Notes to Cindy: The Archives

I wasn't able to read, write, draw, or anything else that I normally do on weekend nights, here, yesterday. The Staff turned my light off at eleven like they do on weekdays. I tried to argue but cut short and reluctantly willed myself to sleep. I forgot to mention that we have two Zachs' now, too. It's strange. Fun Friday was okay. I got to really meet Brittany and this ne Lauren. They're both really cool. Today sucked on all levels. We went to the awards closet and I got a few markers. Staff took all of my markers, except one, and put them away somewhere. That pissed me off. I ended up sleeping most of the day away. It was terrible. Jose and CJ both tried to fight one of the new kids. The peace has lost a chunk of followers. When will these people - when will society- realize that, yes, violence can solve things, but what's the fucking point of violence for the sake of violence? I will write more later tonight- hopefully....

Oh, fuck all! More violence! Mark S., CJ, and Jose got into a big fight. I never would have seen that coming! So much yelling. So much aggression. So much tension. So much terror. God, I'm ready to come home! Cannot anyone see that I am mentally and physically ready? But, no. I have to stay here until they find me a PRTF, where I will have to stay for another few months. It looks like I will be graduating High School a few years late- if I'm able to graduate at all. None of the schools in my area will take me. It looks like I'm fucked as far as my education, or any hope for a good life, goes. Oh, please don't let that be so! CJ flipped out again. We were sent back to our rooms for a third time and Mark L., finally too sick of the bullshit to cope, flipped out a little, himself. I finished the Hemmingway novel today and started on the book that Beverly had bought me the morning before I arrived here. I hate the weekends. The hall is permanently closed down for the night. Hell, there were days at Palmetto where we would be locked down for days at a time. It had gotten even more violent there than here. Fuck, there's ten times more violence in places like this than juvie and jail combined- at least, from what I've seen, anyway. I'm so sick and tired of all this shit! This was supposed to be the good half [of the ward]! Peaceful. These last few days, though, have just been hell on earth! We usually get brownies every Wednesday and Saturday for good behavior. No one on our hall got one today, and most of us behaved, for the most part. In the end, ___ and I were left without major point losses. I did lose 5 points for slamming my door the morning after the marker incident. I'm still upset about that, but not enough to gripe about it. To get angry and act out for such a thing is almost as bad as what happened tonight- only, like, thirty-times less. I'm fucking sick of all this! Now someone's banging. That, I am used to. That, I can handle. The rest of this senseless, immature, overdramatic shit, I just can't handle at all! Banding is all of that, but it doesn't have near so much of a consequence. CJ is crying and screaming about something.

All is quiet. Too soon. More yelling. In Palmetto, when we got locked down, it meant exactly that. Our doors were locked. More crying. When does it all end? He keeps screaming, "It hurts!" over and over again. What hurts? He sounds like I used to during a spanking. It's pathetic. They turned my lights off. I can't see shit. I guess I'll just write more tomorrow....

Wow. I actually write pretty good in the dark, even if it's not on the lines, at all. I went out to use the restroom, and when I came back, Heather was looking for me in my bedroom. I just left the light on. I'm at a loss of words in my own journal- even after such a day. I keep having vivid flashbacks of myself and Autumn, followed by fits of cringed panic. People always say that life is perception. They have no idea how wrong they are. Have you ever said something was a very long time ago, and although it seems that way, it was actually only a few months ago. And vis versa. Have you ever said something was a few weeks ago but it was actually a year ago? Even if you haven't said it or thought it, chances are you have felt this confusion before. In places like this, you feel both situations a lot. What's truly odd is to feel them both simultaneously. It is like feeling something so cold it seems hot- a total mixup of the senses. My time spent with Autumn- over the phone, on the internet, through mail, in person- seems so long ago, but only so short.. like yesterday... but it's been half a year. God, has it really been that long? I've never felt this strongly about anyone before. The only thing I've ever felt this strongly about is literature, and she completes my literature. Where I mis-spell, she corrects, where I fall, she stands up, and vis versa. Some would think it foolish to say I can't live without her, but it is like modern technology- yes, we;ve lived without it before, but we no longer really know how. What if electronics just suddenly vanished? How would we contact each other? How would we get around? It's so easy now, and we all take it all for granted. I wouldn't even be able to write right now if electricity vanished, for nothing would power the lightbulb and I would be left in the dark. We all would. We have become accustomed to modern life, but News Flash: How much of all of this was here even 10 years ago? Fifteen? Thirty? Now take all of that and find how much of it was even affordable to the average family. Again, how much of that was as advanced as it is now? You couldn't live in the old world and neither could I. Be honest with yourself. I could no more live my life without Autumn after welcoming her into it than anyone could live without the essence of the new world after being born into it. Even if she were to die, or dump me, or move and lose contact, or anything else like that, what I'd learned from her would continue to have an effect on my life. Now what have you gained from this new technology-clad world that will stay with you until this new world disappears? I can't imagine a damn thing. From Autumm, I would carry knowledge, experience, passion, memories, love, hope, and so much more than can be said in simple monologue! If you look back, you can see that you have carried all of this and more from a great many people throughout your life. I always say that everything happens for a reason. I stand by that further through this entry. All the individuals you've ever interacted with- remembered, or not- have left an impression upon you. It is unescapable. If, from birth, you were locked in a room with all of the necessities of survival, but without ever seeing another living thing, you would surely die, and even if you somehow lived to be your current age, you would have no personality othan than "Survive! Survive!", which would not even really come in words, for you would not even know how to talk, let alone eat correctly, which is why you would likely die extremely early. I'd give you, perhaps, 72 hours at most... which I'm fairly certain is pushing it, but I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt, because I honestly have no earthly idea, let alone universal... or inter-dimensional.... I have no I-Fucking-Clue what time it is. My guess is anywhere from around one-thirty to two in the morning. This is the most I've written in my journal for a good while. I've been here for fourty-four days. That's one month, two weeks, and two days! It doesn't even seem like that long, at all. But, when I think about the last time that I spent time with anyone outside of these crappy places, the time that was supposed to be a welcome and not a goodbye, it seems milleniums off. "Cringed Panic"- my reminder of incentive. When I mentioned "the cringed tension of prying eyes" in my song, "Puke" [now titled "ACT V / SCENE 1: Thank You All For Coming"], I was mainly talking about the feeling of being in a room with now where to hide from the people trying to get into your head- in this case, hiding all my secrets from the therapists, and social workers, and doctors, and such. But there are prying eyes inside my head too... Aris, Arson, all of the people I've made promises to, the people back home worrying about me. I wonder if Lauren has called Ashely yet to tell her to pass on where I am....