Hey guys, told you I'd be putting up another chapter soon! Okay so I was thinking about it and with what I have right now it just kinda seems like the story is...dragging out. Like I know in a real journal things don't just go whabam and all but for a story on here I feel like maybe I should pick up the pace with it. I dunno. Anyway go ahead and read this chapter! And if you have any ideas on the dilemma I'm at, please enlighten me!

Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush, not even a single hair from their perfectly trimmed head :P

March 24th

Well, we wrapped recording for our next C.D. so things are pretty calm and lazy now which is nice because the lazy down days are just what I need to take my mind off of everything and put my mood in a better place. The guys have been talking about hitting the beach and nothing sounds better to me than laying around, soaking some warm sun rays up and watching Kendall's sexy ass splash around in the water...Okay, yeah I'm going to stop that thought right now before I let myself get too deep into it and get into some serious trouble.

The days haven't been too bad lately. The guys have been keeping me distracted, without realizing it of course since they don't know anything is wrong. And I'm super glad because with the new found free time I need something to keep my mind from drowning in the details of the whole divorce thing. Because if there is anything that can go wrong during free time, it's your mind wondering to those stupid things you wish it wouldn't!

What's really strange is that when I first heard the news that they were divorcing, I didn't really care. I mean, yeah it hurt, but it felt some fact that I'd just learned. Like when the towers were attacked, people were sad but it was something that you learned about and then continued going on with your life, adjusting here and there to the change.

But now the whole thing makes me practically sick to my stomach. My appetite is lower than ever and I think I've lost some weight. The guys think it's just one of my "fat crisis" so they keep telling me to eat. They say things like "You're not fat, now start eating again James or we'll force it down!" or "How can you think your fat when you've got washboard abs?". It gets a little annoying and on some days, the bad ones, I just feel like yelling at them to shut up because they don't even know what they're talking about. But on the other hand, I'm glad they're drawing their own conclusions and not asking me tons of questions about what's wrong. That saves me from making up another series of lies. Thank god for my egotistical act I put on all the time.

It's easy for them to think I'm just fretting over my looks and body when I constantly fidget with my hair or I'm checking myself in the mirror. There was a time when I really was that egotistical actually. Not too long after we got signed with Gustavo I started playing myself up in my head thinking I was going to be this big sexy boy in a band. But some how I found myself again which is a good thing because egos kill 99% of bands, it's true I read it in a magazine.

Anyway, my exercise routine however has rapidly increased. Seems like every free moment I get away from doing silly stuff with the guys I'm doing some kind of toning or cardio. It's like my therapy in a weird sort of way. Is that weird? I just feel better after I exhaust myself through physical labor. Ha, that's what she said. I love real active days cuz all the running around keeps my mind busy and makes me so tired I sleep through the night.

I'm still having the occasional Kendall dreams. At least the only ones I remember during the breif times I sleep are of him. The rest is nothing but a solid black space which given what it could be, I think I'll take the blackness. Sometimes, again on bad days, I just want to lay down and crawl into that dark space...or get forever stuck in a dream with Kendall. It's so peaceful there. Although with the way my life's been going lately even that could some how turn into a nightmare.

There's an impossible thought, Kendall in a nightmare...

Ugh, I got an e-mail from mom a few minutes ago saying that since I've got the spare time she wants me to try to go out there and visit her. I secretly added and dad when I read it, but of course she wasn't going to say anything about me going up to his house. I really don't want to go though because things between them have only escalated and I really would just rather ignore them completely. I still haven't gotten a call from my dad since the first one when I got his side of the whole fight. I have no clue how he'd dealing with all of this or what he's been up to or anything. On the other side mom is pretty much smothering me! I swear she calls at least once a day and I usually wind up ignoring her calls more often. I don't even really listen to the voice mails she leaves because I can't stand to hear the disgusting happiness drip in every word she says.

I can't stand to hear her recalling the past with my father because she makes it sound like she was some poor miserable abuse victim. And while I know that sometimes my dad gets a little aggressive when he get utterly peed off but he never took his anger out on a person, only on inanimate objects like slamming a cabinet. I don't know the way the relationship was once I moved out here with the guys but she had life really good with him. He bowed down at her feet and gave her everything she wanted just to try to get her to smile. And she absolutely knew it and took advantage of it every time she possibly could too. Now looking back I can see how many times she took advantage of that love. She had him wrapped around her slimy little finger.

I noticed a lot of faults, mostly with my mother, when I look back on my childhood now. It's amazing how distorted things are when your young and innocent! Take for instance their fights they would get into, it seems as though they almost always started because of mom bitching about something completely insignificant. She's extremely manipulative and whenever I overhear her talking to her church friends about a fight she had with dad she would twist or place words to make herself sound like Little Red Riding Hood and dad like the big bad wolf.

Oh, she reveled in the attention too! I swear she got off every time she heard someone say you poor thing and she loved the drama she got with every story she wove to entertain her little stuck up friends. She's turned her life into one of those soaps that I'd always see her watching religiously. But I just wanna say this to her: I'm sorry mom, but this is the real world and if you keep on your destructive path the only thing you'll end up being is a lonely, bitter, old hag. (Not that she's not too far from it already.)

Ugh, I need to stop talking about this right now. The bile is steadily rising in my throat and my control over my urge to just destroy something or punch something is slipping away with every second I spend thinking about this. So, I guess I'm going to go work out probably and then take my shower.

Well, there you go guys. Hope that makes up for the shorter one I posted before this. , I didn't realize just how short it actually was until I uploaded it. But like I said, at least I think I said, not all journal entrees are long. This was actually two different ones but the first one was too short so I decided to combine them. Plus it goes with the whole "am I dragging this story out to much" qualm that I'm having right now. So please review with your input!