Cosp( )ay

Things have gotten mad. And then they got better.

Sun, 30 Mar 2008 06:14:36 GMT

For your viewing pleasure, I will compile in a dry and unsupplemented list the events that have unfolded since the last time I posted here.

1) I went to Mello and broke up with him, kicking myself the whole time. I'd realized that I loved them both equally, and I only chose Near because Mello is stronger and I thought he would be hurt the least. I've never cried so hard for so long in my life.

2) I went to Near and told him. Near had little to no reaction. He could barely bring himself to hold my hand.

3) Misa called me up and told me I was a shithead for breaking up with Mello, considering that he has abandonment issues.

4) It took me five hours to figure out that I'd made the worst mistake in my life- nothing between me and Near could ever happen, because Near is so simple and juvenile in the matters of love that I might as well just be friends with him.

5) Another epiphany- Near is just an immature little kid with a crush who got jealous when his best friend started spending more time with someone else.

6) Epiphany number three- I really do love Mello. And he really did love me.

7) I dumped Near's punk ass and went begging for Mello's forgiveness. He took me back with hardly a thought. Mello also threatened to beat Near down for what he did to us. I tried to explain that Near was so childish that he probably didn't even know himself, and that I'd deal with it myself.

8) I went to Near and gave him a piece of my mind, telling him exactly what my verdict was- "just an immature little kid with a crush who got jealous when his best friend started spending more time with someone else." His eyes widened and a thousand light bulbs came on, and he said, "you just put into words the things in my head that I've been trying to figure out all week!!!" His reaction was so genuine and naive, and his relief at figuring out which way was up, so profound, that I had to roll my eyes in pity- he really does have the social intelligence of an 11 year old.

9) We came to the conclusion that, from now on, we were just going to be friends. It was such an amazing relief. Near even promised to apologize to Mello himself. All is well.

10) I discovered that I am, quite randomly and without explanation, deathly allergic to cinnamon. I wound up in the hospital last night due to an allergic reaction that caused my throat to swell and close.

Now that I'm through with that list, I shall later return to detail my Matt and Mello adventure in the city.

Till then, yours truly-
L.

L Cosplay Quote of the Day- "Learning to play tennis so as to improve on your L cosplay probably won't do you much good at the convention. Not many hotels or convention centers have an indoor tennis court."

Merciful Death, Part II

Mon, 24 Mar 2008 13:22:47 GMT

(If you have not read my journal lately, understand that this is the second half of the LAST entry and that it will make no sense unless you go back and read the first half.)

"I've developed feelings for you, Kay."

My world exploded and crashed in on itself.

Five hundred thousand thoughts tore through my mind, not the least of which being, "Finally brave enough to admit it to yourself, no?!" Mostly, terror. The worst possible outcome had occurred. I could finally have my Near, but only at the expense of crushing Mello into the dust.

That van was the definition of "silent as the grave" for the longest time.

My little Near curled into a ball in his comfortable back seat, a safe wall of seat between us, hugging his knees. He rocked a little bit, then looked at me. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head, then nodded. "You have no idea. I've been waiting so long to hear those words..." I reached back and took his hand. And instead of drawing his hand away like so many times before, he gripped it back. I didn't think he'd ever let it go.

"God, am I fucked. Now I have to make a choice."

I contemplated my situation out loud. "I've loved you for so long, and been trying to convince myself I love Mello... when I don't. I hardly even know him. But I knew that it would be the easiest for everyone if I pulled that little deception over my own eyes, because I just KNEW you didn't want me, and that he did. So I just went with the flow of what seemed most natural, despite what it was doing to my heart." I closed my eyes. "Never have I been so wrong before in my analysis of interpersonal interests and relations in a situation." I opened my eyes darkly, my voice heavy. "In the heart and minds of humans, there IS no reason." I gave his hand a gentle kiss. "And I've dug myself into a hole that I'm going to have one hell of a time getting out of."

I climbed into the back seat with him, still gripping his hand. I leaned my head on his stiff shoulder, buried my nose in that curly hair and breathed deep the way I've wanted to for so long. And I kissed the top of his head.

I could sense his strain and how he pressed just a little, subconsciously, up into my kiss, but at the same time drew away. I think he was shaking.

I leaned away from him a little, whispering. "Are you scared?"

"Yeah."

"If this makes you nervous, I could just sit here and hold your hand."

He nodded fervently.

I rested his hand on my lap and stroked the soft skin of his wrist as I told him the story of a boy who had come to eat lunch with me and my philosopher geniuses on the Looneybin Hill my senior year in high school- how on that first day he showed up, I saw a smallish boy, vibrating with nervous energy, who sat a little apart from everyone else and picked at his food in a most peculiar way- how his voice captured my attention with its quirky, off the wall, random, and yet on-the-spot freshness and humour- how, when I looked in his eyes, I saw the most frightening shades of ice and blue- a broken soul- someone bound by reason, logic, beaten down by the vicissitudes of life an innumerable number of times- a tragically beautiful mind that drew me in like an Arctic Sea. And when I looked deeper, my soul became afraid, because I saw something dangerous and unutterably powerful, being caged up and locked away in those icy waters. Sometimes an unclassified, undiscovered sea monster rose from the deep and its indistinguishable form thrilled the surface of the deep, but it never broke free from the watery world it was stuck in. I could see its terrifying icy eyes looking through his, though, and it thrilled my soul, and it was because I was the only person who could see it. But in that beast, I saw potential unlimited. I wanted to unleash it.

The boy was very, very weird. Most people go through their lives trying to be HALF that weird, and few succeed without the cost of their genuinity. But it was obvious that this boy wasn't even trying. He wasn't trying to NOT be weird, either. He just was.

I fell head over heels in love with him that day, and have been ever since.

He just gripped my hand.

I didn't have much else to say. He suggested we go back upstairs before people began questioning.

I climbed out and yanked Matt aside. "He's developed feelings for me."

Matt did a facepalm.

We all piled back into his living room. I discovered, when I asked for a pillow and blanket from him, that my entire body caught on fire with pixels any time he came withing three feet of me.

We began watching X-Men: The Last Stand, Xavier's Home for Gifted Children evoking a powerful image and analogy of the Wammy's House. I fell asleep a few minutes in and woke just for the end. And then Near went to bed. Nothing dramatic. Just peace. And unutterable strain on me and Matt and Near for the painful obviousness of the illusion that had just been shattered into the ground.

I talked with Matt until she fell asleep. I made an insanely long entry on my Livejournal, typing until 2 in the morning. And I contemplated the new life stretching before us. It will never be the same as the lovely, friendly, comfortable, random life we reminisced in the EVOD last night.

God, but by my will, I will do everything in my power to make sure peace is in this family once again, even if it means distancing myself from BOTH of them to avoid creating feelings of jealousy. Then we'll all hurt, but everyone will hurt the same and there wont' be any undue resentment.

I've always been an advocator of polyamory, but how impossible is it to request it of two people who may not be willing to share?

And now, the question for all of my devoted readers (none of which may exist):

Who would you choose? Mello or Near? I must make a choice between someone I've loved for two years and the man that anyone would die to have.

"Merciful death; how you love your precious guilt."

Mon, 24 Mar 2008 09:16:16 GMT

I find myself in the most unbearably delectable and delectably unbearable situation that any Death Note fan would ever have the misfortune and luck to find himself in. I know that my Light Yagami cosplayer is unspeakably jealous of my position.

I'd trade it to her for simplicity if it weren't for the five thousand shades of beautiful, tragic love I'm feeling.

To reiterate my most recent post, my best friend Near is a psychological terrorist, sadist, and my absolute favorite person on the known planet. I've been angry at him for a month just for existing, but things have reached a head.

Misa introduced me to a friend of hers, whom we instantly decided was a dead-ringer for a Mello cosplay and thusly recruited to the Cosplay Task Force. He is unspeakably hot- six feet tall, lanky frame, broad shoulders, piercing blue eyes, and rarely goes anywhere without wearing his own particular brand of Black- a flowing black cloak. I developed a crush on him the instant I saw him. There was unspeakable passion in his eyes.

Someone tossed him a Rubik's Cube.

I nearly came all over myself watching him solve it in four minutes without breaking a sweat, hardly looking looking down at his hands, and it was at this moment that I understood he was truly a Wammy's Boy. Near and I were both slavering over him in secret.

He instantly earned a major cache of brownie points when I found out that he was bi. Made my heart leap a bit- "There's a chance for me, too..."

Misa called me a few days later and asked how I felt about him. I told her nonchalantly that I had developed a fat crush on him, understanding that this information would get around to him, the way that fangirls talk. What I didn't know what that he had called her a few moments previous requesting this information.

Long story short, before the week was out, I found myself hooked up with Mello. I'll have you know our first kiss was on Misa's couch, whilst Volume III of the Death Note DVD's played in the background. And, surprisingly, I couldn't tell you which episode on that disk. He is the first person to ever pull my attention away from my precious Death Note while it was playing. But L's voice from the speakers and Mello's teeth on my neck set the mood for a relationship that could only be described as passionately kinky.

Much madly hot buttsecks did ensue. I have a beautiful bruise in the shape of a bite mark on my inner thigh.

But enough examining the marks left on L's body, let's see where his mind has been bruised. I found myself bound, and terrified. Didn't want to be stuck with one person, and yet, falling inexplicably in love with the embodiment of flame at my side. And my feelings for Near continued to pick at the back of my mind. I didn't want to even be with him because of how much torture it put me through, being convinced that I was just another of his playthings. I knew I'd never have my feelings returned, and Mello begged my attention. So, with 300% of the fervor I'd previously wielded, I tackled the task of mentally rehardwiring myself to believe I didn't love Near at the same time as convincing myself that I really, really loved Mello, and that it did go deeper than the madly hot buttsecks. I told myself I loved him so many times that I began to believe it, and furthermore, I needed him to believe it for me to believe it- I used the word "love" much more lightly than I should have, for which I shall eternally be in regret. I shouldn't have been so careless with his feelings when I understood what a delicate foundation they were resting on, complicated by an abandonment complex- but I knew I'd never have to deal with abandoning him, because loving Near was safe. Near could never show love, and I would never have the harm of falling into a relationship with him.

Enter Matt, my other chaotic neutral beauty. This is where canon ceases to apply to this AU. Having an I.Q. as high as mine is often related closely with insanity, and unfortunately, I did not remain untouched by a most profound form thereof. Multiple personalities.

I wonder if L would have developed them himself if his parents had abused him instead of just dying and orphaning him. That's the difference between our upbringing.

One of my alters has been watching and attempting to court my Matt cosplayer, a most beautiful and strong woman, for a very long time. I've found IM conversations between the two. Thank god the alter involved is Katullus Lexus, a man of his honor, one deluded into being a Knight of Old, bound by the chivalric code. This is what I've pieced together- he is so straight that it's pitiful, and carries around with him a serious macho complex only aided and softened by his love of romance and roses and leading ladies of the court down wisteria graced pathways in the moonlight, held up by a strong backbone of honor, justice, truth, and a driving purpose to protect those weaker than him. While I, being more gay than straight, am not so interested in our Lady Matt, he's hopelessly devoted his heart to courting her. Therefore, through one means or another, using self-specifying verbiage in the lightest possible manner, I've become involved with all three leading Wammy's Boys.

Katullus, being bound to the good of the group, chose to stop courting her at the development of the Mello relationship, simply because he was devoted to keeping me happy, keeping the peace. It was a heartbreaking scene, apparently. Wish I'd seen it. He told her that he didn't want Mello to be unable to trust me by going around his and my backs, using my body to see Matt. He didn't think Mello would understand such things, that he'd think it was just an elaborate excuse to cheat on him (with a GIRL no less) and that it was just simpler for everyone this way. He put his own chance at love on the sacrifical altar of devotion L's state of sanity. It's quite tragic.

A couple days later.

Last week, Misa and I went to Near's house just to spend time, get Misa out of the house so she could stop obsessing over her boyfriend, and so forth. I'd effectively chosen not to love Near, and I was enclosed in a warm happy bubble of feeling that I was perfectly alright with only being friends with him, and perfectly in love with someone else. I established that I belonged to someone else so that he wouldn't have to worry about my advances anymore. Thought this would make him feel better.

And then, the little bastard made a section of my fanfiction to be self-prophesying. He came up behind me and bit me on the neck.

I have never been so unbearably turned on, livid, full of unspeakable wrath, ready to kill, and ready to rape someone's brains out as I was at that moment. He saw that his typical torture couldn't touch me, so he carried it further by doing the ONE thing that I have always widely advertised as the absolutely most erotic thing you can do to me. I've had him come up behind me before to pull my hair and found myself begging him to bite my neck, only to have his hands drop away cold and watch him walk from the room. And he did it right then because he knew I was taken and that I was fragile.

I told Misa, "Get your things together. We're leaving."

I passed him in the hall, and he reached out to me with the most somber look, presumably to apologize. I swatted his hands away, grabbed him by the shoulders, slammed him against the wall, and stopped myself inches from my face at the realization of the gaping Misa who would completely ruin this perfect moment by pulling me off him and screaming that I had a boyfriend. A long moment passed, and I shoved him aside.

I tore back down the hill to Misa's place in complete Mello mode, blasting Children of Bodem and screaming along at the top of my lungs. Made things better but I was pissed at him for a week.

Easter Sunday.

This morning Mello and I had a long talk about Katullus. Thank god that Mello has some personality complexes himself or he wouldn't have believed me. He said, "I know what you like, and what Katullus likes, and I don't care what you do with another girl, as long as I know about it first." Katullus and Matt received their blessing from Mello (and for Katullus, an invitation to play chess some day when he's out, to boot!) Apparently, he and Mello get along quite well and think the world of each other. So, that cleared up that romantic issue.

However, I'd bought Near's cosplay wig earlier that week, and I needed to take it to him and call a truce so I could have my Near cosplayer for Fanime Con. As Matt and I drove up the hill, it struck me just how much I truly missed my Near.

I collapsed into a mess of sobs for a duration of two minutes and forty seconds. Matt got started and would didn't stop for a half an hour after I returned to a state of placidity and euphoria at the knowledge that I just wanted to make amends with my old best friend. Near is one of Matt's best friends as well, and we were all thick as thieves before, and Matt was so depressed at seeing our delicate friendships collapse into the dust. She was so glad that I'd finally decided to try being friends one last time.

As we neared the 7-11 at the top of the hill just before his place, Matt said, as he had many times before:

"Fuck. I need a cigarette."

Keep in mind that Matt is 17, but usually just bums them off her big bro, or when he won't give them to her, gets them in other more devious ways. But I was feeling so euphoric and generous that I looked at her and said, "I'd get those for you." I went completely against my own morals and bought a pack of cigs for a minor.

She looked at me in awe. "Just how much of my existence do I now owe you?"

I pressed a thumb against my lips. "For that- only about 30%." I paused. "Actually, all of it, considering you're one of my successors and a Wammy's boy."

"Christ, you're right. I do."

Another moment passed.

"You're not gonna feel guilty about this afterwards, are you?"

I looked her unblinkingly in the eyes. "No. Why should I? I look at it this way. You're going to get them anyway, one way or the other. You've heard the lectures and you know what a health risk it is, so nothing I say or do is going to change that. I figure, if you are going to put yourself at risk, I might as well remove one risk factor by making sure you get them in a way that's not going to get you into trouble."

"Have I ever told you how cool you are, L?"

We sat out back behind the 7-11 on the curb. Matt lights up, and offers me one. I shake my head. "Asthma. You've heard my excuse before." Another pause. "Actually, I consider you close enough to let you in on this. The asthma thing is a total cop-out. I just don't want to deal with explaining why I really don't want to smoke. But you could put me in a forest fire with smoke thick as walls and my asthma wouldn't be affected. And for the record, I really love second hand smoke. It gives me good memories."

"Like what?"

I smile softly. "Jim's house, one of my mother's friends. His house always smelled of smoke so thickly, and when we were over there, my parents didn't hurt me. They acted like they loved me. It was all for appearance's sake, but I always felt safe there."

Another moment of silence.

"You really want one, don't you?'

"Yeah."

Easter Sunday 2008- I lit up for the first and last time. It was quite a celebration. I also made out with Matt for a good ten seconds on a whim, in spite of- or perhaps in celebration of- the fact that she felt more like a sister-in-law to me than a romantic interest. A very sexy sister in law. It was quite grand, just not caring for a few minutes.

I knew Near would kill me if he knew I'd smoked a cigarette. We chewed some Big Red. And then we jumped back in my van.

Matt said, "You know, I've always had the most badass image of rolling down the road and flicking a cigarette out of your car window."

I'd implemented a staunch "No Smoking in the EVOD (Epic Van of Doom)" rule. I made an amendment- "Nobody but Me is allowed to smoke in the EVOD-" because it was the avowed first and last time I'd let a cigarette touch these lips and therefore only applicable that night. Furthermore, I decided to let Matt break all the rules because I didn't give a shit anymore. I was getting just that reckless. Slipping back into Mello mode again. I threw some hard punk rock on and cranked it up to ear-bleed level. I realized I'd never maxed out my speakers before. It was a night of many firsts.

Just as the lyrics hit "One, two, THREE, FOOURR!!!" I spun out of the parking lot. I fulfilled my wish. I tore up those 25 m.p.h. speed limit mountain roads like a stunt driver. Almost wanted to get in a wreck. I made Matt scared for about ten seconds. "JESUS CHRIST, TAKE IT EASY!!!"

"Fuck no!"

After that we screamed for the thrill ride element. Drifted around a hairpin curve onto Near's road screeching the tires, screaming the lyrics at the top of our lungs, laughing out brains out, not caring.

I will never forget how cool it felt to flick my cigarette butt out of the window as my speakers blasted that it was "ACCIDENTALLY ON PURPOSE!!!"

I pulled into Near's driveway, leapt out of the car with his wig, and screamed, "NEAR!!! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE! MELLO WANTS TO RAPE YOUR SOOOOUL!!!" I laughed my ass off running up the stairs to his living room, and found a very demure Near sitting on his couch folding laundry. He NEVER folds his own laundry. He looked pitiful. (And a little nervous. I guess it always scares him when his L freaks out and becomes inexplicably aggressive.)

I had to glomph him. I smacked an inexplicable kiss on his lip/chin area, and much to my surprise, he hardly reacted. I expected him to hit me. Matt began crying again, but I was still on a spin from the cig. Suddenly, everything was old times again.

We all tried to watch the latest episode of Death Note he'd recorded on DVR, but his recording device was wonky and refused to work. So we elected to pile downstairs and listen to music in the EVOD.

It was hardcore reminiscence in the dark. Conversation switched from the first party we'd ever done together to the best cake in the world to alternate dimensions in which all of us were straight and genderswitched to Raptor Jesus. But then, things had to get serious. It was inevitable. I said, "I need you for my cosplay task force. If we plan on staying friends until the convention, I need to set down some new ground rules."

Matt said, "I'm gonna go for a walk. You two hammer that out and I'll be back."

Silence after she left; and then: "I have a boyfriend now, Near."

"I know."

"Some of what you do isn't appropriate for that situation. Once upon a time, we set down some ground rules. Everything or nothing. I don't remember you ever trying to follow that principle. How do I know you'll follow these ones?"

Silence.

Near: "You know, you were right in your accusation. I am jealous."

"...you mean, jealous of me going out with with Mello?"

He nods.

A grin spreads over my face as I hatch an evil plot. "You know, conventions are crazy things. There are going to be fangirls requesting hot MelloxNear photo shoots. I could find one who'd blackmail Mello with money, and I'm sure he'd be willing to make out with you..." Images of MelloxNear yaoi run through my head.

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what?"

A pause.

"I've developed feelings for you, Kay."

My entire world exploded and crashed in on itself.

An Afterword

Tue, 04 Mar 2008 01:28:45 GMT

Kay's thoughts on "Playing the Game"- Age 19

OR

Finding my Inner Mello

I've never been the angry sort of person. Most people describe me as the most placid, patient, tolerant person they know. Logic rules my life. Emotional outbursts = unneccessary. In a comparison between myself and all the characters in Death Note, L and Near come at the top of the list, and people such as Mello and Matt carry up the very rear. Note my consternation at the simple, subdued depression I found myself in during my LAST post. Now, for me, depression isn't a reaction that is out of the question; merely out of the ordinary. But what is the rarest thing of all is to see me angry. I know it must be because I can't remember the last time I was.

This morning, when I woke up, I was pissed. At the whole world. Fighting mad. That scared me a little.

It took me a little while to figure out that the reason why was because I had spent all of the day previous trying to get into Mello's head for a oneshot fic that I submitted to a MelloxNear community. It had just taken a good 24 hours for the full effect to hit. (Read it here. It's hot.   http://community.livejournal.com/dn_yaoi/212786.html?#cutid1)

Something you must understand is that Near is my best friend. No. I mean it. My best friend, Jason, embodies the bastard in every single possible way, from the cut of his hair to the way he sits to his calculator-like logic to his tendency to sit on the floor all day playing with K'nex. He's 17 years old, can't drive himself anywhere, but is in college with me, taking trigonometry. Once I got to the part in the manga where Near was a major character, I kept having to do double-takes every time I walked into Jason's living room.

The bit where he deviates from canon a little is his sadistic tendency to pull my hair and generally abuse me in every possible way. It got to the point where I decided that this is what Near must have been like at the age of 17 and therefore I found it unbearable not to write a fiction in which I put forth my dillemma. I chose to write from Mello's point of view. The interesting thing is that almost up every single word in that fiction, up to the words "I had lost the game", is a true sequence of events (aside from IC things such as the likeliness that I would just beat up anybody else who tried to pulls something like that, etc.) It took me until this morning to realize just how really pissed off my situation makes me.

I had unusual sequences of events playing in my head as I left to pick him up, mostly dramatic stuff like pulling over to the side of the road and telling him to get out and walk, or pulling over to the side of the road and screaming my lungs out at him, or pulling over to the side of the road and raping his brains out ... mostly things where I would have to pull over to the side of the road because I couldn't imagine trying to have a conversation with him in this state of mind and not having a wreck on my hands. I tore out of my driveway with spinning tires, blasting "We Will Rock You" because that was the only track on my entire Queen album that didn't irritate me this morning. I felt like driving recklessly. This is someone who generally sticks to the speed limit because I figure that they must put those signs up for a reason. But I wanted to rip around corners like a stunt driver.

I found out at that screaming along with music is good therapy for those in a pissy mood. I had to wonder what the people driving towards me at 6:30 this morning thought of the crazy-ass guy in the van yelling unintelligibly at nothing and making wild gestures with his right arm. Really, all that was coming out of my mouth was "BUDDY YOU'RE A BOY MAKE A BIG NOISE PLAYING IN THE STREET GONNA BE A BIG MAN SOME DAY...", but the entire scenario made me laugh like a maniac. By the time I got to Jason's pick up point, I felt in a much more positive, albeit aggressive, mood.

He got out of his mum's car and walked to the spot three parking spaces away where I'd screeched to a halt. I'd just started the track over a few seconds before. His eyes widened quizically, and he opened the door to find his typically placid L lounging back over the seat in a very non-L like fashion, grinning quite madly and evilly back at him. He got in cautiously and spoke over my blasting Queen.

"I could hear your music as you came into the parking lot..."

I laughed madly and made an announcement.

"I am pissed at the world.  I'm going to play my music as obnoxiously loud as I damned well please and there's not a fucking thing you can do about it."

He looked at me oddly.

"As I reach over and hit the off button..." he started.

"Don't you fucking touch that thing. I'll kill you."

He believed me.

I typically don't use the word "fuck" unless I really, really mean it, and here I had just used it twice in the space of 30 seconds. He could tell something was off. I slid my eyes over to him as I shifted into drive.

""Let's just say I got in touch with my inner Mello. And since you're Near... that doesn't put you in the best position. In fact... it was probably a very bad idea for you to get in this car with me this morning."

I roared out of the parking lot with a very tentative looking Near in my passenger seat.

***

Long story short, there was no dramatic sequence of events. I did have a disturbing moment in which he almost exactly quoted one of Near's lines from my fic. About the fifth time I made a point about how seriously angered I was, he said, "You know, usually, when people get angry at me, I go, 'Finally, I was wondering how long that would take.'" I looked at him and screamed. Me not being the screaming type, he nearly jumped out of the window.  That was about as exciting as things got.

Overall, I remained in a state of extended anger for a good three hours before I realized that it just didn't suit me and that furthermore, I was getting to where I was enjoying it and I didn't want it to go away, at which point I realized it was probably best just to let it go and return to my typical state of placidity. Being mad at him didn't fix the situation in the least. I've come to the conclusion that, as long as I wish to remain friends with him, I'm just going to have to put up with his little mind games. I'll just find some way to outsmart him.

After all, I am, as nature dictates, L.

L cosplay quote of the day: "I recieved more inexplicable candy, pastries, donuts, etc. on the day I cosplayed as L than food, period, the entire rest of the convention. An L cosplayer will never go hungry at a convention, for the simple and unexplainable fact that L's fans just love watching him eat sweets. This is a conundrum I am much more prone to exploit than try to explain."

Navigation, and a Detour from my Posting Style of Choice.

Fri, 22 Feb 2008 02:19:52 GMT

I have to wonder. I always have to wonder. It doesn't happen to someone like me very often, but it always makes me wonder when it does. It's one of the elements which fuels my illogical speculation that, if the world is controlled by Fates of a sentient nature, these Fates must have a very, very sick sense of humor. They also must be very bored. I have no illusions of deserving more of their attention than anyone else; however, if my theory were true in a hypothetical sense, I must follow by concluding that, for no reason other than watching my assumedly unique reactions, I must be one of their playthings.

All in all, the subject of this entry deserves to be in a journal more suited to, frankly, complaining, and less oriented towards the particular hobby of cosplaying L. But considering that this marks one of my first emotional outbursts since L integrated so intrinsically with my being, I feel it deserves mention in this place. Also, simply put, I don't have any other place left I feel comfortable or motivated to post it in. I could say, quite melodramatically, that this is my last sanctuary.

You must now be saying to yourself, "What was he WONDERING about in the first few sentences? Is he going to elaborate on that?" Alas (from my reader's perspectives, anyway), I have not abandoned that thought. My question is this:

Why is it that, only when you most want someone you can speak with to be online, nobody is there?

You'd be willing to strike up a conversation with someone you haven't IM'd in a good two years, just to know that someone else is out there, drudging through the same painful life you are. It always improves things, at least for me, when I can get online, type "I've had a very shitty day," and get a reply to this effect- "No way! My day has been very shitty as well!" I wanted to share my insights on the case of the internet stalker who has been beleaguering a lady friend of mine. I wanted to inform a colleague of mine that it is proof positive that the person I suspect by 99% is said stalker if he only messages her during weekends, since he has no internet access during the week. I wanted to ponder together with the resident philosopher on my buddy-list about the nature of what composes a wonderful kiss, for, of the dozen-odd people I'd wound up kissing in my long and sordid past, I had only just experienced a kiss that I would officially call "wonderful" the night before, with the aforementioned stalker-plagued lady friend. I wanted to talk about anything that would take my mind off the ridiculously embarassing, and foremostly, frustrating, events of the day. My mind wandered repetitively to the speculation that L must have chosen to leave his place of work and living on such rare occasions because navigation might have been one of his precious few weak points.

Granted, the winding mountain community I recently moved to and the web of twisting, befuddling roads that grace its existence can disorient even the most travel-hardened. But that excuse shatters to the ground when you're pulled over in an inexplicable golf course, staring awkwardly at the Mapquest you had to go back and print out, and cursing the gods of the road and yourself for this utter stupidity. Then, too, that snowstorm came and pushed me and my two-wheel drive van back down the hill with my tail between my legs, and while I don't have to technically say that I never "found" the place I was looking for, it is with some remorse and bitterness that I think I never conquered the mountain. My navigational skills aren't in question when it comes to the reason that I ultimately could not complete my quest, but it shames me to think that, if that storm had not shown up, I might still be wandering out in the wilderness somewhere, chagrined and possibly sobbing with insanity at the shining green road sign that consistantly escaped my vision. Retrospectively, I think I must regret more that I never had the chance to find out whether I COULD find it or not. This is not over. When the weather clears, by God...

This defeat, this kick to my intelligence, has left me feeling utterly alone and inconsolable, with stark contrast to the days I spend gloriously alone, reading, studying, thinking; or on those days with school, wandering my college campus, looking for some place that isn't populated with those creatures that provoke my most powerful suspicions and disdain- humans. There are precious few days anymore where I actually seek the company of others. Others wind up seeking me out; I feel dozens of threads wrapping round my throat, symbolizing the claustropobia of the human connections I've now accumulated. I'd cut them all off save the few useful to me in some way, the ones intelligent enough to spark my imagination and get in a real debate with, the few people in this world I actually consider friends. I've spent more time circumventing the uncomfortable situation of socializing in the past six months or so than in the rest of my public scholastic life. (Granted, my deposition into a public school at High School Freshman level makes my "public scholastic life" much shorter than the average young adult...) All that said, it should strike my readers as odd that today, I wouldn't care who decided to seek me out, as long as I knew I was sought after. This is an alien and contradicting feeling to me; or at least, very, very long forgotten.

It seems, in respect to the question above- why nobody is there when you want them to be- can be turned on its tail concerning the rest of my social life. Why did I develop so many more human connections when I realized that more connections were the last thing I wanted?

It is possible, dear Fates, for me be more paranoid, but not by much.

L Cosplay Quote of the Day: "This wig- this new one that just arrived from Hong Kong- well, in contrast to the last two I bought, this wig actually DOESN'T look like roadkill."

Prologue: And Thus, Was This Journal Brought Into Existence.

Sat, 16 Feb 2008 16:13:15 GMT

That must be what makes the real world different from cyberspace. Freedom.

Allow me to clarify- the ability to start over and break all ties with the past, to be able to reinvent oneself, and pull the wool definitively over the eyes of the entire world screams freedom to someone like me; someone incapable of turning around without making some unspeakable social blunder. When your mental state is too unstable to control as absolutely as the average person and little unexpected riddles and monologues spin wildly and unwarranted off of every encounter you make with some sparking element of life, you need this sort of freedom just to maintain a facade of sanity, let alone any semblance of true mental stability.

Utter embarassments in real life must be lived with, lived down, built upon, and buried by nothing but time. Certainly we can start over in real life by physically picking up and moving somewhere else, but it's rarely worth the trouble, no matter how deep the mortification is.

But coming online onto a community, making a melodramatic statement of angst about something that ought never to be angsted after, coming off entirely the wrong way, and being made a painful fool-- all this can be fixed easily, given a new username and e-mail address. Granted, being in a state of mind I could only equate to a sarcastic, depressed, and attention-whoring Beyond Birthday didn't help then, and being in a similar place probably won't help me now. However, I've got a grip on what kind of people I'm talking to now. Modifications in behaviour are calibrated. Clarifications of intentions, particularly of humour and sarcasm, are bolded and italicized in terms of importance in the queue of possible script to be channeled onto the page. This is something I'm used to. How else might I have come by 40+ aliases in my past?

I'd given up on this modus operandi two years prior. The effort began to surpass the need, and my chameleonic voices echoed into obscurity online for what I assumed to be forever. However...

This tiny corner of life has become too important to me to let pass up whilst watching from the sidelines forever.

How can I let escape the one thing that sparked my passions alive after I'd thought I was dead, trapped, and cold forever?

L Cosplay Quote of the Day:
"I know my eyes have been open wide enough, and for long enough, when I blink and my eyeballs feel cold."