(no subject)

One thing that may be unsurprising to you lot is that I tend to be very different from my peers (which in this case more or less means fellow teenagers). I haven't really actively tried as much in the past several years (and in fact, I am swinging closer to them as college goes on) but my interest set and worldview mean I tend to have a much different outlook on life than the rest of them.

One thing that probably isn't surprising to you lot is one of HUGE similarities I have with my peer group.

I.
Love.
To.
DRIVE.

Loooove it. Love it to that stereotypical "Oh, you're going to the grocery store, I can drive, oh you want this errand done I'll do it just give me the keys, sure Alys and Nik I will take you to your friends house get in the car oh boy oh boy!!" level, where any chore becomes the most thrilling experience ever, so long as it involves a car.

And yes. I don't really have anything else to say. I'm going to go pet the car some, and try to figure out what people do at eight thirty in the morning besides play on the internet while listening to the Talking Heads playing far too loud on the stereo. (I have the house to myself until at least ten. Loud music seemed to be a must.)

~Sor
MOOP!

X years Ago Today

Five years ago today, it was 2004. And I had voices.

Raf, Ani, Kris, and Ame were the first set of voices I could positively identify by name. Call them proto-denizens, if you will --I tended to call them RAKA. Ani and Kris showed up around the spring of my eighth grade year (2003) (I *think*), Ame a few months after them, and Raf in February of my freshman year of high school (2004).

They would argue, and I would let them, or not, as I saw fit. Occasionally I would draw them. Rarely, they would interact with other people. In ninth grade English, when I learned about the whole id/superego thing, Kris and Ani easily fell into those roles --Ame was merely perfect, and Raf was more or less a boy version of me.

My early livejournal was full of them talking --long, incoherent scripts that tumbled from my fingers and probably didn't really make sense to much of anyone but me. My diary from that period was the same way, pages upon pages of letting the voices talk. Checking the second diary¹ from the time (which has an essay I want to copy in here, it's well written.) I can find the colours I used for them on paper --chosen from a set of coloured pens, we had me in black, Ani in orange, Kris in green, Ame in pink, and Raf in Blue. I don't know that there was any meaning to the colours, although near the end of my ninth grade year, (Mayish of 2004), there very rarely began to be conversations that I would have in my black and a bloody red. Mallory Alice, she called herself (Malice for short) and she was all kinds of frightening to talk to.

Eventually, all five of them disappeared. Before September of 2004, certainly. Not really able to find out better than that without doing a lot of journal trawling that I just don't feel like right now.

Somewhere between Sep04 and Feb05, Gabriel showed up, declared himself my guardian pseudoangel, and started hanging around in the back of my head. Miss Mallory Alis showed up at the very end of January 05, with a correction to how her name was spelled, and a slightly less evil bend to her words. Hyde showed up somewhere in the following year, which pretty much brings us to now.

One of the things that the denizens get weird about is their eventual and inevitable deaths. Hyde just doesn't believe that he will die, Alis is convinced that all who disappear from my mind return (aided largely by the fact that that's exactly what she did) and Gabe is...scary pragmatic. He knows his time is limited, and just doesn't care. The day is certainly approaching --I need Gabriel and Alis less, now that I'm beginning to reach out to actual real world people to support me and cry to when I need to. In a way, it scares me more than them. Somehow, I think I know they'll be alright in the long run, though.

~Sor
MOOP!

1: I have two "diaries" --everything else is a notebook or a file on the computer, regardless of how much more or less personal it may be than the stuff that gets put in the actual diaries. The first spans from 1995 to maybe April of 2004, the second is technically current, and only has a handful of pages filled. I would be looking for stuff on RAKA in my first diary, since I know about half of it was from the period of time where they were most active --I don't know where it is though. There's a space for it on my bookshelf here in Maryland, right next to where the second diary is, but the first appears to be missing.

...And I just relooked, in all the logical places, and short of tearing my room apart and cleaning it completely, I don't know where to look. Okay, this is Not Fucking Good. I was obviously² rereading it and left it somewhere, but fucking *where!?* I know it's not anywhere in Boston, it's not in any of the stacks of books to read in my room, it's not in the pile of notebooks next to the bookshelf, it's not down between the wall and my bed, where the fuck did I put it, nnn!^{3, 4}

2: I say obviously because the alternative is not something I want to consider.

3: nnn, general sound of Sorcyress frustration. Kind of a whining keening whimpering noise. Bad noise, really.

4: Where the fuck did I put it is an important fucking question in this case. I don't really give much of a shit who finds it⁵, about the worst they'll learn about me is who my first kiss was (not actually common knowledge considering I occasionally doublethink the event out of existence) and possibly that I masturbate. Oh fucking no. BUT and this is important, I have lost something that I have written. I am not able to emphasize how fucking scary and upsetting that is to me. I *hate* losing things I've created, hate hate HATE!

5: Well, kindof. Even with the whole not being important thing, there is a privacy that all diaries deserve. No one's diary is ever meant to be read, not by anyone except themselves.