IC Character Journal for Mayfield
Aug. 30th, 2030 02:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ceasetoexistHey. 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 feltbad 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
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
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
July 1st, 195X (2012)
Date: 2012-07-01 04:56 am (UTC)I mean. I've been happy. I dunno. That's the only way to put it but it feels kind of like it's more than happiness. Like it feels that, for once, things are going okay and that they'll be okay. I want to call it hope but at the same time? It feels like it's more than that. It feels stronger than that. And even with all the weird crap, and the bad crap that's happened to me here and happened recently, even with all the people I've lost and probably will lose. I can't stop feeling this feeling.
Like. Is this joy? What is is this? It seems stupid that it should be joy or that I even should be happy but I am. I shouldn't want the people who are still here to be here. I should want them at home, or at least safe and happy, and I do want that. But it's so good to even just have them here. And even if they were to leave, it's good to have just known them.
God. That's cheesy. I'm glad I'm the only one who will ever read this crap.
In a weird way, it's just nice to know that I can love. Or at least I think I can. Sometimes I wonder if I really do. If I get the emotions I'm showing, if I really understand them. Like sometimes I wonder if the emotions I feel aren't real and I'm just copying people. Just going through the motions of what I'm seeing them doing and calling that my emotions.
But I don't think that's the case. And maybe in the end it doesn't matter.
It's stupid. It's so completely stupid but. I want to help. I've been saying that for a while now but I haven't felt it until now, if that makes any sense. But I get it now.
I'm finally going to try and help.