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May the 27th, 2005
@ 8:51am]
[ mood | determined ]

It's hard, of course it's hard, but I think I may be coming to terms with it.

I have realized the reality of what happened to Stephen, and I can say his name without stumbling. I haven't tried filing through old memories yet...I'm not quite as brave as Whitney. However, I have had quite a bit of time to think about it in the past couple days.

I remember when Whitty first introduced us. We were both shy (can you imagine that?), and he was having girl troubles (my, how things change!). I tried to help him. Heh, I probably failed, but in the end, I gained a...boyfriend? How silly.

It's easy to say we seemed so young then; we were. Giddy as always, I toted his photo with me at all times, kept it in my back pocket until it was so worn down, you could barely discern his face. On the back were words from "our song." Wasurenaide tooku e hanarete mo itsudatte aishiteru yo. (Don't forget...even if we're far apart, I will always love you.)

The words have been coming back in the past two days, along with every type of love that I associated with him.

Yes, there was the romantic, which seems so silly to think back on now. But it was perfect. He was my mùirn beatha dàn. In a way, he still is, though the meaning has shifted slightly.

And then we were friends. There was a friendly love that kept us connected, though I had a difficult time dealing with the split. It was hard to see him in love with someone else, when I still loved him like I knew I shouldn't.

We kept going, though, as it sometimes seemed only he knew how to do. There was comfort in everything he said and everything he did. And, surely, he passed that to me, too.

Our friendship grew tighter, and there was an inseperable bond between us. He was my brother, my teacher, my peer, but above all this, he was my best friend. Often, it seemed our lives mirrored each other. Our highs and lows fell on the same line. In this, we were able to support and love each other unconditionally. I tried so hard to offer him the meaningful words he provided me, but most of the time it simply ended up as empathy.

Stephen was always encouraging me (I was not the only one, as I'm quickly seeing) to learn. He instilled an intense passion for languages in me, and was constantly pushing that to grow. Last year, he sent me a graduation invitation, his senior picture, and four language books -- Japanese, Russian, Italian, and Irish. Stephanie has the Italian one right now, and I sincerely hope it helps her. I almost feel like I could pass his passion through these books. I keep staring at the tape in the first chapter of the Irish book and laughing. I remember when he tried to scan the first chapter for me so he could help me learn Irish, but only ended up breaking the binding. We laughed for quite some time over that, and he ended up calling the book "Miki's Irish Book." I will be learning Gaelic this summer and next semester. I'm not sure I ever got the chance to share the news with him, but I know he'd be proud. He always was.

We had this whole trip planned. Our escape plan. We were going to travel to Europe, and visit so many places together, and find a nice place to live. Together, of course. It's easy to look back and say we always planned to be together and break down now, thinking how it won't happen. But, strangely, I feel slightly comforted. We always planned to be together forever, and I know we will. It's not the memories, or the loss of a body, the loss of a friend, a brother, a companion, a teacher, nor anything else he was to me that allows me to know he will always be with me.

Instead, it is the love he taught me to feel. Stephen showed me all forms of love, and it was through him that I learned exactly how love should feel in its many forms.

The loss of him has allowed me to realize how foolish I have been lately. I know now how crucial it is to love (as illogical as it may seem at times), and the only way I will be able to help him live is to do my very best to show the love he showed me to others.
And, should I ever feel the intense love I felt from Stephen again in this lifetime, I will know he is near.

Aishiteru, Stephen. Always and forever.


May the 26th, 2005
@ 8:39pm]
[ mood | morose ]

God, this is hard. I keep hearing, It's all so unreal. I can't believe it happened. Is there anything I can do?

And it seems everyone wants to hug me.

But every touch makes me shudder and I feel like throwing up. No, it's not unreal. It happened. There's nothing you can do. Make me a fucking time machine so I can tell him not to get in that car. Not now. Wait five minutes. Wait ten minutes. Wait an hour.
I tried to eat a piece of pizza today, and choked. I started crying while eating a fucking piece of pizza.

Everyone's talking about the empty space he left. It'll never be filled.

Well, what I've got right now is a big, empty life. An empty life and his books and four phone calls to a dead cell phone that will never be returned.


May the 26th, 2005
@ 11:18am]
There are so many things I want to know. I want to know how Whitney's doing, and I want to know how Stephanie's doing, and I want to know that the ceremony was just as beautiful as it needed to be. I want to know what songs were played, and I want to know exactly what happened.

And I want to know if anyone has found a way to pick up the pieces yet. It seems so daunting a task, I'd rather just leave them where they are.

Everything is still so scrambled in my head. I keep staring at my monitor, hoping by opening Google over and over and over again, somehow the right answer will be there. Instead, all I have is a flashing cursor in Google's search bar and every copy of the article that can't seem to lie to me and tell me it didn't actually happen.

Whitney called last night. I'm scared to call her back. I need to know, and I definitely need to check on her, but I'm still inexplicably scared. I'm scared that all those stupid tangles of phone lines and satellites won't be able to send any of the right words.

I'm looking for your magic words, Stephen. You know you always had them. I'm wondering if maybe they left with you.

Onii [Wednesday
May the 25th, 2005
@ 10:58am]
I knew it when you said you needed me to contact you. I knew something awful had happened. I just didn't think it was that.

Or maybe I didn't want to believe it was that.

I feel like throwing myself off a building would be pleasing. I feel like meticulously carving my inner organs out would be a good feeling.

Whitney, thank you for thinking of getting the news to me. Call me some time, I need to know how you are doing. I need to know if...god, I don't even know what I need. Just call me, please.

Nothing could have prepared me for this. Nothing could have prepared me to lose my best friend and my brother. I thought I couldn't feel anything, but apparently I can.

And now I desperately wish I couldn't.

May the 25th, 2005
@ 2:56am]
[ mood | numb ]

Another good night, but I can't say I'm happy right now. I'm not.

One song he played...it hit right where it hurts. Even though I was crying, and even though each word seemed to pull at me just a little harsher, I didn't want that song to end. It moved me past the point of coherent thoughts.

Excess BaggageCollapse )

I am quickly learning that perhaps I am simply meant to be everyone's secret. That's okay. I have nothing left to feel.


Lame Squee Update [Tuesday
May the 24th, 2005
@ 6:15pm]
[ mood | eager, but still aggravated ]

Excited. Still frustrated and pissed off, but very excited.

I just found out a film version of RENT is being released, and Idina Menzel (♥♥♥) will be playing her original role, Maureen Johnson. It probably won't be released until the end of the year, but I'm already anxious for its release.

Now, if only I could find some orchestra seats for Wicked.

(For those who really don't care, here is a little interesting tidbit for your enjoyment:
In the 2000 production, The Wild Party, Idina Menzel was a part of the cast which also included none other than Taye Diggs.)


May the 24th, 2005
@ 5:13pm]
[ mood | frustrated ]

Rant time.

I need another car. Hardcore. I put $30 of gas in the car the other day, and I haven't even SEEN in it two days. I've been sitting here, rolling around, foaming at the mouth, wanting so badly to get out of the house, but I can't because I don't have fucking transportation. And when I finally get to use the car, it won't have gas, because my brother will have used the $30 I put in to drive to and from golf practice in fucking NEW GLARUS and not bothered to put any more in. I'll probably also have to check and fill the oil, because he can't seem to do that either. If the bus came near my house, I'd simply use that, but we don't get buses in The Bumfuck Middle of Nowhere, Wisconsin. My mother is going to my stupid little cousins' soccer game tonight, so I can't use the Soccer Momobile, either. Which means I'm stuck here for a longer time.

I mowed the lawn today for my dad. THAT is how bored I was. I probably got sunburned something wicked, too, because my pale Irish skin has this intense aversion to the sun. Maybe I'll steal the riding lawn mower and ride into Madison. That'd be cool, I'm sure I could pick up a bunch of hot babes with those wheels.

Chris is coming into Madi tonight, and we were planning to go to this swanky-looking pool hall to play pool, but I don't want to make him drive. He drives all the time in Milwaukee.

Oh, and The Starting Line has a new cd out. But guess who couldn't afford it? Yeah, I have a whole $38 left in my bank account, and no job to speak of. (Yet.) I can't really ask my parents for dinero, either, because I'm not my fuckass little brother. Had I not put that $30 of gas in the car, perhaps I could have gotten that cd today. And Equilibrium! *gasp!*

Oh hell, that's right, I forgot, I'm not supposed to enjoy anything. Jeez, that must have slipped my mind.

FUCK. [Sunday
May the 22nd, 2005
@ 11:55pm]
[ mood | completely fucking lost ]

Nothing feels right here.


May the 22nd, 2005
@ 5:07pm]
[ mood | depressed ]

Nothing can seem to cover it this time. It's always there. It's always tugging my sleeve. It's always lodging an axe in my brain. It's everywhere, all the time. I am no longer in control of anything. It's always fucking there.


May the 19th, 2005
@ 11:57pm]
[ mood | aggravated ]

Bottlers can suck my big, black, juicy cock.
That is all.

May the 19th, 2005
@ 2:09pm]
[ mood | annoyed ]

Image hosted by Photobucket.com

Uh. Yay.

I hope this means my mother will buy me a couple movies. I need some new porn. I mean...Boondock Saints. Same thing, dammit. ><


May the 17th, 2005
@ 6:06pm]
[ mood | exhausted ]

So, yeah. Julia has mono. And, naturally, that means there's a huge chance I could have gotten it from her.
And an even huger chance that Chris could have.
Which gives me an added chance to have gotten it, too.

I don't even care. The part I care about is the fact that my mother will probably drag me into the hospital again where I will probably see another doctor who will try to stick needles in my arm.
He will, inevitably, fail. I have no veins. Oh, but he will try! As will four other nurses. And then they'll bring in a trauma doc who will jab at me until he is satisfied that I do indeed possess zero veins.

And I will bruise. And hurt. But I'll have a cool trophy from the experience to parade around with.
And perhaps I will get stickers.

Stickers. Yesss.
♥ ♥ ♥


May the 17th, 2005
@ 8:50am]
[ mood | almost amused ]

I had a rather vivid dream nightmare last night that I sold my camera and all its accessories to someone for $550, just because I "needed" more money in my bank account.

I have never woken up so suicidal in my life.

May the 16th, 2005
@ 11:51am]
[ mood | always knew i was a pussy ]

It seems everyone's parents are outside my window, carting boxes of goodies to and from cars.

I can't seem to get my mum to come get me out of here. It's a tad disheartening.

My mom didn't send me an exam package. She blamed it on me. I hung up on her. She doesn't love me.


Stupidity is the best cure for insanity [Sunday
May the 15th, 2005
@ 9:05pm]
[ mood | drunk as hell ]

i could compile a list of reasons why this makes me slightly less sane.
perhaps we could talk through it like a tin can phone.
how are you, what's going on?
i know you'd play along.
and you'd pretend to listen.

you wouldn't hear a word i said.

"Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe." [Sunday
May the 15th, 2005
@ 1:56am]
[ mood | numb ]

She can't understand. He can't confront. I can't cope. So I'm saying goodbye to you.

[01:56] Stephen: You cannot make it disappear, you know that.
[01:57] Me: I know. But I can make him disappear.

A chara,

Remember to keep breathing, baby.
An áit a bhfuil do chroí is ann a thabharfas do chosa thú.

Beir bua agus beannacht,

I've been trained to rock your socks off [Saturday
May the 14th, 2005
@ 2:05am]
[ mood | amused ]

I will continue to update here until I'm satisfied that people know of the shift.

So, tonight's cryptic complaint is lame. Not something I should be complaining about, I guess. But...what is it? I must have forgotten to turn off my flashing "Willing Slut" light again or something. The next guy that lays a finger on me, or gets upset when I just want to be a friend is going to feel my heel between his legs very quickly. That is all I have to say on that.

Thank you, Chris, for being a male friend. Christ on a cracker, man, what's up with this?

In other news...
Lame Quizzes are for Cool Kids.Collapse )


May the 13th, 2005
@ 2:16pm]
[ mood | stokerbated ]

Holy top hats, suspenders, and sincere musical talent, Batman! Billy Corgan is coming out with a solo album.

The good news was spread, and much jean creaming ensued.

And now, for something completely different...Collapse )


This entry has no significance, I promise. [Friday
May the 13th, 2005
@ 8:35am]
[ mood | chipper ]

I don't even remember making a post last night. It went bye-bye because it was dumb and emotastic. Just like me. :D

Last night was all the bad and all the good wrapped up in one little confetti package and tossed into the wind.

I didn't sleep Wednesday night because I had to write a paper. I'm probably not even going to pass that class. I got a C on one paper (doubleyou tee hell, people? It was an awesome paper...) and a B on the other (err, still not good enough), I got a solid B+ on the first test, and an even solider F on the other test, I didn't do so hot on the pop quizzes, and even missed one of them, and I wrote this last paper partially in my sleep. So, how are the odds, would you say?
I'll have to take it again. Oh well.

So Thursday was functional. I did award myself the Dumbass Award of the Day, though. (Steph! I got foil stars to give as awards for The Award.)

...There are full soda/beer cans fleeing across the street. That has got to be one of the funniest things I've seen lately. Roll on, little dudes!

Yesterday was our last night with the Peace Nazi, and, dare I say, I might miss her? I know I'll miss the class. We all got so close, it was like a happy little family. During our project, I think she started crying. I was talking about my part of the mural, and reading something I pulled out of my ass last-second (something like, "They say a picture's worth a thousand words. Sometimes I wonder which thousand words my images will be worth. Will they be words of love? Of beauty? Of admiration? Does it even matter? As long as they elicit something...something other than apathy...I know I will have played my part.") and looked over to see her glasses sitting on her desk as she rubbed her red eyes. After we were done, she said, "That was beautiful."
I gave her a hug at the end of class and thanked her, and she said, "Mikaela, you are great. Don't you ever forget that." I was touched, and almost a little upset. It sounded like she was yelling at me. :p
Sorry, Peace Nazi, ma'am! I won't forget I'm great anymore! *salute*

But then I managed to upset Andy. I'm tragically good at that, methinks. Which, oddly enough, is what I told him that made him so upset. He was talking about how he needed more opinionated people like me in his life, and I joked that people like me would fuck him up. I guess that really messed with him.
I apologize for telling the truth. It's what I do.

But Julia and I enjoyed a drink last night. Lime Coke and Malibu. We decided it was almost the last Thirsty Thursday of the year, and we had no intentions of running around, screaming like retards, so we could have a drink together. It was certainly a pleasant night together.
Ahhh, I have to pee. Nah, don't feel like doing it. Maybe tomorrow night.

And then I went to sleep, and my body was sent into some sort of involuntary shuddering orgasmic state that I was actually offering it some sleep. I think it's trying to thank me right now by allowing me to be in a good mood and look forward to today. =)

May the 12th, 2005
@ 12:37am]
[ mood | infuriated ]

Perhaps the "Take the Aggression Out On Your Desk By Repeatedly Stabbing Your Knife Into University Furniture" approach wasn't my wisest idea, but hot damn, it felt good.

If only Julia hadn't confiscated my knife, I'd be doing more of that instead of typing this stupid fucking entry, pretending it's going to solve something. My effects of media violence paper ought to be fun to write when I want more than anything else to be violent.


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