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03/01 Direct Link
So I did.

I jumped off, just as the sun was taking its final bow behind the horizon, like a magician.

Or was it nothing like a magician? Did I simply instill this meaning upon it? It probably went down in the same way that it does every day.

My rock looked on, whilst I fell.

I enjoyed the sensation. It meant that all my little worries had been superceded by one large one. Namely, if there was an afterlife, because all that I craved was a sweet, simple nothingness. An elimination of all conciousness.  
03/02 Direct Link

I have decided to give up sarcasm for lent.

It has not been going well.

Mostly, it is my kind and lovely friends who try and make me sarcastic.

I try. I honestly do. I analyse every sentence before I speak and, just when I think I'm safe, it slips out. Like casual racisim. Or cracker jokes.

I do want to stop. I want to be nicer to people, to show them that I do care, I really, really do. Honest.

I think it's sad than no one thinks I will be able to do it. It doesn't reflect well.

03/03 Direct Link
The sensation of falling was rather wonderful. It was as if...I was no longer in control, and therefore could not be blamed for the outcome.

Unfortunatly, this was short lived. I stopped. Right in the air.

An appiration appeared beside me. He was wearing a black hood.

'Are you death?' I asked, 'Only, I was expecting to meet you when I hit the rocks.'

'No. I'm not death.' He gave me a black, butterfly smile. 'No. You want to die?'

'I do.'

'Well. I'm here to show you what life would have been like had you never been born.'
03/04 Direct Link

-You know what?'

-What?

-My soul is empty.

-Please stop being depressive. You know I don't like you being depressive. Monday is your day allocated to depressiveness. Today is Friday.

-No, seriously. It's empty.

-Just because you feel that you are not good enough for anyone, or should I say, someone, does not mean your soul is empty.

-It is. have a look.

-A look at what?'

-My soul. Here.

*Takes the soul and shakes it*

-I hear something rattling inside.

-Yeah. That's a piece of sweetcorn.

-What?

-Don't ask. Apart from that, it is empty.

-You're right. It is.

03/05 Direct Link
'That's a bit...cliched. Seeing everyone distraught won't make me change my mind.'

He gave another grin, stretched across his face like a lazy cat.

'And what makes you think that everyone is distraught?'

I wasn't sure how to reply to this. I knew people cared about me, in the same way that I knew black holes existed. I'd never seen proof, but enough important people said it must be so, so it must, in my mind, be so.

My mind came up with the most scathing answer I could think of.

'Because...'

Occassionaly, my mind does let me down.
03/06 Direct Link
I have a plan.

The plan is cunning. It is simple and it is beautiful.

I am going to try and prolong the day I have to go to work for as long as possible.

If I could, I would stay in education for the rest of my life. Just learn new things every day. Not necessarily useful. Just knew knowledge.

I imagine work to be rather boring. If this is not the case, please let me know.

I'm like a five year old. I need constant stimulation, otherwise my mind would just...Hey! Look, it's a butterfly! 
03/07 Direct Link
'Where are we?'

I understood that this statement was expected of me.

'Hawai.'

'What're we doing here?'

'Look.'

...And I saw my parents, laughing togther outside. They were happy.

'Yes, they are. You see, without you, they don't have to pay for extra clothes or music lessons or school trips. Now, they can enjoy themselves.'

'But they're not happy. I mean, not really.'

'They are. In fact, they never stop smiling.'

'...My dad just started a conga. My dad would never start a conga.'

'Not with you alive. But now...well, he enjoys life. Instead of wasting it with you.'
03/08 Direct Link
I love it when the sun comes out. It feels like the end of hibernation.

It makes me want to spin around until all the colours blend into one. I want to do backflips. I want to take your hand and waltz you down the pavement, laughing to the songbirds.

It makes me want to run through a cornfield naked, and if I couldn't be arrested for it, I would.

The sun brings a smile, and the promise of lying in the grass, listening to jazz records. Of reading books and pretending it's english revision.

Of spending time with you.
03/09 Direct Link
The image of my happy parents had disturbed me, somewhat. I was sure that this was not how things were meant to happen.

'Ready to see more?' The appiration said, still with his dark, butterfly smile.

I simply nodded.

The world shifted. We remained still whilst it moved around us. I suddenly knew where I was.

'This is my school.' I said, idiotically.

'It is. Look over there.'

I looked over there. Over there was my best friend, walking with someone that I had never seen before. Both were laughing hard, to the point that I thought they would collapse.
03/10 Direct Link

I passed my driving test today.

I can now escape from this funeral parlour. I can drive around Europe in a camper van, busking and playing chess as I go. I can take a trip to London at any time.

No longer do I have to rely on the the transport of others. I will ride where ever the mood takes me, where ever the car takes me. I do not have to be pinned down in one place. I am free! Free as a bird!

...If only I could afford a car.

...Or insurance.

...Or, for that matter, petrol.

03/11 Direct Link
'Who's he with?'

'The boy who was able to come to sixth form instead of you. Had you been alive, he would have been rejected. Now, he's been accepted.'

I just looked on. My friend was crying with laughter. The...thing continued talking.

'He's very popular, by all accounts. Works hard in lessons, kind to everyone around him. Quiet, but not annoyingly so. People love being around him.'

'So...no one misses me?'

'How could they? They don't know you.'

'They seem...happier.'

'Yes. They do.'

'Happier than they are with me.'

'Yes.'

'I never made him cry with laughter.'
03/12 Direct Link

Leisure - re-written (and therefore much, much worse) 

What is life, but full of work,
We have no time to stop and shirk?-

No time to read or write or play,
Not if education has its way:

No time to watch the sky at night,
To see the stars emit their light:

No time to hold Beauty's hand,
And dance with Her throughout the land:

No time to see Her mouth turn to a smile,
No time to see Her eyes shine for awhile:

A poor life this if, full of work,
We have no time to stop and shirk.



03/13 Direct Link
'Where are we now?'

'I should have thought you would recognise it.'

'Ah...'

It was the cliff. The place where I had thrown myself into what I had hoped was oblivion.

'Why are we here?'

'Just a second ago, a woman came up here to kill herself.'

'What happened?'

'A stranger came along and talked her out of it. However, had you been alive, you would have offered this stranger a lift home, and the woman would have died.'

'So by trying to do good, I...'

'Just end up making everything worse.'

'So just by existing...'

'You make everything worse.'
03/14 Direct Link
'For love is not the binding of fair lips/With the soft silk of eyes that look and long,/By Joy, whose ribbon slips,-/But bound with war's hard wire whose stakes are strong' - Wilfred Owen

I can't help thinking that Owen's wrong. There is always the trouble of over-romanticising love, but then too, there is the danger of treating it with no reverence.

Of course, his experiences of the war affect his opinions, and rightly so. Can love survive amongst the horror?

But love can be the binding of fair lips. A reminder that, here and now, we're alive.
03/15 Direct Link
The world moved again. This time, we were nowhere. A space, empty even of darkness. My mind found it difficult to comprehend, so gave up and started trying to figure out what to worry about next.

I refused to say 'Why are we here?' I have some pride.

'This is just a little stop. To allow you to gather your thoughts.'

My thoughts were refusing to be gathered, like sheep who had just been let out of the pen and tasted freedom for the first time.

Of course, making this metaphor meant that I could now only think about sheep.
03/16 Direct Link
I have developed a deep love of the webcomic 'Buttercup Festival'.

The sheer...strangeness of the ideas. The wonder of nature. The characters. It seems to resonate with my personality.

Also, the drawings are beautiful. It has made me wish that I was good at art, so that I could buy myself some inks and start drawing myself.

The protagonist looks like death, but acts like a teenager. Searching for truth and meaning to his life, enjoying the small pleasures that come his way. Flying through the clouds, reading to ducks.

That's my kind of person. My kind of ideas.
03/17 Direct Link
The figure turned to me.

'Can you guess who we're going to see now?'

All thoughts of sheep bounced out of my mind. Of course I knew who we were going to see. It was the next logical step.

I would see her, and she would be happier. Far happier. She would have someone who could make her laugh all the time, show her how much she meant to her, make her feel cherished.

I want her to be happy. I do. So, if life without me makes her happier, I should be happy for her. I should, shouldn't I?
03/18 Direct Link
I have never been good at conversations, as you probably gathered. I like to think I'm better at writing. So...

You are not, as you so eloquently put it, a 'retard'.

Despite what maths teachers will tell you, maths is not important. Not unless you want to sound smart around other mathmaticians.

If the paper flowers were carried by the wind to a piece of soil, it's perfectly possible that they would be ingested by worms, turned to fertiliser and used to help real plants grow.

You don't embarass yourself. You are you, which is the perfect person to be.
03/19 Direct Link
'Are you ready to see?'

I was ready.

I punched the thing in the face. For a blessed second, that butterfly smile flew away.

It's selfish and egotistical, I know, but I wanted her to be happy with me. Just me. So I punched it. Then, because I had no other plan of action, I punched it again.

I was rather surprised that I was able to hit it. Even now, it seemed to give off a quality of not-quite-being-there. Touching what you thought was a ghost is not a pleasant experience.

Punching it was satisfying, though.
03/20 Direct Link
-Would you just look at them?

-I know, look at them!

-I mean, who do they think they are?

-Precisely! Who are they?

-I know we're only bushes, but...come on.

-True, I mean, come on, we're only a bush.

-Making contact. How dare they make contact? In public!

-In public! It's shocking.

-It's shocking!

-It's disgraceful!

-It's disgraceful!

-It's horrific!

-It's horrific!

-Walking around like two...people.

-It's just not right.

-No, it's not.

-If I could actually talk, I would tell them what I thought of them.

-Yes. Tell them what we thought of them.

-Disgusting.

-It is.
03/21 Direct Link
Unfortunatly, my feeling of pleasure did not last long. Having recovered from my somewhat feeble attack, the thing started to grow.

It spread, like a cloud of flies filling the room, buzzing in anger and malice.

Unable to do anything, I sank to me knees as the thing engulfed me. The most horrific of thoughts entered my head. Whatever self-esteem that had managed to survive was driven out, to be replaced with feelings of uselessness and fear.

I was useless. I was pathetic. I deserved nothing and no-one. I should end up alone. I should never be happy.
03/22 Direct Link
And so it goes.

In every heart there is a room
A sanctuary safe and strong
To heal the wounds from lovers past
Until a new one comes along

I spoke to you in cautious tones
You answered me with no pretense
And still I feel I said too much
My silence is my self defense

And every time I've held a rose
It seems I only felt the thorns
And so it goes, and so it goes
And so will you soon I suppose

But if my silence made you leave
Then that would be my worst mistake
So I will share this room with you
And you can have this heart to break

 
03/23 Direct Link
Just as I was about to surrender my soul to be destroyed, where I would lose myself in the horror for all eternity, the thing suddenly withdrew.

Instead, a bright light shone around, to the point that it was perfectly painful, even with my eyes closed.

After a while, it receded slightly and I risked opening my eyes. There, standing before me, was the most perfect person I had ever seen.

I couldn't determine whether they were male or female. Their features seemed to fit both. All I could do was stare at this new appiration, waiting for something unknown.
03/24 Direct Link
I think now is the time to play Paolo Nutini.

It reminds me of last summer. Whenever my neighbour needed some gardening done, I would put on some scruffy clothes and listen to him on my mp3. I would cut the edges of the grass to 'coming up easy' and shape bushes to 'pencil full of lead'.

It has come to the point that I can't listen to him during the winter. It just...doesn't seem right. It has too many memories of sunshine and the smell of green.

Now, however, is the time to listen to him once again.
03/25 Direct Link
I was at this point rather bemused.

'What just happened? Who are you? Where am I? Am I even alive? Is what I saw real?'

The new appiration looked at me.

'Which one would you like me to answer first?'

I thought for a second.

'The first one.'

'You were attacked. And then, I came along, and you were no longer being attacked. Now which question?'

I thought again.

'I have another one.'

'Go on.'

'What is that?' I said, pointing to the dark being cowering in the corner.

'That? Well, that is Fear.'

I was too tired to argue.
03/26 Direct Link
A few, fragmented thoughts:

Hastily planted things never grow properly. I'll take more care next time.

I've never really understood the point of getting drunk. The lack of control would terrify me.

I hate old people's homes. Row upon row of the elderly sitting in chairs, staring ahead vacantly. It makes me shiver.

Speaking of drunkeness, I'm pretty sure I would be an angry drunk.

You cannot microwave toast.

The ice-cream man has just turned up outside my house. It is cold and dull. This is optimisim in its purest form.

When I am old, I shall be lively.
03/27 Direct Link
'That's Fear?'

'Yes.'

'With a capital 'F'?'

'Yes.'

I thought again.

'But what I saw. That was all real?'

The new appiration smiled.

'Possibly.'

That was not what i had wanted to hear. It continued.

'Then again, possibly not. All that fear showed you was what you fear.'

'Obviously.'

'Quite. had you not existed, who's to say that that would not have been the new reality. However, by the same token, you not being born could have made the world a worse place. You can't know, because you have been born. This is the reality. Nothing else matters. Never has.'
03/28 Direct Link

I came to you with an awkward and embrassing problem.

I appreciated the advice you gave.

A while later, I found out something, and my awkward and embarassing problem evolved into an awkward and embarassing situation.

This was exhasberated by the fact that I am awkward, and get easily ambarassed.

Now, I feel even more awkward and embarassed about the whole situation.

Then again, I am probably making mountains out of molehills, and worrying too much and thinking too much and just not letting things happen too much.

Sorry if this made you feel guilty. It wasn't my aim. Honest.

03/29 Direct Link
I wasn't fully cheered by this, but at least it was better than having my soul destroyed.

'What happens now?'

'Well, that's up to you. When this all started, you were throwing yourself of a cliff. Do you want still want to do that?'

'No. No, I don't. I want to make this a reality where people are happy that I'm here. I want to...do better.'

'Good.'

'And what happens to him?'

I pointed at Fear, heaped up in the corner like a dirty dish cloth.

'Him? Well, he'll always be around. You just have to deal with him.'
03/30 Direct Link

I have a feeling that I will fail my saxophone exam.

I am not good at orals. I can't sing, or listen to a piece of music and determine modulations, cadences, or the chords that it changes to.

My scales are...well...pathetic.

My piece are better. But then, that's not hard.

I can sight-read, but that's only through years of not praticing.

On another note, the person next to me is finding this, and by this, I mean this period, dull.

It says a lot for my company. Nothing good.

And now, back to a familiar theme. Sleep.

03/31 Direct Link
***

'...I could jump off. Right now.'

'...'

'Who would care. I mean, honestly?'

'...I would.'

'You know what, rock? That actually makes me feel better.'

'I hoped it would.'

'I think I've been being a bit too depressive recently. I mean, people do care about me. They do.'

'That's what I've been telling you all along.'

'I think...I think it's time to show them how much I appreciate them.'

'So do I.'

'I've been too selfish.'

'You have.'

'And now it's time to change.'

'It is.'

'Let's go home. We can back a cake.'

'Good idea.'

'A great big cake.'