Sep. 2nd, 2004

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I reflect on Schu calling himself the devil and wonder if the devil would be offended, being equated to a lecherous, slutty, mind-reading, generally obnoxious person with a very questionable sense of fashion (no, forest green and bright orange do not go well together, not when you toss a yellow headband and red-lensed sunglasses into the mix).

But the title from today's entry is a complex play of numbers. One, I suppose I ought to apologize, or ask for forgiveness or something in regards to Soujiro for being so angry yesterday...although going on to think that my anger was justified seems to negate that whole deal, and what one ought to do is often opposed to what one will do, so I keep my peace, or not so thereof. While this entry is officially day five, I have in fact been registered for a good six days. And...now there are six roommates. The roommate situated rather unfortunately between Benten and I - for we are both loud and strange and she is timid - is a sweet Navajo girl from Arizona, and I do regret to say that while I can occasionally pronounce her name (but usually slaughter it), I cannot spell it or her easier-to-pronounce-I-knew-you'd-slaughter-my-real-name nickname. I have contemplated naming her Miss Arizona, but I'm not entirely sure how she would feel being titled like a beauty pageant queen. Then again, this is MY journal, and I doubt she'll find out. The roommate who has taken the place of Soujiro (whom Hinata is missing greatly due to the sudden influx of *pink* in her room) is Felicia, a music major, a freshman. Ah, to torture fresh meat. Oops..Farfarello moment. Sometimes I have one of his mad urges as well. *Shrug* C'est la vie! But she seems outgoing enough that we ought not to scare away...although who is to say that we will not try?

But life is going well...I am not stressed and I am quite happy, looking forward to a night of Vampire the Masquerade like the strange little person I am. And I'm trying to get some more poetry together for one of our in-Gang poetry readings...although we're down a poet this year, which is something of a pity. I received two letters recently, one from my friend David who currently resides in Utah's big house, what most people call the state penitentiary, and from my adopted elder brother Derrick, who is serving a relgious mission in West Virginia...two ends of the pendulum's arc...I have written David back but need to attend to a few more errands before I can send the letter, and I have scheduled a time to write Derrick back...Gah! I'm starting to sound more like Brad! Noooooooooooo! I knew it was a bad idea when I thought using that cute little planner thing was a good idea. I promised myself I'd never turn out like Brad...then again, seeing how I was raised to be a little Asian school soldier (the un-professional version of the company soldier) I might just end up like him despite my greatest efforts. Grrr... Tangent aside, if anyone out there like's Neil Gaiman, especially Sandman, go find the webcomic Nodwick and check out some of the sections on PS238 - Dream and Death make some terrific appearances.

I'm also procrastinating on doing my Criminal Justice homework, wandering around in cyberspace and hoping Brad stays engrossed in the Wall Street Journal long enough for me to find a way to look productive and not have to stare down the nose of his gun...again. You'd think me, being a telekinetic and constantly threatened by a mad Amerikajin would make firearms less troubling, but nothing is scarier than a crackshot who can see the future and know that no, he's not going to miss. Ever.

But, I'll leave you to your time now, thanks for tuning in...oooh, dear, sounds like Farfarello disengaged the newest lock on his straight jacket. Gotta go!

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