bloodyrockgod | Entries tagged with diary entry

I need to get out of here. Just away from it all, the drama and the gossip and the intrigues. I need to breathe different air.

I just want to go home.

But there's no where to go.

Current Mood: depressed

LXXVII

Never, forever . . . they do not concern me. Victory
leaves a vanishing footprint in the sand.
I live a bedeviled man, disposed, like any other,
to cherish my human affinities. Whoever you are, I love you.

The peddling and plaiting of thorns is not my concern, and many know
this. I am no weaver of bloody crowns. I fought with the frivolous
and the tide of my spirit runs full; and in sober earnest,
my detractors are paid in full with a volley of doves.

Never is no part of me; because I am I with
a difference: was, and will always be so; and I speak
for the pureness of things in the name of my love's metamorphoses.

Death is the stone into which our oblivion hardens.
I love you. I kiss happiness into your lips. Let us
gather up sticks for a fire. Let us kindle a fire on the mountains.

--Pablo Neruda

you're not perfect
but you're perfect enough

you're perfection
a past taken inside you
washing me clean

but me, I'm selfish

You're a believer,
older than time, faithless to none
maker of words

but me, I'm selfish

learn a bit more about fighting/monster-slaying (Buffy?)
weapons? will need weapons (Joe?)
magic--may need magical help, Big&Scary being invisible and all (lots of magical people around here)
get back to island. (How? Don't know yet . . .)

David is my beloved. Bartleby is a stór mo chroí. And I can't be with either of them.

~~Unless I can have them both.~~

I have not wanted to get stoned so much since Moiraine healed me as I do tonight. Just to not be me for a while.

I spent the night lying awake, holding Bartleby and thinking about Tye.

There's something very wrong with this.

Here I am: I've got my angel that I wanted since the first night we met, he wants me too, he's happy, I'm happy . . . and I still can't stop thinking about Tye.

I'm a sick, sad person.

It's just the music. I keep telling myself that. It's just the music. ~~How handsome Tye is has nothing to do with it.~~ Bartleby's a stór mo chroí, there's no reason for me to be looking at another man.

~~Except . . . Tye. Beautiful Tye.~~

Bloody hell.

Current Mood: confused

[ooc: post the end of the OTP]

I should feel . . . more than this.

I'm sad. I'm disappointed. But mostly I just feel numb.

It's finally and truly over and there's nothing more to say.

Current Mood: sad

[ooc: post homecoming sweetness and more breakup drama]

I can't take another fight.

Okay. I fucked up. I know this. I'm aware. I feel appropriately guilty and I thought the best thing to do was leave David for someone who can be true to him.

So why does he keep begging me to come back?

Coming home to Bartleby is like coming in out of a storm. He's peace. He's gentleness. Bartleby is never going to make me cry.

There are things I miss about David and I wish we could be friends, but I don't see it happening. He's an all-or-nothing kind of man, and my all is going to Bartleby.

All this is only compounding the feeling of failure post-quest. We all made it home, but no one seems especially happy with the result. And everything is just like before: I don't feel any different. I don't feel changed. I still don't feel like a hero.

And I still miss my brother.

Current Mood: gloomy

[ooc: post this]

I broke up with David for good today.

So, of course, I'm now Bound.

Yeah. All there is to say about that.

Current Mood: crushed

[ooc: once again, borrowing, as my songwriting skills are virtually null. Beloved by VNV Nation.]

My beloved do you know
When ~~spring~~ the warm winds comes again
Another year will ^{start to} pass
Please don't ask me why I'm here
Something ^deeper brought me
That I need to remember

Eternity ~~waits for us~~ awaits

Moments lost though time remains
I am ^still proud of what we were
No pain remains
No feeling

My restless soul is longing ~~for~~

We were ^{once young and} blessed with wings
No ~~place to high to reach~~ heights could keep us from their reach
No ^sacred place we did not soar
Still greater things burned within us

I don't regret the choices that I've made
I know you feel the same

beautiful destruction

the poetry of the way things fall apart

fallen messiahs and dead gods

the way our bodies joined

let you go to my head
let you under my skin
let you believe you loved me

my love is always a lie

"to our love send a dozen white lilies"

Current Mood: sad

So, in the never-ending soap opera that is my life, I've fucked up the best thing I've ever had.

For a very good thing, but still.

It's not about love with Loki and I think we both understand that. I hope we do. My heart and soul belong to David. My body has other ideas. And gets the majority vote.

Current Mood: crushed

what I know about the Landlord

-- no one can see him. Richard is quite emphatic about that.
-- he's not God
-- but he knows God (the arrangement re: Bartleby?)

That's . . . not a lot.

Questions I have about the Landlord

-- Does he decide who comes here?
-- Does he decide who's Bound?
-- What's his purpose in gathering us here? (Because I see no rhyme nor reason to it: powerful people like Moiraine and the folks like me--good and evil and indifferent)
-- ~~what if there is no purporse~~
-- If the Bar's making David more human, why isn't it affecting the other vampires here? (Is it?)

And one more thing:
Can I go home, really home, from here? Or only back to the island? ~~Because I want to go home.~~

Things I'm ~~fairly~~ certain of
-- There is a Landlord
-- No one knows anything more about it

Current Mood: curious

Starving.

Richard said he was starving!

I want to say it's bullshit but David hasn't been to his home for days and hasn't fed an anyone here. And I thought the blood substitute was enough to sustain him.

Obviously not.

I don't know what to do. I don't know what he needs.

Except the one thing I'm afraid to give.

Current Mood: worried

It's just a ring.

I've worn rings before. I'm wearing one now.

But it's heavy with meaning and while I don't want to take it off, I'm not sure I can keep it on.

We have to talk about this.

I just don't know what I should say.

Current Mood: confused

[ooc: post this conversation with Moiraine and Will Stanton]

Charlie sits by the window, his notebook open in the early-morning light. He has written little. He draws the curtain closed so that the dawn won't disturb David, and writes in the semi-gloom.

He is my heart and my love and I don't know him at all. I know his body. I am well-acquainted with his body. But if I ask myself What does he want, what does he love? I don't know the answer.

Aside from "me", anyway.

~~I hate wondering if that's even true.~~

I couldn't love or desire him more. But I've been asking myself this morning if I weren't just so relieved after Bartleby helped me that I would have gone to whoever showed me some kindness.

He stares at the page, then rips it out and crumples it up, and tosses it into the wastepaper basket in the bathroom. He kicks off his shoes and falls onto the mattress beside David, and pulls the vampire to him. He kisses his hair.

"I don't care, I don't care," he murmurs fiercely.

Current Mood: distressed

[ooc: post Music Night]

He's sleeping.

He sleeps from sunup until sundown, which works out to about nine hours most days.

While he's sleeping he doesn't move. He hardly seems to breathe. I know he can't die--I know there are ways he could be killed but he's not going to just die in the middle of the night--but still I'll put my hand on his chest to feel him breathing or his heart beating or something to tell me we'll have one more day together.

But he always wakes up once the sun is down. We have one more day. We talk, we make love, I play for him or read what I've written, he tells me what he's working on . . . it's good. It's so good. It's fun and simple and passionate and I'm so happy I don't know how I can stay this way.

We agreed one day at a time but I still wonder about the future. Someday I may have to go home. And then what will I do? What if I can't come back?

Current Mood: contemplative

Pros:

--Live forever
--stay young forever
--be with David forever
--the vampire gifts: strength and persuasion etc
--could still be a singer, look at Lestat

Cons:
--feeding on blood
--never seeing daylight again
--vampire hunters
--the undead issue

If he offered I don't know what I'd say. ~~I want to say yes but~~ As long as I can have David without changing--can I have David, can I keep David this way?

Charlie writes.

There were things I dreamed of when I was a kid. A house with no yelling, for example, no heavy footsteps on the stairs. Having plenty to eat and always being warm. Never having to escape, never having to clean my brother's blood from the wall.

There were things I dreamed of when I grew up. Millions of people shouting my name and singing my songs--and somehow that all degenerated into drugs and sex and meaninglessness. Oblivion comes when you just stop thinking and I stopped. Everything.

He wakes me up inside. He makes me scrawl down words that make no sense until they're taken as a whole, and he makes me hear music in my head. It's this place but it's also him. I never dreamed of this but I don't know how I lived without it--if I was really living before today.

My name is Charlie, but as of tonight I am also Beloved.

Liam would kick my arse if he ever reads this.

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bloody rock god

a milliways_bar journal

Entries tagged with diary entry

journal entry

transcribed into Charlie's notebook

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scribbled between musical notes and a laundry list

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Charlie writes

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