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intraspectiveJune 9th
FOR MY EYES ONLY – PERSONAL & CONFIDENTIAL
…that’s a bit silly isn’t it?
Whatever. I’m allowed to be silly here. So there.
You know what? I don’t even know why I’m trying this. Even I think this is a stupid idea and the only thing that it has going for it is that it’s less stupid than Lana’s idea of writing a letter to Cable-san and letting him read that. What good would that do? Honestly.
My bruises still hurt, you know? And I could heal them but I’m not and that makes me wonder a little if Lana’s right about me just punishing myself but then I realize that that is completely stupid because why should I waste the energy to heal a bunch of bruises when Cassandra’s only going to give me more of them tomorrow?
Which… actually… some people would say is a good reason to heal them but I can’t be bothered even if not being bruised tomorrow might give me a slightly better chance at going up against Cassandra. I’d say win against her, but that’s so not likely that it’s not even worth writing down. Going up and hoping to win against Cassandra is like… is like hoping to win against Deadpool-san or Cable-san.
The only difference is that I can actually hit her some of the time, even when she’s not going so easy on me, and that her bruises won’t heal quickly. They matter. It’s a sign that I managed something. To affect something.
I’d like to be able to do that some of the time, you know? To matter at least a little, even though all the time lately it seems like I can’t do anything right. Even though Liir says otherwise and Dick doesn’t seem to have any objections to how my being his big sister is going. And I don’t think Dick really knows me enough to see the whole… fakeness of me. I hope he doesn’t figure it out. I hope he doesn’t go away if he does. Liir though is so biased that I think I could murder someone in front of him, for no reason, and he’d still say he loves me and in his own way mean it.
I mean, it’s the no reason part of that that bugs me, not the killing thing. Because I could, not that I would mind, but I could and I still don’t think that it would bother me at night if I did. Which, apparently, is Wrong and Bad and… I miss Triela. Cassandra gets it, but Triela’s more like me, I think.
Cassandra still feels bad about killing people. At least, for some of them. Something like that. I don’t understand it but she gets so much else of what I talk to her about that… that doesn’t bother me, you know? I mean, I like having other friends and stuff, but it’s kinda annoying when they’re all Concerned about that sort of thing when it’s not… a big deal.
Yeah. Is that messed up? Maybe? Do I really care? I don’t know. I don’t know much of anything really.
And this is so not why I bought you notebook. But that’s what’s coming out so I guess I’ve got some issues there too? Why not, I’ve got issues everywhere lately.
I’m going to burn you when I’m done writing. When you’re full. Because I don’t want anyone knowing what’s in my head. Because if they know that I’m done for. No point in hiding. No point in smiling. No point in faking it, even if faking it has gone pretty badly lately.
I’m trying. Really I am. It’s just I’ll be fine and then someone will mention something, or another thing will happen and it sends me right back to this spiraly way of thinking that I can’t seem to get out of and running and ignoring the problems don’t seem to work and I don’t know how to make it all work and I’m worried that everyone is just going to throw up their hands and declare me useless and wash their hands of me.
Some days… I think I might deserve it.
I don’t understand why these people keep hanging around, why they keep not going away no matter what I do. I just… don’t get it.
But I’m glad. Some stupid selfish part of me is glad, because they don’t seem to care when I’m not good enough, not strong enough, not smart enough, not calm enough…
Just… not enough.
I want to be enough. More than anything, but how do you figure out that one? What measurements should I use? Who can judge that? Well, I know the answer to that last one and the answer is ‘me’ but at don’t know any of the other answers. Does anyone know the answers? Or is everyone just faking it and it’s just that my mask is broken and they’re all too polite to mention just how much how much I suck is showing?
And? For the last time? It was training not punishing myself. I don’t care what Lana said, except obviously I do because I’m writing about it, but it doesn’t make any sense. To me, anyway. She said that it might be part of the reason why Michael isn’t talking to me. I think he’s just mad about the fact that while we were in the cabins I didn’t see any need to tell him where I was going when I headed out training.
Why does he even care anyway? He shouldn’t. All I did was hurt him. And now I feel like I should be saying sorry to him but I don’t know for what and I hate that about him, always making me feel like I’ve got to be sorry for who I am even though I can’t be anyone else.
If I was someone else though, it’d be easier. Because I’d be enough. I’d be able to make people happy instead of screwing up. I still don’t even know why I challenged Temari for a fight. I knew that I’d lose but she called me weak and…
I guess I am if I walked right into that one so easily, right? It hurt, I think, not so much that she beat me (not that I’m saying a giant freaking metal fan to the side doesn’t hurt because it did) but the fact she sat on me like I was… nothing.
Again. I keep coming back to that one. I don’t want to be nothing, but that’s the only thing I feel like I’m being lately.
I wanted to be strong enough to hit her even once. And I didn’t. I got side-tracked by her clones. Lost sight of the real challenge because the clones were easier. Easier. I don’t want to take the easy way out of things I don’t. Why did I do that? I know enough to ignore unnecessary distractions like that but I didn’t. Why not?
Why does she make me see red when she’s not even talking to me. Why do I feel sick whenever she looks at me? I was here first! This is my place more than hers and—
Hang on, someone’s at the door.
…
Back. That was Dick. He just got back from a trip home. He’s promised to tell me all about it at a later point and I promise to listen because he didn’t even bat an eye when I kinda freaked out on him about being a disappointment to people.
He said I’m not.
I don’t believe him. No, I mean, I don’t believe that I’m not a disappointment to other people. I’m fairly sure that he means it and is telling the truth when he says things like that, but…
He doesn’t speak for anyone else.
I wish I could read minds. Then maybe at least I’d be able to tell what people are thinking about me. So I knew where I stand. I’d like to know that. But people, you know, don’t ever tell you straight out. They’re all ‘of course you matter’, and ‘I believe in you’ when really they could be thinking ‘God, I wish that Ino would just stop whining and leave me alone’ and I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.
I wish people couldn’t read my mind. I haven’t talked to River since I found out she could, you know? And Lieutenant Kerrigan hates me or something, and I know she can read my mind, and that’s… yeah. At least she’s honest about it? I don’t know. I think I prefer that. I make her mad even when I’m not trying to just from the way I think and… I can’t help that. I think how I think. How do you change something like that?
Can you?
Ha. Look at me. Avoiding the one person that I know can read minds that I see the most often. Cable-san.
Want to know a secret? (Does it even matter since you’re just paper and ink and words that no one else will ever read?) Fine, I’ll tell you. Might as well be honest with myself about it.
I’m scared.
Not, like, of him. Not like that. But of the way that he can hear my thoughts and answer them and I never know how much he’s picking up and how much he’s not and I’m scared that he’ll find something in my head that will make him fire me and I don’t want that. I told Cassandra that I didn’t want to quit, and that was the truth, but I don’t want to be fired either. And I’m scared, so scared, that one day I’ll stop measuring up and Cable-san will just give up on me because I’m so useless. Because I’m weak.
And he’s got to know that. He can see inside my head and I can’t keep anything from him no matter if I try and who knows how much he knows? I wish Master Skywalker was here to show me how to learn to block people from getting in my head. It’s my head. If I can’t even be weak between by own ears what am I supposed to do?
I don’t know how to be strong in my own head. Not and mean it. Confidence is key, but all I can do is convince other people—those who can’t read my mind—that I’m confident. I fuck up, I crash and burn, and I’m terrified of people figuring that out.
I want to be the person I try and pretend to be. But lately it’s becoming more and more fake when I try to be her, and it’s easier and easier to knock me back to just… who I am.
Who knows why? I don’t.
There’s so much I don’t know. I don’t know why Lana smiles at me, or why Liir hugs me, or why Michael’s mad at me, or why Cable-san hasn’t just tossed me out already. I’m useless to him. I know it. I’m just… dead weight. I sit at the store, and not even that lately, I just sleep or even leave and it’s so messed up because I know I shouldn’t and then I go and do it anyway. Am I trying to prove something? What?
He says I’m useful, that I’ve got worth. I don’t believe him. He can talk ‘til he’s blue in the face about it (and he won’t because Cable-san doesn’t) and I still won’t believe him. I don’t know the why.
I don’t know why he put a blanket over me, and I know it was him because no one else would’ve known where we keep them in the store, when I was sleeping instead of just waking me up.
But I don’t really matter I guess. Nothing does to him except for the baby. And I don’t think that’s fair either. The baby, sure, the baby is important. But shouldn’t other people be too? It doesn’t have to be all or nothing, right?
… I’m a hypocrite, right? Because it’s always been all or nothing with me. Nice. See notebook, this is what being honest does to you. You complain about what’s bothering you and then realize that you’re the exact same way.
Or, you kn—
…
Kabuto just wrote. Snake delivery service. I’m going to kill him. Night.
June 10th
Ow. I wasn’t kidding about Cassandra packing a punch, you know? I think my bruises have bruises and I’m already going all sorts of interesting colours. But, you know what? It was worth it because I asked her to stop going easy on me.
And she did.
Stop, I mean.
So I’m here, wrapped up in the softest shirt I own (it’s one of Kabuto’s and he’s going to have to fight me for his wardrobe back if he ever gets back) and my hair keeps sticking to my face and it’s almost annoying but I don’t want to tie it back.
Kusanagi keeps staring at me. I don’t know how much of that is just in my head, maybe all of it? But that’s what it looks like he’s doing. Maybe he needs another Andrew-mouse? I’ll have to remember that, and tell Liir. He wanted to be here for the next feeding.
Notebook? Do you think that’s weird? I don’t, but I’m pretty sure a lot of people would think that’s weird. Of course, now I’m asking you for an opinion and that’s pretty pathetic all things considered.
And if you ever answered me back I’d toss you in a fire so quick. Seriously. I don’t want a creepy notebook that can talk to me. I don’t need something with enough brain to talk back to know what’s going on in my head.
Had Justice class today. I don’t know what to think, but there’s not a whole lot of ‘justice’ in it. Just shooting cows, and making snowglobes. That’s good with me. We did ‘stuff’ today. Apparently it’s important.
Who knew?
I don’t know what to write about today. All I did was go to class, help with the renovations, and get beaten up by Cassandra. Dojima’s sent me an email that I’m pretty sure has the pictures I wanted of Romeo but I’m not in the mood to laugh.
I’m not, like, in a bad mood. But I don’t… I just don’t want to laugh? If that makes sense. Does it? I don’t know.
I considered dropping in on Cal today to give him another soap, but I don’t want him thinking it’ll happen too often, but I’ve started carrying around a soap just in case I see him. I’ll toss it at him, because after him mentioning Amber and me chucking them at his head I almost think that he should have something thrown at him at least once. It’s a green rabbit. Pale pale green, you know, like the green they call ‘sea foam’ even though I’ve got no idea what sea foam actually looks like. From a forest here. No seas around to poke at and if Fandom had rainbow sea foam I wouldn’t be surprised because it’s Fandom.
It’s kinda odd to be wondering if we’re okay. Things went a bit weird on Friday and I don’t know all the links that were being said. It’s almost like… we were talking and then he got odd and distant… and then went back to more ‘normalish’ if that makes sense?
But then, you know, maybe everyone gets offended by me and they just don’t show it and I don’t think about it when I’m out in public because that’s the easiest way to be seen as weak. And I don’t even know if I really believe that they do think that, or if it’s just everything else in my head messing me up.
I think though, that I figured out what’s annoying me so much about Temari. Just a little. She’s always, like, on duty. I didn’t come here to be on duty. I don’t want to be reminded of it every time I see her and I am and it makes my stomach upset.
…
I should throw out the cookies Liir gave me two weeks ago. I’m not going to eat them, but I feel bad about it anyway because he’s the one that made them for me. I haven’t been hungry lately. Is that a problem, do you think? Granola bars are pretty much the only thing I’ve been making myself eat outside of some cereal and definitely juice. But anything heavier than that just sits in my stomach and makes me feel sick.
To sum up: Michael’s still not talking to me. Liir and Dick I’m still a-okay with. Lana still smiles at me. And Cable-san is still a giant question mark of ‘who knows?’
And I still feel like a failure. Wow, notebook, you so fail at making me feel better.
June 11th
I brought you to work today! I know, I know, I’m clearly so stupid that I should just drop dead now because I tell you about how I’m scared of Cable-san figuring out how messed up I am (if he doesn’t already know) and then bring you the written evidence of my messed-up-ness to the place where I see him the most.
Have I ever seen him outside of work? If it’s not a life or death thing, I mean?
I know all that. But I did it anyway. Score another point for poor impulse control.
I cleaned today. Maybe it was a bit of an apology for being such an awful employee last week, and maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I was just in the mood to clean. Ugh. Now though I’m writing in you, clearly, and I don’t know how to keep going.
Writing about how I’m so messed up isn’t all that fun for me, you know? It’s hard, and then the pen is flying across the page and I don’t even know if I’m making sense but I can’t take the words back because even if I scribble them out they’re still there and I know what’s under the scribbles. So I don’t scribble things out.
Why should I? You’re my notebook. Keeper of my keys, even if all the keys are only to my head.
I’ve been thinking of writing home to Dad, but I don’t know how to say it. I still can’t find my center when I try to meditate and that seriously creeps me out because I’ve been able to find that since before starting at the Academy.
If I write to Dad though it’ll all come out, I know it, and that’d be the end of me here. Because I know he’d want to know what’s wrong and one of the things that’d come out is that my boyfriend left because he’s a idiot playing around with space-time travel and then he’d be all ‘and whose your boyfriend’ and, and… I’d probably be upset enough to tell him and the moment I said Yakushi Kabuto…
Yeah.
It’d be Bad. So I can’t talk to him. But I can’t really talk to anyone else either, you know? There’s always something I’ve got to hold back and keep from people or can’t figure out a way to explain it so that they don’t stare at me funny.
Good thing you can’t, yeah? I know, I know, next thing I do is that you’ll wind up with a name and then I’ll know that I’ve gone completely around the bend because you’re not supposed to name your notebooks and then talk to them and… see, I am weird.
I’m kinda worried about what Cable-san’s going to say. Is today going to be the day for the Talk he’s promised me? Or no?
Or what? I don’t know. I wish that I had someone to talk to, that I knew wouldn’t make fun of me, or use what I said against me, or do anything with the information I gave them but listen and guard my secrets for me.
I’d say that Liir would, but I don’t want him knowing how messed up I am. How stupidly needy his little sister is when I try to be strong in front of him. He said that he believed in me. I can’t be weak in front of him after that. I considered not showing this coming Sunday for his lesson, but that’d just be weaker I think than what happened last week. Even though it’s going to be a really boring lesson for him.
I’m not sparring with him until I know that I’m not going to mess up and not want to stop again. I can’t take that many people out, but with Liir it’s not even a real contest. He’s learning, but half a year just over doesn’t make up for more than half a life and I’m quicker on my feet than him anyway.
And I don’t think he really wants to hit me. Like, at all. Even though I can deal with it. I wi—
…
That was Cable-san. Sorry for sitting on you, notebook, but drastic times call for drastic measures and I didn’t need or want him to read you. He still asked about you though, and then said he won’t infringe on my privacy, but that’s a lie if I ever heard one. He might not read you, but he’s still got access to my head whenever he wants, right?
I wish he didn’t. I wish he talked more. I wish that his lecture hadn’t been so pointless. Way to tell me what I already knew, Cable-san. And Worf is still a racist ass and I don’t see why I’ve got to be polite to him.
Like, ever.
I’m sorry, but he is. I don’t appreciate being called ‘human’ like it’s an insult. I don’t call him ‘alien’ and I so could, but I don’t. Because then I’d be insulting people like Teddy and Michael and Isabel and that’s just wrong. It doesn’t matter if I’m not getting along with someone, or whatever, I’m not going to insult them like that. Even if they never hear me do it. I’d know I did it.
So. There.
Yeah. Cable-san’s wishing at the stars if he thinks I’m ever going to like Worf. He was annoying before that, but yeah. That? He preaches about honour and duty and shit and I don’t even think he knows what that means.
It’s not honourable to insult someone about their species. It’s not a duty to act like you’ve got a stick up your ass. And I’m not going to listen to someone who doesn’t get that. The second one? Whatever, I can work around. The first one though… I have honour.
The fact that it has got different stripes than his doesn’t make his any better. So, like—sorry, someone’s coming in.
…
Dojima-san was just here. She’s taking Rikku to a spa on Friday. It’s Rikku’s birthday today apparently.
See notebook? I can totally be nice and cheerful and laugh with people and talk about how going to a spa weekly would probably help everyone stop fighting.
The only difference is, notebook, that I don’t really believe it. I think people are always going to fight ‘cause it’s like an itch that’s got to be scratched and even though I laughed and agreed with Dojima…
It was fake. I don’t think I’d want to be in a world without fighting. All I do is fight. Every breath I take is a fight to live, everything I say is a fight to be heard, a fight to hide but be noticed all at the same time, every time I go and work in my garden I’m waging a war to keep my plants alive. Each and every time I practice my jutsu, or my gun, or my healing, it’s a fight ‘cause you never know when you’ll need them in a battle.
So you’ve got to be prepared. And all I know is how to fight.
Too bad I keep losing, huh.
Yeah.
I just wish I could win sometimes. But I don’t even know what I want to win.
Just, I know that I want to win…
Something.
Just once.
So I know that it wasn’t all useless. That I wasn’t useless.
That I could do something meaningful for someone.
I wish, I wish.
What’s the point? Wishes are for fools.
…
Guess I’m a fool then right, notebook? Because I can’t help it.
Oh. Lana’s come in.
I’ll write tomorrow.
[Also? This is IC knowledge for two people and that’s it. And that’s Cable, and Ino (clearly). And this just proves that no internet connection plus the promise to write some of Ino’s journal means that I have way too much time on my hands. Also? Ino tangentializes like a fiend. Seriously.]
FOR MY EYES ONLY – PERSONAL & CONFIDENTIAL
…that’s a bit silly isn’t it?
Whatever. I’m allowed to be silly here. So there.
You know what? I don’t even know why I’m trying this. Even I think this is a stupid idea and the only thing that it has going for it is that it’s less stupid than Lana’s idea of writing a letter to Cable-san and letting him read that. What good would that do? Honestly.
My bruises still hurt, you know? And I could heal them but I’m not and that makes me wonder a little if Lana’s right about me just punishing myself but then I realize that that is completely stupid because why should I waste the energy to heal a bunch of bruises when Cassandra’s only going to give me more of them tomorrow?
Which… actually… some people would say is a good reason to heal them but I can’t be bothered even if not being bruised tomorrow might give me a slightly better chance at going up against Cassandra. I’d say win against her, but that’s so not likely that it’s not even worth writing down. Going up and hoping to win against Cassandra is like… is like hoping to win against Deadpool-san or Cable-san.
The only difference is that I can actually hit her some of the time, even when she’s not going so easy on me, and that her bruises won’t heal quickly. They matter. It’s a sign that I managed something. To affect something.
I’d like to be able to do that some of the time, you know? To matter at least a little, even though all the time lately it seems like I can’t do anything right. Even though Liir says otherwise and Dick doesn’t seem to have any objections to how my being his big sister is going. And I don’t think Dick really knows me enough to see the whole… fakeness of me. I hope he doesn’t figure it out. I hope he doesn’t go away if he does. Liir though is so biased that I think I could murder someone in front of him, for no reason, and he’d still say he loves me and in his own way mean it.
I mean, it’s the no reason part of that that bugs me, not the killing thing. Because I could, not that I would mind, but I could and I still don’t think that it would bother me at night if I did. Which, apparently, is Wrong and Bad and… I miss Triela. Cassandra gets it, but Triela’s more like me, I think.
Cassandra still feels bad about killing people. At least, for some of them. Something like that. I don’t understand it but she gets so much else of what I talk to her about that… that doesn’t bother me, you know? I mean, I like having other friends and stuff, but it’s kinda annoying when they’re all Concerned about that sort of thing when it’s not… a big deal.
Yeah. Is that messed up? Maybe? Do I really care? I don’t know. I don’t know much of anything really.
And this is so not why I bought you notebook. But that’s what’s coming out so I guess I’ve got some issues there too? Why not, I’ve got issues everywhere lately.
I’m going to burn you when I’m done writing. When you’re full. Because I don’t want anyone knowing what’s in my head. Because if they know that I’m done for. No point in hiding. No point in smiling. No point in faking it, even if faking it has gone pretty badly lately.
I’m trying. Really I am. It’s just I’ll be fine and then someone will mention something, or another thing will happen and it sends me right back to this spiraly way of thinking that I can’t seem to get out of and running and ignoring the problems don’t seem to work and I don’t know how to make it all work and I’m worried that everyone is just going to throw up their hands and declare me useless and wash their hands of me.
Some days… I think I might deserve it.
I don’t understand why these people keep hanging around, why they keep not going away no matter what I do. I just… don’t get it.
But I’m glad. Some stupid selfish part of me is glad, because they don’t seem to care when I’m not good enough, not strong enough, not smart enough, not calm enough…
Just… not enough.
I want to be enough. More than anything, but how do you figure out that one? What measurements should I use? Who can judge that? Well, I know the answer to that last one and the answer is ‘me’ but at don’t know any of the other answers. Does anyone know the answers? Or is everyone just faking it and it’s just that my mask is broken and they’re all too polite to mention just how much how much I suck is showing?
And? For the last time? It was training not punishing myself. I don’t care what Lana said, except obviously I do because I’m writing about it, but it doesn’t make any sense. To me, anyway. She said that it might be part of the reason why Michael isn’t talking to me. I think he’s just mad about the fact that while we were in the cabins I didn’t see any need to tell him where I was going when I headed out training.
Why does he even care anyway? He shouldn’t. All I did was hurt him. And now I feel like I should be saying sorry to him but I don’t know for what and I hate that about him, always making me feel like I’ve got to be sorry for who I am even though I can’t be anyone else.
If I was someone else though, it’d be easier. Because I’d be enough. I’d be able to make people happy instead of screwing up. I still don’t even know why I challenged Temari for a fight. I knew that I’d lose but she called me weak and…
I guess I am if I walked right into that one so easily, right? It hurt, I think, not so much that she beat me (not that I’m saying a giant freaking metal fan to the side doesn’t hurt because it did) but the fact she sat on me like I was… nothing.
Again. I keep coming back to that one. I don’t want to be nothing, but that’s the only thing I feel like I’m being lately.
I wanted to be strong enough to hit her even once. And I didn’t. I got side-tracked by her clones. Lost sight of the real challenge because the clones were easier. Easier. I don’t want to take the easy way out of things I don’t. Why did I do that? I know enough to ignore unnecessary distractions like that but I didn’t. Why not?
Why does she make me see red when she’s not even talking to me. Why do I feel sick whenever she looks at me? I was here first! This is my place more than hers and—
Hang on, someone’s at the door.
…
Back. That was Dick. He just got back from a trip home. He’s promised to tell me all about it at a later point and I promise to listen because he didn’t even bat an eye when I kinda freaked out on him about being a disappointment to people.
He said I’m not.
I don’t believe him. No, I mean, I don’t believe that I’m not a disappointment to other people. I’m fairly sure that he means it and is telling the truth when he says things like that, but…
He doesn’t speak for anyone else.
I wish I could read minds. Then maybe at least I’d be able to tell what people are thinking about me. So I knew where I stand. I’d like to know that. But people, you know, don’t ever tell you straight out. They’re all ‘of course you matter’, and ‘I believe in you’ when really they could be thinking ‘God, I wish that Ino would just stop whining and leave me alone’ and I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.
I wish people couldn’t read my mind. I haven’t talked to River since I found out she could, you know? And Lieutenant Kerrigan hates me or something, and I know she can read my mind, and that’s… yeah. At least she’s honest about it? I don’t know. I think I prefer that. I make her mad even when I’m not trying to just from the way I think and… I can’t help that. I think how I think. How do you change something like that?
Can you?
Ha. Look at me. Avoiding the one person that I know can read minds that I see the most often. Cable-san.
Want to know a secret? (Does it even matter since you’re just paper and ink and words that no one else will ever read?) Fine, I’ll tell you. Might as well be honest with myself about it.
I’m scared.
Not, like, of him. Not like that. But of the way that he can hear my thoughts and answer them and I never know how much he’s picking up and how much he’s not and I’m scared that he’ll find something in my head that will make him fire me and I don’t want that. I told Cassandra that I didn’t want to quit, and that was the truth, but I don’t want to be fired either. And I’m scared, so scared, that one day I’ll stop measuring up and Cable-san will just give up on me because I’m so useless. Because I’m weak.
And he’s got to know that. He can see inside my head and I can’t keep anything from him no matter if I try and who knows how much he knows? I wish Master Skywalker was here to show me how to learn to block people from getting in my head. It’s my head. If I can’t even be weak between by own ears what am I supposed to do?
I don’t know how to be strong in my own head. Not and mean it. Confidence is key, but all I can do is convince other people—those who can’t read my mind—that I’m confident. I fuck up, I crash and burn, and I’m terrified of people figuring that out.
I want to be the person I try and pretend to be. But lately it’s becoming more and more fake when I try to be her, and it’s easier and easier to knock me back to just… who I am.
Who knows why? I don’t.
There’s so much I don’t know. I don’t know why Lana smiles at me, or why Liir hugs me, or why Michael’s mad at me, or why Cable-san hasn’t just tossed me out already. I’m useless to him. I know it. I’m just… dead weight. I sit at the store, and not even that lately, I just sleep or even leave and it’s so messed up because I know I shouldn’t and then I go and do it anyway. Am I trying to prove something? What?
He says I’m useful, that I’ve got worth. I don’t believe him. He can talk ‘til he’s blue in the face about it (and he won’t because Cable-san doesn’t) and I still won’t believe him. I don’t know the why.
I don’t know why he put a blanket over me, and I know it was him because no one else would’ve known where we keep them in the store, when I was sleeping instead of just waking me up.
But I don’t really matter I guess. Nothing does to him except for the baby. And I don’t think that’s fair either. The baby, sure, the baby is important. But shouldn’t other people be too? It doesn’t have to be all or nothing, right?
… I’m a hypocrite, right? Because it’s always been all or nothing with me. Nice. See notebook, this is what being honest does to you. You complain about what’s bothering you and then realize that you’re the exact same way.
Or, you kn—
…
Kabuto just wrote. Snake delivery service. I’m going to kill him. Night.
June 10th
Ow. I wasn’t kidding about Cassandra packing a punch, you know? I think my bruises have bruises and I’m already going all sorts of interesting colours. But, you know what? It was worth it because I asked her to stop going easy on me.
And she did.
Stop, I mean.
So I’m here, wrapped up in the softest shirt I own (it’s one of Kabuto’s and he’s going to have to fight me for his wardrobe back if he ever gets back) and my hair keeps sticking to my face and it’s almost annoying but I don’t want to tie it back.
Kusanagi keeps staring at me. I don’t know how much of that is just in my head, maybe all of it? But that’s what it looks like he’s doing. Maybe he needs another Andrew-mouse? I’ll have to remember that, and tell Liir. He wanted to be here for the next feeding.
Notebook? Do you think that’s weird? I don’t, but I’m pretty sure a lot of people would think that’s weird. Of course, now I’m asking you for an opinion and that’s pretty pathetic all things considered.
And if you ever answered me back I’d toss you in a fire so quick. Seriously. I don’t want a creepy notebook that can talk to me. I don’t need something with enough brain to talk back to know what’s going on in my head.
Had Justice class today. I don’t know what to think, but there’s not a whole lot of ‘justice’ in it. Just shooting cows, and making snowglobes. That’s good with me. We did ‘stuff’ today. Apparently it’s important.
Who knew?
I don’t know what to write about today. All I did was go to class, help with the renovations, and get beaten up by Cassandra. Dojima’s sent me an email that I’m pretty sure has the pictures I wanted of Romeo but I’m not in the mood to laugh.
I’m not, like, in a bad mood. But I don’t… I just don’t want to laugh? If that makes sense. Does it? I don’t know.
I considered dropping in on Cal today to give him another soap, but I don’t want him thinking it’ll happen too often, but I’ve started carrying around a soap just in case I see him. I’ll toss it at him, because after him mentioning Amber and me chucking them at his head I almost think that he should have something thrown at him at least once. It’s a green rabbit. Pale pale green, you know, like the green they call ‘sea foam’ even though I’ve got no idea what sea foam actually looks like. From a forest here. No seas around to poke at and if Fandom had rainbow sea foam I wouldn’t be surprised because it’s Fandom.
It’s kinda odd to be wondering if we’re okay. Things went a bit weird on Friday and I don’t know all the links that were being said. It’s almost like… we were talking and then he got odd and distant… and then went back to more ‘normalish’ if that makes sense?
But then, you know, maybe everyone gets offended by me and they just don’t show it and I don’t think about it when I’m out in public because that’s the easiest way to be seen as weak. And I don’t even know if I really believe that they do think that, or if it’s just everything else in my head messing me up.
I think though, that I figured out what’s annoying me so much about Temari. Just a little. She’s always, like, on duty. I didn’t come here to be on duty. I don’t want to be reminded of it every time I see her and I am and it makes my stomach upset.
…
I should throw out the cookies Liir gave me two weeks ago. I’m not going to eat them, but I feel bad about it anyway because he’s the one that made them for me. I haven’t been hungry lately. Is that a problem, do you think? Granola bars are pretty much the only thing I’ve been making myself eat outside of some cereal and definitely juice. But anything heavier than that just sits in my stomach and makes me feel sick.
To sum up: Michael’s still not talking to me. Liir and Dick I’m still a-okay with. Lana still smiles at me. And Cable-san is still a giant question mark of ‘who knows?’
And I still feel like a failure. Wow, notebook, you so fail at making me feel better.
June 11th
I brought you to work today! I know, I know, I’m clearly so stupid that I should just drop dead now because I tell you about how I’m scared of Cable-san figuring out how messed up I am (if he doesn’t already know) and then bring you the written evidence of my messed-up-ness to the place where I see him the most.
Have I ever seen him outside of work? If it’s not a life or death thing, I mean?
I know all that. But I did it anyway. Score another point for poor impulse control.
I cleaned today. Maybe it was a bit of an apology for being such an awful employee last week, and maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I was just in the mood to clean. Ugh. Now though I’m writing in you, clearly, and I don’t know how to keep going.
Writing about how I’m so messed up isn’t all that fun for me, you know? It’s hard, and then the pen is flying across the page and I don’t even know if I’m making sense but I can’t take the words back because even if I scribble them out they’re still there and I know what’s under the scribbles. So I don’t scribble things out.
Why should I? You’re my notebook. Keeper of my keys, even if all the keys are only to my head.
I’ve been thinking of writing home to Dad, but I don’t know how to say it. I still can’t find my center when I try to meditate and that seriously creeps me out because I’ve been able to find that since before starting at the Academy.
If I write to Dad though it’ll all come out, I know it, and that’d be the end of me here. Because I know he’d want to know what’s wrong and one of the things that’d come out is that my boyfriend left because he’s a idiot playing around with space-time travel and then he’d be all ‘and whose your boyfriend’ and, and… I’d probably be upset enough to tell him and the moment I said Yakushi Kabuto…
Yeah.
It’d be Bad. So I can’t talk to him. But I can’t really talk to anyone else either, you know? There’s always something I’ve got to hold back and keep from people or can’t figure out a way to explain it so that they don’t stare at me funny.
Good thing you can’t, yeah? I know, I know, next thing I do is that you’ll wind up with a name and then I’ll know that I’ve gone completely around the bend because you’re not supposed to name your notebooks and then talk to them and… see, I am weird.
I’m kinda worried about what Cable-san’s going to say. Is today going to be the day for the Talk he’s promised me? Or no?
Or what? I don’t know. I wish that I had someone to talk to, that I knew wouldn’t make fun of me, or use what I said against me, or do anything with the information I gave them but listen and guard my secrets for me.
I’d say that Liir would, but I don’t want him knowing how messed up I am. How stupidly needy his little sister is when I try to be strong in front of him. He said that he believed in me. I can’t be weak in front of him after that. I considered not showing this coming Sunday for his lesson, but that’d just be weaker I think than what happened last week. Even though it’s going to be a really boring lesson for him.
I’m not sparring with him until I know that I’m not going to mess up and not want to stop again. I can’t take that many people out, but with Liir it’s not even a real contest. He’s learning, but half a year just over doesn’t make up for more than half a life and I’m quicker on my feet than him anyway.
And I don’t think he really wants to hit me. Like, at all. Even though I can deal with it. I wi—
…
That was Cable-san. Sorry for sitting on you, notebook, but drastic times call for drastic measures and I didn’t need or want him to read you. He still asked about you though, and then said he won’t infringe on my privacy, but that’s a lie if I ever heard one. He might not read you, but he’s still got access to my head whenever he wants, right?
I wish he didn’t. I wish he talked more. I wish that his lecture hadn’t been so pointless. Way to tell me what I already knew, Cable-san. And Worf is still a racist ass and I don’t see why I’ve got to be polite to him.
Like, ever.
I’m sorry, but he is. I don’t appreciate being called ‘human’ like it’s an insult. I don’t call him ‘alien’ and I so could, but I don’t. Because then I’d be insulting people like Teddy and Michael and Isabel and that’s just wrong. It doesn’t matter if I’m not getting along with someone, or whatever, I’m not going to insult them like that. Even if they never hear me do it. I’d know I did it.
So. There.
Yeah. Cable-san’s wishing at the stars if he thinks I’m ever going to like Worf. He was annoying before that, but yeah. That? He preaches about honour and duty and shit and I don’t even think he knows what that means.
It’s not honourable to insult someone about their species. It’s not a duty to act like you’ve got a stick up your ass. And I’m not going to listen to someone who doesn’t get that. The second one? Whatever, I can work around. The first one though… I have honour.
The fact that it has got different stripes than his doesn’t make his any better. So, like—sorry, someone’s coming in.
…
Dojima-san was just here. She’s taking Rikku to a spa on Friday. It’s Rikku’s birthday today apparently.
See notebook? I can totally be nice and cheerful and laugh with people and talk about how going to a spa weekly would probably help everyone stop fighting.
The only difference is, notebook, that I don’t really believe it. I think people are always going to fight ‘cause it’s like an itch that’s got to be scratched and even though I laughed and agreed with Dojima…
It was fake. I don’t think I’d want to be in a world without fighting. All I do is fight. Every breath I take is a fight to live, everything I say is a fight to be heard, a fight to hide but be noticed all at the same time, every time I go and work in my garden I’m waging a war to keep my plants alive. Each and every time I practice my jutsu, or my gun, or my healing, it’s a fight ‘cause you never know when you’ll need them in a battle.
So you’ve got to be prepared. And all I know is how to fight.
Too bad I keep losing, huh.
Yeah.
I just wish I could win sometimes. But I don’t even know what I want to win.
Just, I know that I want to win…
Something.
Just once.
So I know that it wasn’t all useless. That I wasn’t useless.
That I could do something meaningful for someone.
I wish, I wish.
What’s the point? Wishes are for fools.
…
Guess I’m a fool then right, notebook? Because I can’t help it.
Oh. Lana’s come in.
I’ll write tomorrow.
[Also? This is IC knowledge for two people and that’s it. And that’s Cable, and Ino (clearly). And this just proves that no internet connection plus the promise to write some of Ino’s journal means that I have way too much time on my hands. Also? Ino tangentializes like a fiend. Seriously.]
