Tentatively Good Mood

You've already seen where I was yesterday. Or maybe your blog following priorities are messed up. I mainly slept all day, but it was in a bed. With a pillow and everything. Would it be pathetic to say that's the highlight of my year so far? Because it was. Not just the bed, but the shower, too.

And the company, of course. Haven't been able to really speak to anybody about any of this. Have to lie to everyone who talks to me. Don't want to get anyone involved who isn't. Haven't run into anybody who is involved. Even if I did, I'd avoid them. They might misunderstand my situation. But yesterday, I got to speak to people who understand. At least in part. And I feel better for it.

But he hasn't put up what happened last night. That's what worries me. Why it's tentative. I wasn't hurt or dirty this morning. So it might not have been too bad. But Messi knows. Maybe Poe. Soon we all will. Have to find a new subtitle.

If it's really bad, I won't blame you for being disgusted at me. If He uses me to strangle kittens or something, I'll be disgusted too.

I'm afraid to know. I need to. But it scares me.

That Went Badly

I felt like distracting myself from reality today. So I went and saw the last Harry Potter movie. Or tried to see it. I saw most of it.

It was good. I still ship Harry/Hermione but I didn't expect any of that from this one. First part had plenty. Their special effects looked good. Neville was epic. They didn't give enough time to showing who died. I'm not a reviewer. Maybe you noticed. Can't speak for the ending either.

See, Harry was fighting Voldemort and it got all distorted. Video tearing, I believe it's called? And the audio got all muffled. Like it was happening underwater. I look around and nobody else is in the theater. Weren't many to start with. And they were all gone. Look back to the screen and there He is.

Not in the theater. In the movie. He took Voldemort's place. Shot out some tentacles and held Harry up. Blood starts pouring from Harry's scar, then his head splits open. It was horrible. Then it was over. Black screen. I left the theater. People reappeared once I came out the door into the hall. It wasn't time for the movie to end. But I wasn't going back in.

I assume the real movie ended like the book. Harry wins. Bunch of people are dead, but evil's gone. Survivors go on with their lives. Stupid epilogue.

Will any of us live to be in the epilogue?

Just Cleaning

I don't like having that post on here as a post. Didn't write it. Doesn't belong here. This is my blog. The posts will be written by me. Not some irritating troll sent by Him.


But what the troll said matters. Sort of. Because it was His will. So here it is:

FRIDAY, AUGUST 5, 2011

lolno

cant let u do that star fox

Posted by some troll at 22:10 

And the comments. Not mine to delete. Except the ones that are. Anyway:

Elaine said...

... Atalanta, what the fuck is going on?

06 August, 2011 00:53

Atalanta said...

Note to self: Log out next time.

But I believe that's the answer to my question. I'm still here since He wants me to be. Of course. Should've known.

06 August, 2011 15:29

Spencer said...

... you remind me of a kid I know. Started babbling about lack of choice and then he turned proxy. Quitter. 

I think you'e better than that, sweetheart. And believe me, people are listening.

07 August, 2011 16:55

Atalanta said...

I made the same choice as your kid. I chose to save half of my life and the lives of everybody else I knew. The right choice.

This blog? Wrong choice. He wanted me to do it. Why? No way to know. But I believe it's the same reasons I want to stop.

What I need to do is make this useful. Just don't know how.

07 August, 2011 18:52


Spencer said...

There's really no answer to that.
I started a courier service.
Elaine started to research.
Konaa vowed to fight.

I guess it's a different choice for everyone.

Either way, it's something that you'll need to decide on your own. Maybe the blog can help....? I don't know.

As for that kid? He did it for a reason. Abandoned his friends for revenge, it seems. Abandoned... pretty much everything, really. Only thing was that he went back on his beliefs.

... I have to wonder. Are we all going to end up doing the same thing...?
08 August, 2011 13:26

Now to get rid of it. If you want to comment on it or these comments, do that on this one.

Why Am I Here?

I don't know why I'm still here. Nobody knew the boy. Nobody ever will. My reason for making this blog is gone. Don't need a blog to talk to myself. Won't change any opinions of me if I do it out loud. Most homeless people are crazy, right?

And talking to you? I'm not helping anyone. I can't. No way to get to people and no useful knowledge. Might even be making things worse. For you and for me. You see this and have more doubts when your own life is on the line. I see you and remember stuff I'd rather forget. Or I start to hate you because you're free.

I'm going to drop out again. Pretend like I don't know about Him. It worked before. He stayed in His half of my life. I'll put this laptop in the briefcase and leave it here outside the McDonalds. If any of you want it and are nearby, go ahead and look for it. Nobody's tried to steal it before. I don't know why, but I don't believe they'd take it now.

Still writing? No, I'm done. I can't do this anymore. There's no point.

It Was Him

I have his wallet. The guy I dated. The one I thought I saw. And I did see him. Here's his license, his debit card, his library card, all of it. But I don't know why.

If you're jumping to bad conclusions, you're not alone. I waste too much time on maybes. Not doing that again. You can come up with plenty yourselves. As always, I'll never know. Neither will you, unless you're psychic. Is it weird I still doubt psychics when I'm being mind-controlled by an evil god?

Hard to know what to do with this. Not without knowing how come I've got it. What He made me do to him.

That's awkward. Hope my pronouns aren't confusing anyone. I just don't like any of the names for Him. They're descriptive, but they don't describe the important things. And a lot of them are just goofy.

I was trying to write about this wallet. Should I get rid of it? Hold onto it? It could be evidence, right? There's already been plenty of evidence. I should have been arrested a hundred times. Am I invisible to police? I don't even know there was a crime here. He could have just dropped it and I picked it up, even when it wasn't really me. No, that's dumb.

Here, I'm just typing to myself and nobody wants to read this. I'll finish it up.