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Name: Hyde
Location: New York, NY

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"Be certain in the religion of Love. There are no believers or unbelievers. Love embraces all." -Rumi

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Ghosts of Hyde

An archive of my journals from the past 15 years. (A Work in Progress)

Friday, October 16, 1998

Double Exposure

So, on the LIRR (again and again and again) and I'm glad that the chaos of the past few days if finally growing somewhat calmer... And this weekend riding horses through autumn.

Today I got my hair cut and the guy cut off way too much.

But why, after all of this (freedom?) carelessness do I feel the clench again?!? Is it because I am going home? (Hello Jekyll!)

Last night we drove back from Brooklyn over the Manhattan Bridge and the skyline was so beautiful-- like the glowing eyes of spirits in blue and gold and purple.

A Rangers game must have just gotten out because this train is really crowded and half of the people are in jerseys.

I hope that it's not weird with AIR7 and Scheisser this weekend... It's weird that I haven't been home since Rosh Hashanah. (I'm burning in the shadows. I'm freezing in the sun.)

Once again, the orange stripes of night stain the ghostly sketches of life in this car and the blackness in my eyes flashes wildly, framed by the stained industrial yellow of these "caution lines." My hair holds golden drops of light, the empty windows of Hopper's heart until the lamps burn like glitter under a flame, melting in and out of their ebony surroundings, into my mouth and through my cheeks... Tiny glowing flames, suspended in mid-air... the teardrops of Saints. (The man was a hero!)

But this city is dead and not a single silhouette strikes my forehead. There are only the lifeless crowded ones floating in my own space, feeling the city as fast as the hum can carry us.

And the stretched black of the sky seems to have endless depth and I Feel as if I am dipping my arm into an endless glove, never to feel my fingers slide into their place, never to press the seams.

The car blurs and the double exposure of all this is like the center of a burn and the most delicious.

Flushing Main street.

Wednesday, October 14, 1998

Sick Optimism

I wonder if things have EVER been this bad (although I know that they have). I'm sitting here on Riverside and the sun is dripping in streaks of gold and blinding orange (too full to see) and the silhouettes of the leaves form a gentle mesh against the sky, sighing and crumbling, in death, to cushion the sidewalk. (Fly away forever, angels. Spread your wings). My hair rests on my shoulders like red-golden straw...

But I want to die when I think about what I have to confront tonight (moonlight on your bed) and I don't' want to be friends anymore... I want ti to be all over (I can find no air. I can find no peace). My dreams are clouded and fragmented. (I can not see the leaves, I can not see the light...)

But life will go on... This time I know it will... That, you can count on.

******************************

Okay... ten minutes later and in Pertutti with a headache and Judy Collins. (The familiar waiter.) And I know that I have grown because all of this makes me unhappy tonight. I will just walk away (But God, I'm scared!). (Far away child...) And I wonder what will be... obviously they will never be the same, but better or worse? (They just dimmed the lights).

It is the most beautiful day out today, though... I want to make a trip down to Patelson's before my voice lesson on Friday, but I wonder if I'll have time.

My tea is here, so I'll close for now.

******************************

anticipation, anticipation, anticipation at 8:32 PM!

I Have to Stop Drinking

Oh God, I want to die... How could I have let this happen (Is this becoming a pattern?). Monday night and the blood and tears at AIR7's and Scheisser's... And tonight we have to "talk it out..." I DON'T WANT to talk it out... This is my worst nightmare and will all have come true in a few hours...

Oh God! Just when I thought things were getting better. I have to stop drinking. I have to stop drinking.

What is happening to me?

Tuesday, October 13, 1998

The Cleanup

Oh my God! I just woke up and it's 11:59 AM and this room is trashed and I don't remember anything that happened or why I'm still here, except I know that I flipped out and I'm sure they think I'm on drugs. (Now, how to make my nose bleed... oh god, it already is!)

And I need to go back to sleep... It is all still in my system. And I am so embarrassed.

*******************************

Susanna was so right. I do everything for someone to take care of me... I've been so much more fucked up than that... Why did this happen last night? Because I make it that way... in some strange fucked up way, I think I wanted it that way, and I hate myself for that.

I remember ChoirMan and my blue nail polish, PhysicsGuy and the broken bag... And the Tylenol out at the bar and slamming my head against the wall and slapping my face, and he said that he doesn't respond to threats. That's good perception because I am a threat.

I'm sure that by this time AIR7 and Scheisser hate me, or are so confused that I'll never be welcome here again, and I wonder if, secretly, I made it that way on purpose. I think I just need some water and some food... God, I hate myself.

This is so embarrassing!


*******************************

Okay. 2:43 and I'm sitting here alone, watching OLTL and I just found "the threat" and I feel like shit and have no money. And Blair is about to blow Todd's cover, but I don't think she will... not on the first day of the trial. Now I think that it's officially over. I crossed that line and then went way past it. God, I hate this...

*******************************

Okay. Later still, and the day has not picked up. It's 4:10 PM and I have 20 minutes until the shuttle comes, here on the steps of "Hammer" and at least I resisted my wrists-- that is definite improvement... And at least now it is ALL out. That I'm absolutely crazy and absolutely fucked up.

I don't know whether it is better to disappear or become an angel... I will have to play my cards very carefully to clean up this mess, and I must never bring up ANY of it again. I'll ignore it... We should all ignore that which makes us uncomfortable.

Now I'm choking on smoke... Fuck! How can I have absolutely no memory of writing that? Of telling him that? HOW could I have let that happen? Why are things always so out of control? Because I make it that way and because it is too much to hold back...

Maybe I should write another letter... And what about school? I should just go home and study... Wednesday I'll study all afternoon... I can't believe ChoirMan found out about the new voice teacher, but I'm glad he did... and I'm glad that I didn't tell him... Now it seems like I'm capable of holding things back... "Suzanne" in my ears... I want to sail now...

It's getting cold and it's making me happy... I guess... Some guy just walked past me with no shirt on. Is he fucking insane? You are... You are... How could you have done that to yourself? And I wonder what AIR7 will have to say about it tomorrow. But I hate all of this pretending and I hate that I feel such defeat, such desperate defeat.

Was this it? Did I have my "Five Week" breakdown? What was five weeks ago? That would put me at around September 8th. Right when school was starting... What was I doing then? Well, I wasn't writing in here, so that probably means that I wasn't breaking down, so the theory doesn't stick... Oh yeah-- I was mad at GoldenFinch. That seems SO long ago... (Who knows where the time goes?)

I just missed the shuttle. Now I have another twenty minutes to wait... But this is not frantic (It was last night, what do you mean?) It is resigned and gray. Fuck him for pretending nothing is wrong!

Remember you used to freeze your fingers off? Well, winter is coming again... let the games being!

And he is everywhere all at once and I wonder how this has changed from those glowing twin suns (because now the stars are real). And I love watching the paper curl and burn.

There's no one left. God, there's nobody!

Monday, October 12, 1998

Suicide Wish

Oh God, I lost you for over a week and chewed my nails off because of it... Things have gotten so much worse in my head, but so much better on the outside... Anyway, I am on the phone with VJ right now and super distracted...

***************

So, in Carmine's later, and all that floats through is him, him HIM. And I know that this is a transfer and I fear the break to come...

**************

I want to kill myself NOW!!!!!! In front of Scheisser and Adam. I want to kill myself... to kill myself... I want to be

**(my drunken handwriting became illegible at this point and I can't read it).

Let me perish please. PLEASE. Where is my what turned

**(and again, the writing is illegible from here to the end)

Thursday, October 1, 1998

Running on "Empty"

From scarped cliff and Quarried stone she cries, "A thousand types are gone: I care for nothing. All shall go." --Tennyson

God, now I really haven't written in her in forever. So much, so much is happening and it is all so markedly different than before. There is a weird lack of emotion at anything that is happening. And oh God, the crush thing has come back as horrible as ever, only this time laced with more of a false reality. Things have so changed though...

I don't THINK anymore. The weights have all gone. It's like-- finally it was enough that I couldn't take it and my mind erased all of it. And I am starting to realize that more people like me than I think.

I have been hanging out with AIR7 and Scheisser a lot lately. It's making a lot of conflict with Amac, BigSis, etc. I think that VJ is kind of weirded out that I'm hanging out with Scheisser too, but I'm having fun and it's really frustrating that I have to tip-toe around all of these other weird relationships.

AIR7 has seen my crazy side (wild, I mean) too, and I'm hoping that I can trust him with it.

I sleep over there a lot-- "the bachelor pad," and it sucks that I just can't be myself and have fun. Everything is becoming more and more tangled as I have to keep track of who knows what, etc.

I had a super long talk with GoldenFinch today, though, and I think that things are okay. I feel really good about it, at least for now. SO things seem to be going okay...

It's so weird for me, though, to be so "empty" like this. I feel like all of my thoughts are almost petty and not worth writing down because they don't carry the weight of my life. It's like I've said before-- freedom from suffocation is not the sweet taste of the air. It is the absence of the choke. It is absence of pain, not joy...

And to be so without extremity is unfamiliar...

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