| (no subject) |
[Nov. 8th, 2009|05:12 pm] |
Hey! Um... this is Tia. Cordy told me I could borrow her journal... and I have questions to answer, I guess? Kaay. Soo. Yep. From her...
( Questions from Cordelia! ) |
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| My life is madness, and so suddenly finite |
[Aug. 22nd, 2009|06:18 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  listless | ] |
The story of my life the past few weeks has not especially been enjoyable. I was stripped of my immortality and my right arm (literally) all in one day, so I was forced to face the prospect of my own mortality in the first time in so long I have a hard time remembering my heartbeat being meaningful. I wish I could spout that 'newfound appreciation for the beauty and impermanence of life' bullshit, but selfishly, all I can think about is how I'm not ready for death. Every pulse is another mocking laugh at my expense.
Life without my arm, by comparison, has been nothing more than an interesting challenge. Gives me an excuse to flip pancakes dramatically like a chef in a film- while keeping it in the pan, I mean. I keeps Laci's mockery about my cooking skills at bay that way, too. Haha. I can cook, I swear! Just ask Angelique! I've made her breakfast on more than one occasion... But even Otis has so little faith in my abilities, I'm starting to wonder if some of my less close friends have just been polite this whole time.
Today, I was making a pepper omelette, actually. And Laci came in with a briefcase. With my arm in it. Which is utterly delightful, thank you Seihl. Actually, now that I think about it, I don't even know where Laci got the case. But apparently there is a painful way to reattach my arm. So I won't go through life a cripple after all. Which is a comfort. I suppose.
There's the listlessly, poorly told story of my arm. I'm not as interested as talking about myself as I used to be, which I think directly affects the quality of my stories, which is unfortunate. I hope I did not bore you terribly. |
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| Denial, *Anger*, Bargining, Depression and Acceptance. |
[Jul. 2nd, 2009|04:52 pm] |
I must admit, oh friends of Quinn, I am not entirely certain how to begin this journal entry. I have been staring at the blank pages before me on and off for days now with inspiration consistently failing to make any sort of striking appearance. I suppose this can be blamed, or perhaps named, as a coping method; it is a truth generally known that the avoidance of acknowledging tragedy can often come hand in hand with the tragedy itself. More frankly: it's easier to pretend that a problem didn't occur if you don't talk about it. But talk about it I must, if only so as to not worry those who are close to me.
My family -- my home -- was deceived and thieved, by the most slippery of snake-oil con men I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. I wish I could say that in the wisdom of hindsight I saw the signs of what came, but that would be a lie; Dalton was as much a master of deception as his associate was a master of destroying the very walls and foundations of my childhood home. While I certainly can not condone their actions, their motivations are much plainer -- and easily understandable: Greed. The greed for eternal life is not something unique to them, though their success in so violently seizing it might be.
In my extended lifetime I have lived through many things. I have lived through great, world encompassing wars. I have lived through sweeping illnesses, and cold war games. I have seen countries rise, and iron curtains fall. I have felt the loss of more family and friends than any mortal soul should - the majority in circumstances too tragic to detail so simply. I have seen riots and famine; air raids and natural disasters.
So to Dalton, and those who associate with him, I say this: you are not the worst thing that has ever happened to me, merely a footnote -- and I am not yet defeated. |
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| Damnit. |
[Jun. 20th, 2009|12:43 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  crushed | ] |
Ian, I owe you an apology.
I'm sorry I didn't listen. I'm really, really sorry.
...
I'm just really sorry. In general. |
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| *locked from everyone* |
[Mar. 4th, 2009|08:20 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | dalton | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  distressed | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Last Call - Lee Ann Womack | ] |
Damn it. Damn it. I don't believe it. I don't believe them. I don't *want* to believe it.
He told me not to believe it. Why shouldn't I trust him? How can I not trust him, if this is ever going to work? I want this to work. Why can't I have something nice? I want someone nice.
It's just politics.
Ian was "just" concerned, and I chased him up a tree! What is wrong with me?
It's just politics.
How long have I been alive; politics is all about smear campaigns, and lies, and deceit -- but you can trust in him. It's just politics.
What kind of person am I, to believe a rumor? What kind of person am I to lash out at a friend?
Please, please, please Lord, don't let him make a fool of me. |
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| *locked from everyone* |
[Feb. 1st, 2009|08:45 am] |
I need to write Angelique a thank you note, and not even for putting out shrimp platters at her parties.
Oh god, I met the greatest man. He's smart and fun, handsome and witty. He doesn't reek of alcohol constantly, he's not homeless, he's not my boss. I think I've finally found someone who won't cheat on me, or "borrow" money from me, or treat me second-best. He knows how to dress, he holds doors open for me, *he* makes *me* coffee in the morning! He's attentive, and sincere, a damn good kisser: I like him. I really do.
Take that rut I've been in!
And it's all thanks to Angelique. ... and, okay, Quinn. Who got me invited to the party in the first place. And who I couldn't shut up about on my date.
But still! Finally, I get to join the immortality twins, and have something go on in *my* life.
I've finally met a man I think could be good for me! I want to shout it from the rooftops!
... I just don't want to tell Quinn. Damnit. When am I going to stop feeling guilty about that? Not that I shouldn't feel some guilt, but ... gah. It's stupid. We're so beyond what happened. He doesn't even miss me anymore -- hell, he doesn't even need me anymore.
And I don't even need him, like that, either. I have Dalton now. |
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| What is sanity any more, anyway? |
[Jan. 22nd, 2009|01:48 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  cynical | ] |
Dear God it's been an eternity since I've written. And yet here my life is still stuck in a bizarre limbo. What's there to say?
Oh, well, one important mention, of course, is that I have vacated the premises of my mansion! This is actually good news, so I'm glad I haven't written in a while. I've bought myself a new apartment in London and if I say so myself it is damned gorgeous. I had much help in moving what possessions I brought over, and on top of that my house was practically decorated for me by my friends; of course absolutely every piece of furniture and art were selected by people with a completely different taste so my apartment is an eclectic mess that any IKEA designer would shudder to look at, but they're rubbish anyway. I quite like it; it gives my apartment personality.
Other news. Women are frustrating and confusing. Wait- apologies- that's not news. But lord they become so much more complicated when you can't have straightforward honest relationships with them. You can't especially say: "I would really like to have sex with you, often. But we aren't compatible romantically, so let's just be friends." to a woman who isn't alright with that. So instead you have to pretend that you don't. Which means you need to lie. And cover your ass. And it is... tiring.
I enjoy parts of both lives, of course, but my previous lifestyle was a world more simple. Less painful. More honest, although I know the monogamous ones among us disagree. There is nothing wrong with a committed relationship. To the contrary, I'm quite interested in having one. But it frustrates me that meanwhile, I can't enjoy myself, because it will turn off the type of women who I'm interested in long-term...
I'm a philanderer. I enjoy it. I'm honest about it. But I could happy with the right girl, as well. And I would be true to her.
...Perhaps I just need to see a woman who can cope with my lifestyle while single. Otherwise I'll always end up with these unfortunate, uncomfortable misunderstandings. |
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| Neglect |
[Jan. 6th, 2009|07:21 am] |
I would not be surprised, oh friends of Quinn, if you were to be of the opinion that I am a terribly unavid journal writer. If my month's long absence from wielding pen and paper can serve as any evidence, it is an opinion formed in fact; I hope you do not think any less of me for it. This disregard is not, you must understand, caused by a lack of ability to communicate my thoughts. No, my laxness has far more benign origins.
You see, I have been ... distracted. Distracted in the best possible way, with a companionship so full of warmth, and so bringing in joy that my days in their company feel like wakeful dreams.
As I have heard, time and time again, from Laci: No one wants to hear about that.
She has a point, I believe. The flaunting of one's good fortune is hardly an example of the etiquette with which I was raised; no one likes a braggart. Someone, please, shoot me, if I've become insufferably Quinn-like, in that regard.
I must admit, it has given me pause, reflecting other instances of my negligence. The possibility that I have been too caught up in my own felicity ... to be so self-centered, like a teenager. It can't be healthy.
My job burned down in a fire. One of my dearest friends was injured.
And yet, I'm still happy.
Doesn't that make me an awful person? I think it must. I just can't seem to muster the energy to care. |
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| Change |
[Jan. 5th, 2009|06:23 pm] |
If you had told me a year ago what I'd know now today, I'm positive I'd have laughed in your face. Quinn moving out? And leaving me behind? Cordelia becoming an almost insufferable, Leslie Gore playing, happy lovesick puppy?
It's amazing the sort of ruts you can fall into if you live long enough, you know that? But, I think what's more amazing, is how quickly those ruts - those constant, seemingly set patterns - can be permanently disrupted, without you even getting a say. I don't like it!
It's a strange time. One of the weirder ones I have had since coming to work for the Gaskells. I really, really don't like it!
So here's hoping 2009 is a year where Cordelia stays happy, and Quinn ... well. Not turning all his laundry pink when he tries to wash it on his own sounds like a reasonable hope. |
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| *Locked From Quinn (Who Would Tease and Gloat and So On, Etc. Etc.)* |
[Oct. 17th, 2008|08:11 am] |
| [ | Tags | | | quinn | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | tentative | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | On Peak Hill - Stars | ] |
It has been a while hasn't it, oh friends of Quinn (and I hope it is not too forward of me to presume -- friends of mine, as well). Much as changed since our last correspondence -- but such is the nature of this world, as it now and ever shall be.
I have changed for the better -- or so I have the audacity to assume -- in these past few months, and that is all due in great part to my association with many of you. Some more than others, undoubtedly, but this journal has opened a new chapter in my life; even if you had but the slightest of involvement in that metamorphosis you have helped contribute to brining a very special person into my life. For that I am forever indebted to you.
On an unfortunately related, but pertinent note, I have been growing increasingly concerned with my investments. It would seem that the financial history of the world is repeating itself in a most unpleasant way, and the stocks that were assured to me to have much future value have proved to be ... less so. (I hesitate to mention this to Quinn, of course, who has always invested in more ... unsavory ventures, and would see this an opportunity to, as the phrase goes, "toot his own horn.")
I suppose that is my curse; however small an advance in joy, I find returned to me, tenfold, in hardship. |
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| God Damn it. *Locked from anybody who knows Lev, and Regan* |
[Feb. 24th, 2008|11:42 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  dirty | ] |
I have always been quite firm in my opinion on this matter, but it is newly reinforced today. Getting drunk is by far the most unattractive thing that an attractive woman can ever do.
The transformation is astounding, it truly is. How the drink turned such a smart, entertaining and beautiful young woman into such a distasteful, shameless and repellent young woman is beyond me, but I hate the fact that it happened. I hate what happened tonight, I hate it with everything I have in me to hate.
She kissed me, she kissed me, why did she kiss me!? Why now? It wasn't right, the timing, the smell of her breath, God help me, what if she isn't single like she thinks she probably is? This is a mess, this is just a terrible mess.
I don't want to be a rebound man.
I want to be the one they want to stay with, damn it.
AUGH, Women! |
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| A strange awareness |
[Jan. 16th, 2008|11:40 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  discontent | ] |
You know- as humans, we do try and force ourselves to accept that some things do not change. You would think, that after all this time, I would have somehow managed to accept this. Yet sometimes it still surprises me. Such as today. Let me explain.
Some of you may not be able to conceive of this- in fact- nobody but Cordelia and Otis, I am certain... but I was once a very shy man. I had no idea what to do with myself. My life seemed limited to me. Short. I was so unsure of what to do with such a deadline hanging over my head that I wasn't doing much at all. I did as my father told me professionally, though I found it unfulfilling. I tried to find a woman to marry, to bear my children, as was the style at the time. But I found myself unable to build any chemistry. It wasn't until I discovered my time had been extended indefinitely that I truly began to live. Ironically, I truly live every day because I know that it is not my last. Perhaps this warping of the old saying is exactly why I have been caught unawares.
I am not entirely certain I have progressed in my ability with women. I have become... uhm- what is the term. Supremely capable in short term relationships, I suppose you could call me. But I am entirely clueless and unable to handle or conceive of long-term relationships. And the issue is that I have now started to desire one. Many claim it is a matter of maturity finally reaching my senses... yet if this is what maturity brings, I am not sure it is so welcome.
Ah, lord, find me a woman who understands the madness that is my life and is willing to live in it? Even a year or two I would appreciate. Just- God, let me find her soon, so I can let go of this bitterness that is poisoning my house. I don't want to be a miserable whiny bitch, but- some things never change. If I feel lost in my life, I can angst better than any pre-pubescents. I really wasn't anxious to return to this state of my life. |
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| And Yet Another New Year. |
[Jan. 2nd, 2008|07:52 pm] |
To be perfectly honest, oh friends of Quinn, I've come to find the concept of "New" Years to be a bit arbitrary and, quite frankly, inane. Just as frankly, however, I've found myself asking who am I to ruin others' celebrations? In that regard, I sincerely hope all those of you who celebrated the passing of the time found it an enjoyable experience.
Quinn and Laci seemed to have made the most of the Eve, at least. Poor Laci, she's still resting from her evening. And Quinn ... well, historically, I've never seen much of Quinn around this time, so perhaps his absence is a good sign.
I, personally, rang in the year watching the oddest television program. It involved a woman who seemed to be named after Tequila and a bunch of relatively famous people visiting her and entertaining her for some inexplicable reason. Still, there are worse ways to celebrate an evening, I suppose. |
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| 'Tis a Time For Hospitality. |
[Dec. 11th, 2007|03:26 am] |
| [ | Tags | | | guests | ] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | Gaskell Manor | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Baby It's Cold Outside - Zooey Deschanel & Leon Redbone | ] |
I must say, oh friends of Quinn, since coming into acquaintance with the lot of you, you have slowly but methodically slipped a certain sense of frenzied activity back into this household -- the likes of which I strain to recall it ever having seen before. To think you are all quite accustomed to this ever changing lifestyle is rather remarkable. I must say it hasn't quite sat as well with me, in fact, at times, it's enough to cause me heart palpitations!
We've had so many guests of late, and proper ones at that -- not Quinn's ladies of the night. Some of them have even been children! It's rather marvelous, we have Fressia's not-so-newly-born newborn with us, we had a lovely toddler girl named Rosie for a bit, and twice we've had a rather peculiar, but charming nonetheless, child named Dari grace us with his presence. It's a whole spectrum of children, the way it used to be for me before.
The way these guests come and go at their leisure they certainly feel like my children, in a way.
In any case, our guests have almost been enough to distract from the recent metaphoric fissures that have cracked the household. Laci and Quinn are ... human. I think it's best if I leave it at that. I am sad, of course, that once again I see less of them. Perhaps in a decade or so things will return to as they were.
In the meanwhile, it is the holiday season, and I do seek to enjoy it. |
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| Fuck Karma. *Locked from Laci* |
[Nov. 28th, 2007|01:14 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  pissed off | ] |
God damn it.
I'm an idiot. I'm a total moron. Why did I waste my time? I made a mockery of myself. Why did I think I could hold any womans' interest? I'm amazed it lasted as long as it did, really. But no women considered me when I was trying to fall in love, why would the one I finally fall for stick around? I'm more worldly, now. I'm damned good in bed. But that does not a long term relationship make.
...And yet now I've lost my taste for other women, too. Since that bastard Jake showed up I haven't seriously thought about any woman but Laci.
Maybe I've grown up too much for eternal youth. This ring is starting to look more like a shackle to me than anything.
Cordelia, I don't need your gloating right now, so save it.
God, I know the bastard is going to hurt her, too. She never picks good men.
Why couldn't I just have kept my mouth shut? I'll never be able to look at her again. |
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| Sinful *Locked From Quinn* |
[Nov. 28th, 2007|12:34 am] |
| [ | Tags | | | quinn, richy | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | anxious | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Criminal - Fiona Apple | ] |
Oh God. Oh God, oh God.
I --
How on earth do I tell Quinn? I'm supposed to be the *good* one in the relationship.
He's been so good to me. So, so, so good. All the time. I mean - yes, he looked. A lot. And he commented. And Lord knows he wasn't shy to making arguments for a threesome. But ... he was good. For Quinn.
I really think he loves me.
How am I supposed to tell him? How am I supposed to *live* with him? How am I supposed to live with myself?
Maybe some day a century from now we'll look back an appreciate the irony of this.
I don't regret it though. |
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