ceasetoexist: (And I am aware now of how)
[personal profile] ceasetoexist
Hey. This is a stupid little project of mine, I guess, to continue to work on Pokey's voice. Considering he's been in Mayfield for a bit over a year, he's decided to write down some of his experiences, both past and present, on an on-again off-again basis. Doing this is meant to help keep me in his mindset, as well as provide a better look at the way Pokey thinks, especially after the amount of development he's gone through in Mayfield.

Anyway, there'll hardly be a consistent update to this journal. It's for fun, and I may drop it at anytime. But I'll see where it goes.



8/30/195X:

This is stupid. I mean the fact that I’m bothering to write this, not the typewriter. Though hey you know what? For good measure, the typewriter is pretty stupid too. It’s big and dumb and loud in comparison to a computer. Though hey. Gotta admit it looks kinda cool in its own stupid way. And the way the keys clack is kinda neat.

Oh right. I’m getting off track as to why I’m actually writing this stupid thing. Though even I’m not really sure why I’m being dumb enough to do it. I guess I’m getting carried away after having drank that stupid milk a few weeks ago. I just started writing down names. Of the people I could remember had been here, and weren’t anymore. I mean, I guess it shouldn’t have surprised me how many I wrote down. People come and go in this stupid hole all the time. And I want to say I don’t care. But I can’t say that anymore. Well, not here I guess. I can still say it in the open. But it’s dumb. There’s a difference between telling people that, and telling myself it. And I can’t tell myself it.

Yada yada yada I should probably just keep going yada yada yada I wonder how many times I can just type that without getting bored

Yada yada yada yada yada yada yada yada yada yada yada yada yada yada yada yada

Okay I’m bored. Incredible experiment, the experiment is now over.

So anyway I guess what bothered me wasn’t how many people were on the list, but how many I didn’t even remember until I started writing. It was weird, like some stupid chamber in my brain just opened up and decided to barf everything it was holding in it on to the floor so I could rummage around through it and see what I could find. Not that I’d rummage through barf. I mean, if I could maybe scoop up some with something and put it in a bag to throw at someone, but I wouldn’t just rummage through it why am I defending myself to a piece of paper okay let’s keep going now I need to quit this and stay on topic.

So any I realized how many people I’d forgotten. And while I wanted to say I didn’t give a crap? I do. And I felt bad inconsiderate horrible I don’t know about forgetting some of them. And I guess I decided I needed to write about it. About what’d happened to me here so I don’t forget anymore. There are things too important to forget, and I don’t know if I’m forgetting just because of being forgetful, or if it’s another effect of screwing with time-space, or what. If it’s the latter, I should probably make sure I have some kind of record of what’s happened here.

They don’t deserve to be I guess I kind of owe them It’ll work as a record for anyone else who might find it if I get permadroned in this dump. So they at least know some of the weird crap that’d gone on here before they arrived, and about some of the people here because they ought so they know just how long it’s been going on and how many people this place has eaten up.

I’m going to stop typing now. It kind of sucks just looking at the page and I’m only typing stupid crap. I should probably just go to sleep.

I’ll see if I continue this later I guess.


9/11 Entry

9/16 entry

9/21 Entry

9/11/195X

Date: 2011-09-12 08:11 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] godisachild.livejournal.com
Wow so I'm seriously coming back to this huh? Guess you can put this under "experiments I did not give up on". It's the start of a brand new list, I guess. And everyone rejoices.

Today was stupid. School started back up, and it sucks, so what else is new. Apparently I'm considered a high schooler now since I would have had a birthday while I've been here, but you know. Guess it was too much for the town to actually make me look older or something too. I guess that's just too hard for it. They can say I've been here for a year sure, but make me look it? Naw.

I can't even remember when my birthday is. Isn't that funny. I mean I know I have one, right? I must have. I was born I didn't just start out time traveling in the void I

Okay stop.

So anyway the town jipped me. What else is new.

I was about to ask how did I get so bitter. I just sat here a full three minutes laughing at that.

So school sucked, didn't see Slugger so that sucked so whatever. He's probably off messing around with his stupid little girlfriend or whatever. They're perfect for each other because they're perfectly creepy in how similar they are it's unreal.

You know what? Tomorrow?

I'm going to do alternating colors on everyones lockers with paint. That's what I'm going to do. I'll add some color to this stupid dull place. Don't care if they like it or not. It's what I like that it's all about.



Eddie's question pissed me off today. That was a stupid question for an ethics class. "Do you have regrets?" Yeah, I got regrets. Everyone does. I wouldn't say that before but whatever yes I'm sorry I regret a lot of what I did and I'll probably regret a lot of what I'll eventually do. Maybe it's stupid to keep doing things I know are going to go bad in the end but I don't have a choice it's what I do but I'm trying I'm trying so hard and I just want them to be proud of me her to be proud of me someone to b


Tomorrow I'm going to put a strip of flypaper with tacks on it on Eddies chair. Then we'll see who asks stupid questions.

I should throw this sheet away. If I was smarter, I'd just destroy the typewriter and what little I've written altogether. But I can't. I want to keep going. I gotta. There's things I need to say and people I need to talk about and

Stupid.

Whatever.

I'm done for the night.

9/16/195X (2011)

Date: 2011-09-16 05:31 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] godisachild.livejournal.com
So I dreamed I was in the Deep Darkness.

I have no clue why. I haven't even thought of that stupid frigging place, but there I was again. I guess I could question how well I actually remember it, but who really cares? I'm the only one here other than Ness who'd even know what it is, and it's not like a friggin' forest-swamp is anything to write home about.

But anyway, there I am again, and it's just as dark as ever. The stupid helicopter just crashed and I'm crawling out of the wreckage unharmed and

Unharmed

Well I mean I was hurt some. Not severely but some wasn't I? How'd I manage that? I'm an unlucky guy I'm the first person to admit that and yet I got out of a severe accident unhurt? That doesn't make sense. I guess Giygas could've been doing something to keep me from getting hurt but

I remember being in a lot of pain. And then I wasn't.

I don't know.

It doesn't matter. Keep going.

So I'm in the Deep Darkness, and it's deep and dark and swampy and yada yada yada. But there's...lights sometimes. So I go towards them.

And it's people. Not the Tenda, but people. And people I know. Know from Mayfield. Some are still here, some are gone, but it doesn't matter. They're people I know, and they're glowing. Like they're guiding me. Some of them even motion for me to come forward. So I move towards them.

One by one, the lights go out. Each person leaves. I say leaves because it's not like they just snap out of existence. It's like....the darkness there is a door, one I can't fully see, but one they can slip into whenever I get close enough. No. It's more like....some slip, but like they're being pulled. Pulled behind this bizarre door that they may not even know is there.

And in the end, I'm alone again, but I can see another light. Larger this time, and I know I'm near the end of the Deep Darkness. So I move.

And the exit closes off. Like a sheet or some bullcrap of darkness gets thrown over it. I keep moving anyway. And then I just...hit it. I hit the darkness, and I can't move forward. Which is bull, so I punched the darkness a few times because I

Well anyway punching the darkness doesn't work. So I decide to go the other way. After a few steps?

Resistance again.

And on and on and on. No matter what way I go, I feel resistance. And each time?

I can feel the "walls" starting to move. Move in.

And then I woke up from hyperventilation. Good times.

Why am I bothering with this? It's a stupid dream. Nothing even happened, and it's not like I tend to have good dreams anyway.

I'm not scared.

This isn't even what the friggin' journal was for. I was going to chronicle what happened, and the people I met. To see if I've actually figured out anything. So they aren't forgotten.





I'm not stalling.


I wonder if anyone else is up right now.
Edited Date: 2011-09-16 05:34 am (UTC)

9/21/195X (2011)

Date: 2011-09-22 04:57 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] godisachild.livejournal.com
[Note: Unlike all the other entries, which are typed on a typewriter, this one is written down by hand.]

It's my fault.



I don't know what I expected to happen. Relief, I guess? I mean, once I actually started to admit things were my fault, that I was to blame for them? I'd feel better. Sort of, at least. Not like great or some bullcrap, but kinda like I'd somehow swallowed rocks, and now the rocks were out and gone. But right now? I still feel just empty. Maybe the difference is that I'd admit I was wrong out loud, but you can kiss my butt if you think I'm doing that right here and now in a crowded bunker. They don't need to know that. Only a few people do.

The person who needs to know it most of all, I can't really tell. I don't know if she'd fully understand anyway but

No. I guess I do know she would. After 400 years of pissing around in time, she'd understand the most. I guess that's funny, the thing that understands me the most, or knows me the best, is a mech.

It's funny. Still not laughing, cause it's a dumb joke. At my expense.

Still won't deny I deserve it.



I don't regret killing him either. Even if it ended up like this? Even if it could go on to end worse? Don't regret it.

And I could kill him for less reasons then he's even given me now. Maybe I will.

I don't want to involve Slugger. Slugger wants to get involved. But it's my problem, not his. And I'm


I'm scared. After seeing him just tear apart Josephine like that, I'm scared he'll actually kill my fri Slugger, despite the whole giant monster thing and the ring he apparently has now. I won't admit it to him, but yeah. That energy bullcrap? That is pretty cool. Wouldn't mind some of that.

I guess I can do that here, huh? Actually write down things that I wouldn't say. That I like something, or scared, or sad or

Okay blah blah blah this is a big mooshy mess. Time to finish this up and find a way to hide this so no one can see it til I get home.




Me: 1
Black Mage: 1

10/23/195X (2011)

Date: 2011-10-23 07:04 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] godisachild.livejournal.com
Times goes on and life goes on and yada yada yada in this town.

I'd like to pretend things are really just boring at the moment. That the town's at that weird spot where it's calm in general, even among everyone in the town, and that nothing is really going down. For the most part, it is. But in an odd way, it isn't. Like there's a weird discontent. Well, for me that isn't so weird, especially with that stupid freak following me apparently. Yeah. We'll see how long that'll last because that crap isn't something I'm going to tolerate too much more of.

I killed him. All by myself, without tools or anything. With just a bat. I can kill him. I've done it before so I can do it again. I didn't run. I actually faced that stupid sucker down.

I was angry. Not normal angry, either. An actual sort of...burning anger? Like usually there's this weird, kind of slow, sick sensation when I'm angry most of the time. But now it was like...I guess the best way to put it is saying it was like there was a coal in my stomach. Or something? God, that's stupid. I'd burn this page if I wasn't sure of the fact that no one was ever going to see it.

I don't even know why I was that angry. I'm used to people threatening me. I'm not used to them threatening my friends? Like, I don't even know. I'm not used to them threatening my friends.

I'm not used to having friends to threaten.



The dance a week ago was pretty lame. Except for when Slugger and I hit the lights and decide it was time to liven things up a bit. That was pretty awesome. A plan actually worked too. Not that my plans don't usually work. I mean most of them work. Some of the times.

Who am I kidding? My plans fail most of the time. I guess I should kind of try and do this right, right? Like a journal is the one place where you're not supposed to lie to yourself. Or if it is a place you can still lie to yourself, I kinda think I lie enough everywhere else to make up for not lying here.

Nothing else really happened at the dance.



I dunno if he knows, but I know Slugger and his girlfriend, or not girlfriend, or whatever he's calling her, ended up dancing at least once. I wonder how much I can milk out of him by screwing with him about that.

I'm jealous of him. Of them.

I don't know why.




Picky's here.

I don't even know what I'm supposed to do there.

I wanted him here at first I mean I actually asked for him and now that he's here all I want is for him to be gone because back home might be a hellhole but at least it's a hellhole he has a chance of having a productive life in. At least I don't have to worry about some weirdo freakjob jumping out and slitting his throat in Onett like I do here. I mean what am I even going to do? I can't just follow him all day everyday. Well. I don't know that. I guess I could try.

I guess I'll burn that bridge when I get to it. I just need to figure out what to do.

October 29th, 195X (2011)

Date: 2011-10-30 05:30 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] godisachild.livejournal.com
I feel broken.

I don't know if that makes sense. I don't care if it makes sense. It's the only way to describe it.

And it's a bad description because I've never really been

whole

But broken - more broken, I guess - fits best.

And it's a comforting feeling. Comforting?

Comforting.

Like it's scary but it's calm. Like I guess it's what you'd imagine being dragged under water is like, and you freak out for awhile.

And then as your oxygen decreases your brain slowly dies and you go under fully.

I want to go under. I'm scared to go under. I don't know.

I just want something. Anything. I want to be complete. I want to be free.

But I don't deserve it. Not really. So I'll go with going under.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I don't even know what I'm apologizing for. Me I guess.

You know you'd think I'd be manic or something or really scared or angry but I'm not. Not really. Just kind of numb. And distant. And not really sure of anything. I'm not sure if I'm really here anymore.

Maybe I'm not. Maybe I'm dreaming.

I'm sorry for going on.

I'm sorry for everything.

I need rest. But I don't really rest much. Not anymore.

But I'm so comfortable right now.

I wish I was a better person. Or a smarter person. Or a braver person. Something that justified my continued survival above everyone else.

I wish I was a person at all.

I'm done here. I have nothing more to say. I just.

I need to stop talking.

November 9th, 195X (2011)

Date: 2011-11-10 12:14 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] godisachild.livejournal.com
Before I got here, I used to wonder if the reason crap always seemed to go wrong was, somehow, my fault. That despite doing everything I had been raised to do, and to believe, and was good at, things kept going wrong. But I'd always push those thoughts away and I wouldn't really give a crap about them because they were stupid. I mean me, do something wrong? No way. That's dumb as hell, I would think, and I would just pat myself on the back. Figuratively, I mean. I wouldn't literally pat myself on the back. Okay. Fine. Yes sometimes I would literally pat myself on the back when I thought that.

But now that I've been here for as long as I have, it isn't something I wonder, it's something I know. Things go bad because I screw up. That's it. That's all. It isn't anyone or anything else's fault. It's mine.

You know something? When it comes from someone else? That sucks to hear. Like it's painful.

But when I write it down? It isn't so bad.

I don't know where to really go from here after admitting it. I mean being in this place has been like an endurance test of repeatedly admitting I'm wrong about what I do and believe and yada yada yada. But I guess the difference is that I was forced the other times? Like, I had to keep having it happen over and over and over before I...well. I guess I admitted defeat. And that always sucks.

But I guess this isn't so much defeat. Not really. It's more like discovery. This isn't someone else pointing it out to me, this is me pointing it out to me. And I guess there's a difference in that.

I don't even know why I'm talking about this. Well. Okay. I guess I know a little. But even I don't want to write about that right now. And it's odd. Like, I've known for so long what I should've been doing, but not how what I have been doing has been wrong. I haven't been remembering the people who've been gone: I've been mourning. I haven't been trying to help, I've just been doing the same things I always do and say I'm doing it for a different reason.

You know how I said it didn't suck too bad saying it to yourself? Yeah okay I lied by this point. It sucks pretty bad even if it's you telling yourself what you need to do.

But I actually have an idea now. Of what I should be doing. And maybe I can act on it now that I know what I've been doing wrong.

After Christmas, that is. This is like, my New Year's Resolution.

My Pre-New Year's Resolution, I guess.

But I'll try and keep it.

December 8th, 195X (2011)

Date: 2011-12-09 04:38 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] godisachild.livejournal.com
So I guess I should explain that part of the reason I haven't updated this stupid thing is because. I dunno. The nuclear apocalypse isn't something I really wanted to go and talk about. Which seems odd in retrospect. I always thought it would've been pretty cool. I mean, I guess the idea of the power behind it always appealed to me, and back home, when I just really hated everyone? I always wanted to see it. For it to just happen, and get rid of them so I wouldn't have to deal with them any more. I guess it's what I kind of tried to create in a way with Giygas. And even beyond that, the idea is just cool. This scorched out wasteland, nothing really living and anything that is is utterly corrupt and awesome.

Well.

Guess I was wrong on that front too.

I've always kinda-sorta gotten the idea of "right" and "wrong". I knew there were things you were supposed to do, and things you weren't supposed to do, but it wasn't like I really gave a crap about them until. Well, until I got to this place I guess. I should probably talk about that, and the people who made me care, and about her, but I'll talk about one trainwreck at a time, thanks. I've got a few dozen to cover, so no reason to spread myself thin already about them. But either way, I've known about them. But I never really cared, because I guess I couldn't really point at one thing and go "you know what? I know this to be wrong for sure."

But now I can. After the last day of that horse crap? Yeah, I can point at it and go "that was wrong". I'm not a saint, or even a decent person by any stretch of the imagination but...I don't even know what else to say about it. Especially on the last day. It's just-

Is that what I do? Is that what I'm going to reduce that Lucas kid's world too. I already didn't want to do that, by this point. Now I know I really don't want to. And it's this weird, sick-queasy feeling I keep getting recently, keep feeling, when I think about it. I guess it's guilt. I mean, what else could it be? I guess it's guilt, knowing that in the end I'm apparently going to cause something like what I just saw, at least in one way.

But I'm not. Not anymore. Because other than the last day, I

I don't know. I felt proud again, for the first time in a long time. I felt proud, and like I could actually do something, and that? That was great. If it hadn't been for the last day, that trip would've still sucked hard but it still wouldn't have been as awful.

Maybe that's jerkish to write. Is that progress? That I'm recognizing what's kind of jerkish when I say or write it? Eh. Who cares. Maybe.

I guess the point is that I actually know something is wrong. Like. It actually bothers me. And that probably is a good thing, I guess.

And I'm not going to let people down anymore. Not if I can help it. Because there is crap I can do here. I've just got to find a way to work it in better to what I've usually been doing. It isn't that I'm worthless I

I'm not worthless.

I'm not worthless.

I can type it and actually feel it.

I'm not worthless.

And for once I'm not lying when I type that. That's what I actually feel, for once and

I'm stopping now.

I'll write more later maybe. I just need to stop.

1/1/195X (2012)

Date: 2012-01-01 07:09 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] godisachild.livejournal.com
I was kind of waiting for it, I guess. I mean, we got a crazy broadcast last year on Christmas Day, why not mix it up a little and have it on New Year's instead.

But where the one on Christmas had just been foreboding and kinda creepy, this one was almost

Yeah alright I'll say it. It was sad, alright?

I feel bad for them. The people keeping us here, I mean. Don't get me wrong. I hate them for what they've done to me, putting me here and degrading me here and killing me here and my little brother. I hate what they've done to me and I hate what they've done to him and in a strange way? I hate what they've done to everyone. It's just wrong. I keep saying that more and more because I think I get it more and more. It's wrong what they're doing and it's wrong that they even thought it, least from what we can tell. Maybe they had a reason. I dunno.

I don't really care, either. Not after all that's gone on here. I just don't care.

I don't care about a lot of things anymore, and there are a lot of things I do care about. I don't know how that makes any sense but that's how it is.

But for a while now, I've just kept thinking about the people that've brought us here. About Olney, who had betrayed the people he cared about, his friends, because he thought he couldn't get away any other way. That victory was impossible unless he did.

I can relate to that.

I couldn't make out everything that was said in that. Only little bits and pieces. But that last bit. It's something I kept saying to myself a lot, you know? I did all the bad crap I did because I wanted to make my world. A world, just for me.

"A world where nothing can hurt me anymore."






That kind of world doesn't exist. For anyone. It's about finding ways to reduce the hurt, not avoid it.

Maybe if we can show her that, we can win.

But I doubt it.

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