Yep. I swing both ways gladly. Admit it, stupid. You can't deny that guy was fucking gorgeous.

Great! So today, I've started a diary, moved into a new house and decided I'm bi. Fantastic. Well…I guess it wasn't a split second decision, Pete. I did have a boyfriend once. I just am always on the brink of accepting myself…ugh. I'm so screwed up. Or am I? Shit, I'm rambling. I'm drunk. I'm bi. Shit.

No-one else knows though, shhhh. Hah. Everyone knows. I could have 'closet case' tattooed on my forehead and people would figure it out before they spotted my face. Yeah. Oh, this is messing me up already and I've been here for…8 hours.

Now – writing. I promised. Next door neighbour.

Crimson hair in lazy spikes, emulating the lethargy in his movements. Arrogance radiates off of him with the unmistakable aura of alcohol and nicotine. It gives an impression of self-adoration, yet loathing is worn as the scars on his cheeks.

Shit. Sounds like a telegram. Help me, Pete. Hope tomorrow is better. Gotta find a job.

C.