June 4, 2005
I laugh at my reader's straining ear pains. Not that one can hear a story that's written down and not ever spoken. Sorry I didn't update in a while. I just got sort of. . .er. . .lazy. Very lazy. And that's saying it tactfully.
Whatever. Let's start the show already, huh?
I look up at the moon
And all I see is myself
Hanging up there
Lonely, with nothing to be around
But stars, who don't even talk back
Cold and white, pale, empty
Who am I? Who am I?
But a reflection
Of the black bird's words. . .
Of the black bird's words. . .
"Yuki. . .It's okay. . .it's only public nudity. . ."
But if they caught me. . .they'd find out. . .
"Shuichi, we're checking out. Now."
"Yuki. . .I. . ." Shuichi couldn't get out what he wanted to say. Yuki was already checking out with the remote control. (You can check out of some hotel rooms with a remote control and the TV, believe it or not.)
Shuichi didn't bother to ask. He gathered up the duffel bag and what was left of Yuki's belongings.
Crap. . .how am I gonna explain a broken mirror? Yuki ran to the bathroom, as if one last look would give him the answer. Shuichi was bewildered. "Hey, Yuki, what's wrong?" Yuki gave a nervous smile. "N-Nothing!" He ran and grabbed Shuichi's arm and ran out into the hallway. "Yuki! You're hurting my arm!" Yuki closed his ears to the complaint and dashed for the elevator, pulling Shuichi in with him. Shuichi fell to the other side of the elevator as Yuki jabbed at the first floor button. When they got to the bottom, Yuki dashed to the counter with Shuichi closely following him. The parrot lady opened her beak. "Ah, Mr. Yoo-kee, we've been expecting you at the counter. How would you like to pay?" Yuki held out his credit card. "Fast!" he said. The parrot lady squawked as she took the card and zipped it through the machine. "Awk The total comes to $125 for the one night you stayed." She handed him his card. "awk, Have a nice day, sur." Yuki nabbed the card and dashed out with Shuichi. They took the sidestreets, and just as they were halfway there, police cars were pulling up to the hotel. Somewhere upstairs, a maid was screaming.
They had reached an alleyway off Michigan Ave. by the time they stopped. Shuichi looked up at Yuki. Yuki was lost in his world of cops and fugitives, and Shuichi knew that he wouldn't be able to reach Yuki.
Around the world in half a day
I've seen better things
Where my own heart lies
(Not sure, never knew, wish I knew. . .)
Why the black bird stalks me
On it's pinprick talons
It's glassy eyes staring into me
Figuring me out
And making me more afraid
Every moving second. . .
Back at Yuki's apartment, Shuichi had seen Yuki run into the bedroom, slamming the door. Shuichi had followed his movements with eyes glazed over. I'm so tired, I don't even care. . .
Yuki was lost again. In and out went the air in his lungs, the breathing getting heavier and heavier. Sweat beaded on all sides of his head. What do I. . .? A box underneath the bed seized his hard stare within minutes. He dashed for it, seizing it and ripping off the innocent lid. Suddenly, his vision was filled with the past. The past himself, and what he had done. Pictures of he himself. And. . .
Shuichi wondered when he'd have to go back to work. He wondered if Yuki's sister was alright. If Tohma was doing good. Tohma. Tohma. . . Shuichi's eyes glazed over instantly. He sank beneath his man-made thought pool, letting himself drown in his nightmares. Something that nobody would doubt that Yuki knew how to do. Shuichi's pink hair wavered about his head in the clear water. . . .If I stayed like this, would anybody mind? If I decide to. . . Shuichi exhumed himself from the bath. He whisked his head about, splattering the tiles and shower curtain with water. The water dripped down from his body onto the floor. It leaked under the door to the hardwood floor outside in the hall. But nobody saw the reflection of the ceiling it gave. With a silent reverence, the water stood there, unbreakable. Maybe what Yuki needed was water. What was Shuichi?
Murderer, murderer, where can I find you?
You take what is precious to me,
And run away with a skip to your step?
Murderer, murderer, where can you find absolution?
Do you think you'll find it in the crack in the wall
Or maybe drowning in your thoughts?
Murderer, O, murderer, one day you will find,
Someone else, who wants to take from you
All that you find precious. . .
Fire. Her hair burned as the sun did. Her eyes a powerful shade of blue-gray. Depression. All that she breathed. Revenge. All that she knew. Marcona, her brother. She had loved him. But he was involved with illegal activities, and to put it more precisely, he was a part of a drug ring. Before long, she barely saw him; he was always out.
And one day. . .
Sweeties, we're all moths to the flame
Letting ourselves be consumed in the pretty nothing
Our own person pretty death notes
Isn't it wonderful, to live life as we do
To die so young, to never grow old
To be so naïve, to freeform something
So
Very
COMPLEX. . .
Who am I? Where am I? Where do I go. . .from here? Why was I put here for such a terrible purpose? Why did I? Why did I? WHY DID I! krchghrkech. . . DAMMIT, WOULD SOMEBODY TELL ME ALREADY! WHY! WHY! TELL ME!