That stupid robot attacked me, I really hate that thing. It knocked me into a wall like hard enough to almost knock me out. I told Murdoc and he swears that he didn't program it to seriously injure me, just keep me in line. It's like being in the military or something like that, bu no; I've been kidnapped by a complete maniac and I'm being kept on a stupid island. I keep thinking if I had my phone I'd call for help, but end of the world, point Nemo...The middle of fucking nowhere. The only sound I hear is the occasional helicopter flying overhead, Murdoc doing his stupid pirate radio broadcasts...I hate those, well sort of...At least he takes me out of this stupid room when he does them, the downside being then I'm locked in another room where I got to listen to him ramble on like a complete dumb ass about literally anything. It's kind of mind numbing, but drives me less crazy than sitting in this stupid room. I swear it's like he fucking knows that if he refuses me human contact then I'll actually enjoy or have to enjoy his company. I don't want to enjoy his company, he's a complete asshole.

He's still saying I'll end up helping him with finishing this stupid album that he's written. He also won't show me any of the songs that he's written until I agree to help him out. I figure it this way; either I give in and agree to help him out or I'll end up in the fucking vocal booth with a deranged robot holding a gun to my head while I sing songs that are probably horrible. I swear to God if any of the songs he's written are about groupies, his junk, or Satan I'm probably going to off myself. I just keep remembering the whole 'Murdoc is God' thing, also I'm pretty sure he confessed to man slaughter when he wrote that one...Not like it's the first time he's killed anybody if you count Noodle possibly being dead and oh that's another thing there's these other helicopters that come around a lot. They actually look a hell of a lot like the ones from the El Manana shoot, the mysterious ones that aren't all that mysterious anymore...Murdoc says that they're pirates that want to rip his stupid head off, apparently something about a lot of fake bombs...Shocking; what is with him and ripping people off? It's like he WANTS somebody to kill him. Hell I want to kill him...Sort of, okay not really.

I'm starting to get my migraines again, but I'm trying every way to get rid of them that doesn't involve taking those stupid pills. I'm not going back there, screw him, and his stupid drug supply. Of course he's stoned almost constantly; he has this dumb belief that when he's drunk he's sober. That doesn't even make sense, when he's drunk he's just creepy. Like whatever the fuck snapped loose in that funny head of his is just weird and I don't know what to think or feel about any of this.

Maybe if I was allowed out of this room more than every couple of days then I could talk to him and hang out with him. Like the old days, back when everything was cool and we were one family. I wonder if anyone notices that I'm missing. It's funny, I tell him all the time that people are looking for me, people will notice that I'm missing. He replies that nobody gives a shit about me and I wanna be hurt and angry at him, but I can't be. It's not like...Even when he says it, it's not angry or cruel...It's like he's stating a really sad fucking fact, about both of us. Nobody notices either of us are gone; the media only gives a shit about us when we do something new which is why he's so crazy obsessed with making another album, he fucking hates when he's alone and forgotten. Then if you think about family wise; mom hates me at this point, I got no friends, and he really has literally nobody. That doesn't mean I wanna talk to him or like him or anything...He hates being alone so much, I don't get why somebody who can't stand being unnoticed decided to lock themselves away in the middle of nowhere for a year. I don't get why he fucked us all over, why he said the shit he said to me before the band ended, why he burned down our home; fuck if he hadn't done that then I think we would have gone back...maybe not Russ, but I would have. I might have forgiven him for being a prick, even if he didn't care if I forgave him or not.

That's how our relationship works you know...We would just break for awhile, because we need to. I guess in a weird way it's like...God our relationship no matter how you look at it has always been really messed up. When we were just friends, just band mates, just shagging, and even when we hate each other. I used to idolize this guy; this guy who hit me with his car, who put me in a coma for a year and basically blamed me for the whole thing. The same guy who beat, strangled, threw, tossed, burned, and electrocuted me all the while I was in a coma. The same guy who got me into a second car crash because he's a drunken idiot and what do I do when I wake up with more brain damage and two fractured eyes? I fucking worship the ground he walks on. I let him beat on me, let him treat me like shit, shag my girlfriend, and fuck with me. Yeah okay for awhile there we were alright; we would be alright mates or we would be alright as a couple, but now we're here.

How fucked up am I that I spent years being okay with him treating me this way? We dated all that time and kept it top secret, not because either of us give a toss about people knowing we're gay, but because he was embarrassed about being with me.

I still don't get why I'm here, yeah I get the whole singing thing, but if he can replace Noodle with a guitar playing, gun toting robo stripper then why couldn't he get a new singer or just make a new one? Why me, is it because I'm the only person on this rotting planet who wouldn't just shoot him in the damned face the moment they had the chance? How dumb is it part of me does worry he'll get killed. He says he can't die, sometimes he does that. He'll talk about starting the fires in London back in the 1800s and how he's been here since the beginning of the world...He told me ages ago he took a few courses in college for world history, learned some things about other cultures, but he got bored and quit. Maybe he just learned shit there and decided in his drunken mind to warp it so it sounds like he's done all kinds of shit through history...I could say he's just bat shit crazy, but the creepy thing is I think he might be serious, not crazy...I still don't know what's going on with that, I wonder if I could get him to tell me some day...I doubt he would let me out long enough to have that conversation. Or any conversation for that matter...I don't know why I'm here; if it's company then I'm shit company locked up down here.

That's it, next time he ask if I'll help him I'll agree, but if these songs are as rubbish as I figure they are then I'm jumping off of the fucking cliff.