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Oct. 5th, 2004 @ 05:06 pm Ruminations on this time of the year
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Presently: Amused
I can tell that the days are getting shorter, even through the heavy mists which have taken permanent residence outside of the Chapel and the surrounding areas. The season I appreciate most of all has finally arrived in true form, and though it will never be as spectacular as the Autumns past from before the incident, it still brings a sense of fond nostalgia for times long dead and gone.

The town is still bringing in the tourists in spite of everything which had transpired, surprisingly enough. They trickle in seemingly by accident, surprised looks on their faces as they wander around in the streets, fog clinging to their forms. Sometimes they'll visit me here, usually when I'm studying in the sanctuary in the warmth of candlelight, and they will query me for the location of a particular landmark or ask if I have seen a particular person pass by.

Interesting people to observe, tourists. They seem to get lost so easily here. I suppose that the attraction of the town is enough for them to not worry about planning their activites ahead of time.

Playing it by ear.

Yes, let's just drop everything and go to Silent Hill. You mean you didn't dress for this cold weather? Shame, indeed. You're seeing strange things? Well, I would suggest that you check yourself in to the local hospital. Oh, that's where you saw the strange things?

Fall, it brings out the best in me, and the worst in the ones who visit.
Jul. 26th, 2004 @ 03:22 pm July...
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Presently: Nostalgic
While others are toiling away under the heat of an unforgiving sun, we're blessed (honestly, I'm not certain if that's the right word for it, but it will do for now) with the usual sullen gray layers of fog and the occasional meandering flurry here and there.

Standard fare, as if anything changes around here.

Not to say that I yearn for these things, it's been a very, very long time since I've had to deal with the ministrations of that blistering ball of burning gasses which our tiny existence orbits around. I've always felt that you can always make yourself warmer in cases of cold, but in the presence of an excess of warmth, there's only so much clothing you can take off and still be suffering.

Well.

And for some reason, memories of Brahms suddenly play through my mind. As is, Summer is halfway through and Autumn will be here soon enough.

I miss those days.
Jan. 29th, 2004 @ 10:25 am (no subject)
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Presently: scathing
After an extremely overdue hiatus I have realized that I have been quite negligent in keeping my duties as to the upkeep of this journal.

For the most part it's been sitting here at my desk underneath a huge sheaf of papers that I'd also been meaning to go through and organize.

I blame Claudia because everything that goes wrong is always connected to her.

How time flies when you live in a world of perpetual fog and fun.

Did I mention fun enough? Anyone in their right mind who has read my journal and who has been to Silent Hill should very well know the implications of that very statement to be quite the opposite.

I imagine today will be the same though, as always. But of course, we'll have to see it through the end just to make sure.

As always.
Nov. 17th, 2003 @ 03:07 pm General ranting.
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Presently: Sane
It's days like these when I'm reminded about how much sanity I retain around here.

The surroundings shifting, the cold sweat on the back of my neck? I've gotten used to that. I mean, after seeing the same thing over and over one will eventually become desensitized to it.

Well, either that or you'll end up wandering the streets foaming at the mouth such as some of the tourists do on rare occasion.

Tourists. Lured in by urban legends probably passed on by word of mouth or posted on internet sites.

If it weren't for them I'd probably be beyond my wit's end by now. Other members of the church are so hard to talk to at times, deluded by one thing or another. Well, I suppose you can toss in the insanity factor there in addition to general dysfunction. We can't forget that now, can we? Certainly not.

Oh, and how I wish I could forget.

I think a glass of port is in order.
Sep. 29th, 2003 @ 12:28 am Regret
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Presently: In obvious pain
God, such a hangover. Rather, a complete masterpiece of brittle pain and nausea coupled with a general feeling of utter crap. I have a suspicion that today will be spent drinking copious quantities of water and laying in bed with my eyes closed.

Last night was an utter blur. While events in detail seem rather hazed over, I don't know if I want to remember them.

I'm left with this residual emotion of... it's something I can't quite place my finger on. Something odd.

Don't even ask me how it happened.

I should be asking myself that very question.

By the way, this never happened.
Sep. 25th, 2003 @ 04:14 pm Defeated for the moment
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You'd think that after enough time here one would get accustomed to certain things.

It's partly true. Sometimes a change in the environment is welcome. New things to look at besides the same four boring walls of my room, you know? I don't really get out as much as I like to.

And how is Claudia, you might ask? Ohhh, Claudia's doing just splendid, I can assure you. Anyone with a partially-functioning brain in their head would have been able to see that everything is right in the world with Claudia.

It feels like there's glass in my mouth any time I speak her name.

You should have seen her the other day. No, really. The pilot light in hell must have burned out for this to have happened. She was pleased about something, full of a freakish smirking that had me feeling very uneasy. She never smiles.

And so I follow her. I follow her to find out why the hell she's so goddamned happy. I want to be there to rain on her parade, at the very least.

She could have at least chosen a route in which I didn't have to avoid tripping into medical equipment every three yards. Do you know how hard it is to get blood off of my shoes? She goes around barefoot, did you know that? Barefoot! Well, it is Claudia we're talking about now, isn't it? So I guess that there isn't any surprise to the statement after all.

Oh, look at me, I'm Claudia! I'm going to save the world without any shoes on! Watch me as I make this creature! Watch me as I put Vincent in his place! I'm filled with sunshine and flowers! Here, have several kittens, Vincent!

Okay, so there weren't any kittens. If there were, they'd probably have their innards trailing behind them, or too many legs... I don't know.

You win this time, Claudia. You win at the expense of someone else's life.

I'm going to bed.
Sep. 21st, 2003 @ 05:09 pm Splitting headache...
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Oh, you could imagine that I'm filled with sheer frustration after having a confrontation with her again. Keeping her little secrets to herself. Her holier-than-thou attitude. Her elitism. It drives me absolutely up the wall.

Just because I'm not completely insane like most people around here doesn't mean I don't believe in God. I built a chapel for my beliefs (and a nice chapel, I must add), and all she can do is shake her head because I'm not going off to aid the will of God like the good little fanatic she is?

Oh yeah, did I mention she's a complete bitch? Why do I even bother?

If you don't want things looked at, you'd better keep them out of sight. Not that it was an interesting read, though I admit I was able to pick up quite a bit of ammunition for the oncoming battle, so to speak. I'm certain that she was most delighted by my little discoveries. I can't deny that I enjoy pushing her buttons.

The look on her face was priceless. Oh yes, she asked for it.

We exchanged some interesting words. She compared me to that poor excuse for a father of hers. Pardon? I've never done as much physically to her except throw her dirty looks. Words? Sticks and stones, my dear Claudia. Really.

To think that a book has caused so much trouble, I'm partially amused by that fact.

I guess what it really comes down to is that I have to take company as it is, I'd probably be as insane as she by this point otherwise. At least I can be amused by her curious antics.

I know I'm just writing this down to get it out of my system. Textual catharsis, you know? At least I know to keep my writings out of sight.
Sep. 16th, 2003 @ 11:55 pm No longer I preach to the masses.
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I wake up, it's always the same. The same stained gurney, the same decayed reality.

Chainlinked metal mesh, a grimy coating of grease and dried blood.

Freshly drawn blood mixing with rust, rust into filth.

Corroded rivets and the eroded holes that some had vanished from, a pell-mell design of pure accident.

Bleak. Bleak bleak bleak. Even I'm covered with the dust that seems to constantly permeate from an unknown source.

And yet, I'm still smiling. The cracked tiles reflect my face rather nicely.

This could be a good day after all.