All the world's a stage...

...and I want her to die.

I was SLEEPING ON THE COUCH, YOU BITCH.

And Jack took her side. you whipped bastard.

ARGH

Ereshkigal and I are going outside now. goodbye, cruel apartment.

~*~Abernathy

There's nothing quite so enjoyable as passing on Easter traditions. Melissa and I are spending the holiday together, after I got "permission" from Herself to let the UN run itself for the day.

We'll actually be attending mass tonight, for the first time in--oh, ages. I don't expect her to make it all the way through the services, but she'll try, I'm sure.

Life is looking satisfactory for once. Even after that whole debacle with the Irregulars--who seem to have sorted themselves out by an aborted coup on Poland--Interpol is...succeeding, after a fashion. It's been almost a year and a half now. How the time flies...

...and, as merrycanary has noted, it's been a year since we met. Hm hm hm. I'll need to talk him about that, next I get the chance. Or next he attempts invading the couch in the name of Norway; whatever.

~*~Abernathy
ps: eggs!! melissa is suitably excited about the easter eggs; we spent all last night dyeing them, and now the kitchen smells like vinegar. oh well--better than microwaving forks.
pps: but i promised her we'd do one more of those if she got good grades on her next quarterly report.
ppps: she's been doing well in school, but the teachers seem to object to her, ah, unique way of looking at things. i hate the san angelean school system; we're moving back to russia as soon as i get a free week to do it.

And His justice is everlasting.

Tendered my resignation to McLaren. I don't believe she liked it, or the accompanying offer that I stand trial for my crimes of a year ago.

Just as well. I have better things to do than sacrifice myself on that altar again.

We'll see if I made the wrong choice.

~*~Abernathy
ps: andruw--key's under the mat, if you get to missing the couch while Melissa and I are gone.
pps: pooky--looking for you. red sigil not v. helpful. contact me. we need to talk.

Noise ordinances usually keep things dead silent this time of night, but if one bothers, it's possible to listen a little out the window, to hear the city...

Much of the time it is really just night wind, or the occasional stray thunderclap--rare as California thunderstorms might be. But I saw lightning a time or two tonight and there are clouds to blanket the stars, so a front may be afoot.

It's so quiet. It's so easy to believe at times like this that one might be the only being left on Earth, if it weren't for the occasional sleepy chirping of the pigeons or the hum of a car.

Or the quiet buzz of a hard drive.

Or the radio, betimes.

Otherwise, it's seductively quiet.

I wish it were raining in this part of the city.

I want to go outside; night is one of the few times I can without fear, I want to...

...I couldn't say. Perhaps walk barefoot on the sidewalk, feel the wind on my face. Convince the world I'm crazy.

But they know that, I think.

Do you ever miss human contact?

Oh, rarely, some days. It's an easy sacrifice to make. Most of what I do get is so often someone relying on me, instead of vice versa. We make that sacrifice, when we become leaders. Lord only knows we don't want to lay our burdens on another's shoulders, and convince the world we're untrustworthy.

It always comes back to the world.

The world goes to sleep at this hour, but for the wind and the night owls and the clouds, and the occasional thunderclap, betimes.

It's so quiet, and I wish it would stay that way.

~*~Abernathy

My sage advice on picking a meal, vegetarian or not:

Always choose something that'll taste good coming back up after a round of nightmares.

THAT SAID--hiiiii!!1!1!one

It's been a while, so I suppose you all thought I was dead. Believe me, nothing would make me happier than being erased from this miserable existence, along with Drummerboy and that woman. Alas, 'tis not so, for Fate is a cruel mistress and likes taunting the hell out of poor little Abernathy. And Jack won't let me buy straight razors. Oh, foo.

But he's terribly boring that way and never saw what was interesting about suicide, etc, only what was interesting about killing other people. Alas, we will never be resolved, and I've used alas twice thrice already in this entry. I suck (but only when well-paid).

I have seen a great many terrible and wonderful things in my journeys with only Ereshkigal for company, my group of people who are not friends but morbidly interested in my life ANYWAY. Most of it doesn't bear repeating, though I expect I'll eventually type up these half-cogent napkin notes I was keeping of our progress.

I think I lied about getting back to you in June, but ha ha, I don't care!

Anyway. It all boils down to this:

Bad things happened.
Shit blew up.
People died.
THE END

Oh yes, and we all lived happily ever after, if happily ever after can be defined as I am stuck in this hellhole of an apartment with THAT WOMAN and a very whipped Drummerboy.

She's stealing my makeup again.

Is this all the damn gratitude I get?!

Oh, and guess what? Dad is STILL ALIVE. Good for him; I'm so pleased I'll send him a thank you bomb for screwing up my life.

No, I'm not mad, why do you ask?

~*~Abernathy
ps: ungrateful bastards.
pps: why the hell does it still feel like i'm living overtime?
ppps: perdon, para mi abuela esta en fuego.

Protector

ideals, plz. They never betray you.

~*~Abernathy

Red! Your eyes are red! You're a very distant
person, and you tend to hunger for power. In a
Manga, you'd be the sexy evil villan. Nothing
wrong with that, although you may want to think
about toning down the killing.


I am the sexy evil villain. Don't let anyone tell you differently.

~*~Abernathy

I'm not posting that damned Rune Caster thing. It was ridiculously incorrect, and I don't believe in that kind of tripe, anyway.

This, however, was amusing:



And for some reason, this makes all kinds of sense.

~*~Abernathy
ps: no, i'm not telling you where i am or what i'm up to.

• August 8th, 2003, 10:26 pm

[m3] dammit

Someone please tell me where God got His sense of humor from, because the capricious way He's applying it to my life right now is really pissing me off.

On the one hand, it's all very well and good to be virtuous and have that virtue affirmed, blah de blah. Living by codes of truth, justice, honor, and all that tend to make you well-favored among those who count.

On the other, why the HELL does it feel like I'm the only person left still living the spirit of the ideals, instead of putting on a painted smile and an open hand for the camera?

Screw you. All of you. You two-faced hypocritical bastards.

~*~Abernathy
ps: ooooo! do you know how fun it is to be hospitalized on account of lightning strike + possible punctured lung?!!

• Current Mood

  irate

• August 3rd, 2003, 11:58 am

[m3] love & darkness & my side-arm (pt. 4)

Item one: Repliforce London is kibble. This is a loss that likely won't be recouped any time soon, and it weakens our last hold on Britain. Advise that British citizens prepare for new landlords in the form of Sigma and Doppler.

Item two: Something's wrong in China. This, however, is not new.

Item three: Mexico is back to rioting. This, again, is not new.

Item four: See item one. Reflect on this. Think about how much trouble we're all in.

Item five: Dammit, it's too early in the morning for this.

~*~Abernathy

• Current Music

  Disintegrata - Blood and Light

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