working title project

[johnnymyers]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
This Journal Belongs To:
Johnny Myers
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Read at your own risk.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

PAGE ONE

[/color]

[johnnymyers]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

ENTRY ONE

I met Lizzie today on her lunch break from work. Mum Josephine got her a job at our church as the receptionist for the rectory. According to Lizzie, "It was the only job she'd let me get, and I needed the money." She needs the money because M Josephine recinded her allowance, and she needs to have some sort of savings for University next year. We had to go out of our way to eat lunch together, finding a little dive bar where no one would recognize either of us. This whole "sneaking around" thing is starting to wear on me, but I haven't seen her in so long. Despite everything, she's still my twin sister. She missed me too. At least, that's what she said.

I didn't tell her much, despite her constant questioning. Lizzie's a smart girl. She knew something had happened and that's all she needed to know. She gave me this tiny little book as a late Christmas present, though I knew it's because she worries about me. Apparently, writing your feelings out to a book helps you get over things.

I guess we'll find out.

[/blockquote]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
PAGE TWO

[johnnymyers]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
In our family portrait, we look pretty happy.

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[/center]

ENTRY TWO

Emmancipating Luke is going to be a lot harder than I thought. First, I'm going to need Luke's consent (by means of his signature). How the hell do you convince an eleven year old kid that the best thing for them is to get a divorce from his parents? I mean, I'm sure if I told him what he'd really be in for, he'd consent, but I don't want to have to scare him into it. I don't want him to ever really know why. At this point, I don't even care if he's going to resent me. I'd rather have him resent me for not knowing what I'm doing for him, than have him hate me for knowing what I could have done. If I leave him there, with them, and they do what they did to me to him... I don't think I'd be able to live with that.

Still, as if it won't be hard enough to convince Luke, I somehow have to get both of my parents to sign on the papers, too. My grandfather has agreed to come with me to talk to them about it, but I don't think his presence there will really help with my bat-shit-crazy mother. It might make it worse. Then, the process of becoming his guardian is even longer and more difficult. I just have to keep telling myself that it'll be worth it.

This kind of stress is a nice relief, to be honest.

I still haven't unpacked yet. Well, most of my stuff, anyway. I think Jenna's going to kill me eventually with all the boxes I'm leaving around the apartment. I still need a tux for Khai's wedding-- and I still can't believe I'm going. Lily's getting married at the end of the month. She invited me after I helped her out the other day. Is it tacky to wear the same tux twice within the span of a few weeks?

Eh. Not like anyone will really care or notice. I doubt Khai and Lily have similar guest lists.

[/blockquote]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Let's play pretend and act like it happens naturally.

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
PAGE THREE[/center]

[johnnymyers]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It's 2 a.m. and she calls me 'cause I'm still awake.

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[/center]

ENTRY THREE

I bet if someone were to stab me right now, I would bleed coffee.

That was... terribly gothic of me.

Still, I just can't stop drinking the stuff. I started a month ago when I was having trouble sleeping, and I can't seem to knock it off. It's delicious, addicting, and delicious. Did I mention it's fucking delicious? Like an orgasm in my mouth, except less sticky.

That's right, I went there.

Fuck, I'm hyper. This is only my sixth cup. It's three am. I want to play the piano, but Jenna's sleeping. I could draw. I shouldn't draw. I could draw. I don't want to draw. I haven't wanted to draw since Lucas broke up with me.

Oh, for fuck's sake, I'm going to smoke a cigarette.

[/blockquote]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
PAGE FOUR[/center]

[johnnymyers]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I'll never talk again;
Oh, boy, you've left me speechless,
You've left me speechless, so speechless. . .

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[/center]

ENTRY FOUR

He sent it back.

My question is: What the fuck does he expect me to do with it?

[/blockquote]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
And I'll never love again;
Oh, boy, you've left me speechless,
You've left me speechless, so speechless. . .

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
PAGE FIVE[/center]

[johnnymyers]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Having the love of your life break up with you and say, "We can still be friends," is like. . .

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[/center]

ENTRY FIVE

I thoink I'mm drukn enoughh to write abouthis.

Holyshi. Maybe if I could write atall. Myhand keeps smudging the ink togther. F u c k, I a m d r u n k. T h e r e. I c a n w r i t e r e a l l y b i g a n d I d o n ' t s m u d g e t h e w o r d s a n y m o r e.

H e b r o k e u p w i t h m e. Aftr sying he woldn't. O h. S h i t. R i g h t.

Mabe I'm t o o drnk t o w r i t e ths dow.n

F U C K Y O U, L U C A S.

... ddn't meean that. Prmise. N o t t h a t h e c a r e s.

Wont evn seeee this.

[/blockquote]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
. . . your mom telling you after your dog dies that, "You can still keep him. . ."

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
PAGE SIX[/center]

[johnnymyers]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I can't believe what you said to me,
Last night we were alone . . .

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[/center]

ENTRY SIX

This is the plan.

I'm going to just write everything down without a single comment on how I feel about any of it. Then, after it's written, I won't have to think about it anymore.

I met Lucas. And I was a bit of a douche to him, but the fact of the matter was that this kid that I didn't even fucking know was just staring at me like I was some freak show on display for his sole amusement. And, okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating that now because I'm pissed and upset and hurt and a bunch of other fucking adjectives, but it wasn't the greatest meeting ever.
I made out with Lucas. And gave him a hand job. Don't worry, he returned the favor.
Lucas and I got together. Easily the greatest day of my life.
Lucas came out of the closet for me. Okay, maybe this might just be the greatest day of my life, because it was when I first realized that I was in love with him. I'm not, anymore. That'd be stupid.
I graduated. Bittersweet. Lucas and I had to say good-bye to each other after that. I wasn't going to see him for a whole fucking month.
Lucas gives me his arrowhead necklace during the train ride home. "I want you to have a piece of me."
Lucas invites me to Kiki Valentine's gala. Which seemed like a nice thing to do.
I show up. Dressed up and everything. What a waste of a suit.
Lucas breaks up with me. Worst day of my life, by far. Even worse then when my parents kicked me out -- shit, it was worse than every day of that one summer put together.
I give back his necklace after smoking with Wes Carrington. Because what am I supposed to do with it anymore?
A few days later, he gives it back. If he originally gave it to me so I'd have a "piece of him", and I gave it back after we broke up because, let's face it, if you want nothing to do with me, I want nothing to do with you... why the fuck would you send it back? Why did he send it back? What am I supposed to do with it? It wasn't even mine to begin with. FUCK YOU, LUCAS.

Okay, I only wrote that because I'm confused and hurt and because I have no fucking clue what I'm supposed to do right now.

And isn't it awesome that I could totally write this without a single comment afterwards? Gee, I'm getting over this so quickly. I'll find someone else in no time.

Idiot. I'm a fucking moron.

... there. Now it's out there.

[/blockquote]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You threw your hands up ,
Baby, you gave up, you gave up. . .

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
PAGE SEVEN[/center]

[johnnymyers]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Now I see the world as a candy store . . .

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[/center]

ENTRY SEVEN

Jenna took that picture. She gave it to me hoping that I'd see how unattractive I look when I smoke.

I think it's probably the best picture of me in a while.

Of course, I didn't tell her that.

... I do hold some value to my life ...

[/blockquote]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
. . . with a cigarette smile saying things you can't ignore. . .

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
PAGE EIGHT[/center]

[johnnymyers]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It rains when you're here and it rains when you're gone.

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[/center]

ENTRY EIGHT

<< Reserved for the Lestrange Wedding and events that followed... >>

[/blockquote]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Cause I was there when you said forever and always

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
PAGE NINE[/center]

[johnnymyers]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Do you have the time?
To listen to me whine?
About nothing and everything all at once. . .

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[/center]

ENTRY NINE

How do they fit so many tiny little bones into one foot? I don't understand it. I can't feel them, but they're there. They have to be there, right, even though I can't feel them? Are you supposed to feel your bones? I can kind of feel my arm bones and my leg bones, but I can't feel my feet bones...

So how do I know they're there?

My eyes tickle. Kind of like my eyelashes are feathers and are just tickling my eyes because that's what feathers do. They tickle. I think it'd be neat if I had feathers for eyelashes. Actually, I would love to be a bird. No. Actually, why would I say that? I hate flying.

I think I just like feathers -- do birds have bones in their feet? I wonder if humans are the only ones with bones in their feet. If birds have bones in their feet, can they feel them? I'll have to ask my owl sometimes. Not that she'll ever answer me. She'll just bring me a dead rat.

I don't want a dead rat -- I just want bones in my feet!

[/blockquote]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
. . . I am one of those
Melodramatic fools --
Neurotic to the bone, no doubt about it . . .

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
PAGE TEN[/center]

[johnnymyers]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sometimes I give myself the creeps . . .

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[/center]

ENTRY TEN

Sometimes, I just want to believe in God. Sometimes, I just want to be able to say that someone out there, far greater than myself, exsists and is controlling everything that goes on in my life. I'd like to be able to stop caring because I know that "some big guy upstairs" is taking care of it.

Except that, apparently, even though this God created me in his own image, he hates homosexuals and I'm going to burn in hell.

So, there goes that idea.

Still, as I'm sitting here, stoned out of my mind because I've just spent the past three days locked in my bedroom and smoking what has to be the world's best plant on the planet?

Yeah. Pot makes me want to believe in God.

Just so I can fucking thank him for creating it.

[/blockquote]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
. . . Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me . . .

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
PAGE ELEVEN[/center]

[johnnymyers]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Nothing can touch me . . .

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[/center]

ENTRY ELEVEN

I don't really understand how it happened, but this could quite possibly be the best thing to ever happen to me. It takes away those... suffocating feelings of helplessness and hopelessness and replaces them with this euphoric high that I can't even describe. The only downfall is that it's temporary. After a few hours, it all sinks back in.

Right now though, it's pretty spectacular.

Still. As high as I get... as totally fucked up as my brain gets... I still can't stop thinking about it. About him. I could stare at a fucking wall for six hours straight because I'm convinced the paint is alive -- true story -- and still, in the back of my head, I'm wishing he was here and protecting me from the evil paint monsters. I can eat my weight in chocolate bars and pizza pies when I'm totally stoned, and all I'm thinking about is how much he'd disapprove being the total exercise junkie that he is. I already gave up drawing. I'm almost at the point where I want to stop making music just because I only seem capable of playing either sappy love songs or heartbroken ballads, and I swear Jenna will kill me if I serenade her with some awful pop song again. Training's great because they kick my ass so much I don't really have time to think about him.

But after training?

Yeah, I'd be a mess right now if it wasn't for Wes Carrington.

... and now I can't stop giggling at the irony.

[/blockquote]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
. . . But why do feel like this party's over?

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
PAGE TWELVE[/center]

[johnnymyers]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Its gonna take a long time to love.

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[/center]

ENTRY TWELVE

Lily and James are getting married tomorrow. I just left Lily's parents' house after some last-minute preparations. She's stressed out of her mind, and it was nice to deal with someone else's problems, even if just for a few hours. She's got a lovely set of parents, Lily does. Her sister I could do without -- reminds me too much of my mum Josephine for my liking. Still, she was beaming as I floo'ed back here, and that's all that matters.

Everyone else is happy, and I'm bound to stay the same. Sometimes, it's just not fair. Sometimes, I want to be the one beaming. Everyone seems to believe that I'll get there again. Everyone seems to believe that it's only a matter of time before it's my turn.

Sometimes, I wonder if my turn came up already. I wonder if Lucas had really been my last shot at being truly happy, and if it was taken away from me as some sort of punishment.

I really hate being Catholic. Not just sometimes. All the time.

The fucking guilt gets me every time.

[/blockquote]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Its gonna take a lot to hold on.

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
PAGE THIRTEEN[/center]

[johnnymyers]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I thought I did my best . . .

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[/center]

ENTRY THIRTEEN

The wedding was attacked.

I couldn't save Lily's parents.

Because I was too fucking stoned and I walked right into a curse.

They said I nearly died.

I thought I did.

... and then I woke up in Mungo's.

Mmm, nope. Not nearly stoned enough to write about this.

Guess I don't learn from my mistakes...

[/blockquote]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It was nearly good enough . . .

[/font]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
PAGE FOURTEEN[/center]