Blurty for Fumimaro Kakinomoto.

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Thursday, December 18th, 2003

Subject:Distant Relatives
Time:6:06 pm.
Mood: accomplished.
Music:I Hate Everything About You...Three Days Grace.
The cold rain hit his nose first, it always did. The droplets then hit his shoulders, hit his chest, and made a home on his feet. The ground he stood on was muddy, many graveyards had that tendency during a storm. Michael didn't care about anything but what stood below him which were two mineral gray markers that read the names of his parents.

He looked to his mother's and thought of how beautiful she looked when the casket closed on her. She never looked so graceful and majestic, as though she could wake from her long sleep and take to the sky. Michael turned and looked to his father's. He thought of the pictures his mother showed him of his father, how strong he stood and how much respect he commanded. Michael thought to himself and tried to recall his father's voice.

Michael found his first memory of his father, and recalled how forceful his voice was even though he played with Michael. Michael started to laugh and cry at the same time, but caught himself on both. Michael read the name of his father and cringed to the thought of him being a junior. He never let another know about his title and never let anyone know of his father's name.

Michael kneeled down and began to chant the Serenity Prayer. "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to see the difference," Michael whispered into the wind. A hand touched Michael's shoulder. Michael looked to it and remembered the hand that fed him, the hand that held him, and the hand that nursed him. He looked up and saw his mother. She looked the same as she did when she was buried, and Michael smiled for he awaited her to fly to the heavens.

"Mom," he asked to the image who nodded and smile. Michael stood up and overshadowed his mother, but he slowly reached around her body and tried to hug her. He couldn't feel her body and withdrew while she held her hand and passed on the hug. "Mom, what are you doing here??"

"You've got some work to do," she softly whispered. "You've got a lot of things to do."

"What do you mean," he asked her slowly, as though she knew of his recent affairs.

"Boy I was the first person you laid eyes on," she said to her son. "Don't pretend as though I don't know much about you and what you've been doing. He does too." Michael looked to her and shook his head. He looked up and for the first time since he was three, he saw his father face to face. Michael closed his eyes then looked to him again while his father nodded to him.

Either a few tears or a few droplets of rain slid down Michael's cheek before Michael muttered the word, "Dad??"

"You expected God," his father asked Michael in a voice that sent a chill down Michael as though he did something wrong.

"What are you two both doing here," Michael asked to both of them while he wiped away the water from his cheek.

"I heard what you said about me in church," his mother said to him. "You've always had your way with words boy." Michael laughed before his mother's face became serious. "Your mind has a doorway Michael, a huge doorway to the afterlife. Because of your connections with your brother, Azumamaro, Marissa and such, this doorway was stretched, and a being escaped from it."

"The little girl," Michael asked to her.

"There's a better word for her," his father answered. "We prefer to say, your daughter."

"MY WHAT," Michael screamed to the two.

"Your daughter Michael," his father answered once again. "You are a father, and your child is a girl, no more than five years of age."

"How did this happen, when did this happen, who is the mother," Michael quickly asked.

"During your first few months in Japan, a girl back here gave birth to your daughter," his mother answered. "Obviously you know how this happened, and the mother is unknown to both of us. However, there is much more to this story."

"Go on," Michael said.

"While giving birth, the baby suffocated and choked to death on her umblical cord," his father went on. "The trauma, the shock, the afterbirth, all of these sent the mother into a state of insanity. All we know is that the child has grown up and has a murderous lust for you."

"Ok, how can I stop her," Michael asked.

"You can't," his father replied. "Through her powers, she's created protectors, bodyguards who watch over her and keep her safe. You've met the gentlemen in the black suits haven't you??"

"Those guys were ok," Michael said. "But I can take them."

"You can't take a million of them," his mother replied. "As long as she roams free in this world, she can bring as many of them as needed, all equipped and determined with one thing, the total destruction of your existance by any and every mean possible. You need to find a way to take her out before she takes you out."

Michael nodded and looked to the two begin to fade away. "WAIT," Michael screamed. "Stay a little while longer, talk with me for just a bit more."

"We served our purpose Mike, we can do no more here, we must go," his father said. "We are both very proud of you son, no matter what choices you've made to get you here, we are both so very proud of you. You've become a man Michael, a powerful man capable of extraordinary feats. You did this all on your own Michael, you can do so much more, and we'll be waiting to see what you got." The two vanished and were replaced by raindrops. Michael reached out to cold air and his breath.

His life was on the line again, and along the way are those he knows and holds true to himself. Michael looked to the markers of his parents and nodded to them, placed his hands inside of his jacket, and walked away.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Subject:Distant Relatives
Time:6:06 pm.
Mood: accomplished.
Music:I Hate Everything About You...Three Days Grace.
The cold rain hit his nose first, it always did. The droplets then hit his shoulders, hit his chest, and made a home on his feet. The ground he stood on was muddy, many graveyards had that tendency during a storm. Michael didn't care about anything but what stood below him which were two mineral gray markers that read the names of his parents.

He looked to his mother's and thought of how beautiful she looked when the casket closed on her. She never looked so graceful and majestic, as though she could wake from her long sleep and take to the sky. Michael turned and looked to his father's. He thought of the pictures his mother showed him of his father, how strong he stood and how much respect he commanded. Michael thought to himself and tried to recall his father's voice.

Michael found his first memory of his father, and recalled how forceful his voice was even though he played with Michael. Michael started to laugh and cry at the same time, but caught himself on both. Michael read the name of his father and cringed to the thought of him being a junior. He never let another know about his title and never let anyone know of his father's name.

Michael kneeled down and began to chant the Serenity Prayer. "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to see the difference," Michael whispered into the wind. A hand touched Michael's shoulder. Michael looked to it and remembered the hand that fed him, the hand that held him, and the hand that nursed him. He looked up and saw his mother. She looked the same as she did when she was buried, and Michael smiled for he awaited her to fly to the heavens.

"Mom," he asked to the image who nodded and smile. Michael stood up and overshadowed his mother, but he slowly reached around her body and tried to hug her. He couldn't feel her body and withdrew while she held her hand and passed on the hug. "Mom, what are you doing here??"

"You've got some work to do," she softly whispered. "You've got a lot of things to do."

"What do you mean," he asked her slowly, as though she knew of his recent affairs.

"Boy I was the first person you laid eyes on," she said to her son. "Don't pretend as though I don't know much about you and what you've been doing. He does too." Michael looked to her and shook his head. He looked up and for the first time since he was three, he saw his father face to face. Michael closed his eyes then looked to him again while his father nodded to him.

Either a few tears or a few droplets of rain slid down Michael's cheek before Michael muttered the word, "Dad??"

"You expected God," his father asked Michael in a voice that sent a chill down Michael as though he did something wrong.

"What are you two both doing here," Michael asked to both of them while he wiped away the water from his cheek.

"I heard what you said about me in church," his mother said to him. "You've always had your way with words boy." Michael laughed before his mother's face became serious. "Your mind has a doorway Michael, a huge doorway to the afterlife. Because of your connections with your brother, Azumamaro, Marissa and such, this doorway was stretched, and a being escaped from it."

"The little girl," Michael asked to her.

"There's a better word for her," his father answered. "We prefer to say, your daughter."

"MY WHAT," Michael screamed to the two.

"Your daughter Michael," his father answered once again. "You are a father, and your child is a girl, no more than five years of age."

"How did this happen, when did this happen, who is the mother," Michael quickly asked.

"During your first few months in Japan, a girl back here gave birth to your daughter," his mother answered. "Obviously you know how this happened, and the mother is unknown to both of us. However, there is much more to this story."

"Go on," Michael said.

"While giving birth, the baby suffocated and choked to death on her umblical cord," his father went on. "The trauma, the shock, the afterbirth, all of these sent the mother into a state of insanity. All we know is that the child has grown up and has a murderous lust for you."

"Ok, how can I stop her," Michael asked.

"You can't," his father replied. "Through her powers, she's created protectors, bodyguards who watch over her and keep her safe. You've met the gentlemen in the black suits haven't you??"

"Those guys were ok," Michael said. "But I can take them."

"You can't take a million of them," his mother replied. "As long as she roams free in this world, she can bring as many of them as needed, all equipped and determined with one thing, the total destruction of your existance by any and every mean possible. You need to find a way to take her out before she takes you out."

Michael nodded and looked to the two begin to fade away. "WAIT," Michael screamed. "Stay a little while longer, talk with me for just a bit more."

"We served our purpose Mike, we can do no more here, we must go," his father said. "We are both very proud of you son, no matter what choices you've made to get you here, we are both so very proud of you. You've become a man Michael, a powerful man capable of extraordinary feats. You did this all on your own Michael, you can do so much more, and we'll be waiting to see what you got." The two vanished and were replaced by raindrops. Michael reached out to cold air and his breath.

His life was on the line again, and along the way are those he knows and holds true to himself. Michael looked to the markers of his parents and nodded to them, placed his hands inside of his jacket, and walked away.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Wednesday, November 19th, 2003

Subject:Tempers are Flaring
Time:10:48 am.
Mood: creative.
Music:I Love You...Dru Hill.
"An hour after the phone call"

She paced back and forth while she stared at the phone. Her nails were already to the quick, but she insisted upon biting them some more. Each cuticle biten was followed by a sweat drop going down her nose. She walked back and forth, then turned to a picture of Michael. She looked into the papered creation of his brown eyes, and rubbed down the glass frame along his cheek. She grabbed the receiver again and dialed his home number again.

"Hello," Mrs. Lewis answered.

"I really really need to talk to Michael right now," she replied as fast as she could before she was met by the click. She growled and slammed the receiver back to the phone set and screamed. She began to attack every piece of furniture within her range. She scratched, tore into, kicked, stomped, and threw the biggest hissy fit humanly possible. She grabbed her chair and threw it at a window, she grabbed the phone and ripped it from the socket, she lost every bit of peace within her. Her rage turned her to the picture of Michael. She stopped once again and looked at the picture, looked at his non-chalant pose with his charismatic smile. She calmed down and took the picture into her hands. She brought it close to her heart and held it tightly. A tear escaped her brown eyes while she softly whispered, "I need you so much right now."
Comments: Read 3 or Add Your Own.

Sunday, November 16th, 2003

Subject:The Celebration of Life... (Another Dojo Post)
Time:1:24 pm.
Mood: creative.
Music:Runnin...Tupac Shakur w/The Notorious B.I.G..
"One by one, they passed the coffin, each in garments of the darkest black possible. The elderly women wept deeply and placed their withered hands on Mrs. Lewis' cold body. She had a smile on her face though, no kind of technique by a mortician could have altered her expression. Mrs. Lewis was happy in her passing, she was happy to be free and move on. The eulogy was to begin, but was halted by a tall figure's presence in the entranceway. The tall figure, dressed in a black overcoat and a suit, walked down the aisle with his head up. No du-rag or form of casual wear touched Michael while he headed towards his mother's coffin. People close to the aisle looked up at Michael, and whispers jumped from the mouths of the mourning in question, "Is that Mikey, did he come back for this, how did he know his mother was gone, where has he been for all this time??"

Michael looked around and recognized every feature of the church his mother grew up at. He knew that she would have no funeral but besides here. He made his final stroll to the coffin and looked down at his mother. He smiled when he saw her smile and he touched her hand softly. Somehow it was still warm to him while he learned down and kissed her forehead. He brushed back her hair a bit and nodded in acknowledgment. He looked around for a place to sit, only to find a small group of elderly women place themselves close enough for Michael to sit in the front.

The preacher, one Michael knew of and grew up with, delivered a powerful sermon on the accomplishments of Michael's mother. The preacher asked if anyone had any final words, with every set of eyes in unison turn to Michael. Michael stodd up and took to the altar. He took the microphone from the preacher's hands and brought it to his lips.

"I could be really emotional right now," Michael began. "I could be in tears like the most of you. I can honestly sit here, break down, cry my heart out, sob for weeks on in, and for what, to express the pain of my mother's passing. Yeah, I am little Mikey, the very same, only I'm older and smarter. Death isn't the loss of life, but the acceptance of it. If anyone hadn't noticed, Mom is smiling right now, as beautiful as she's ever been. Why, because she knows this is the final step, and no matter what, this is the end result of living." A tear escaped Michael's eye when he continued after a small pause. "I spent the best years of my life with her. She was both mother and father to me, and even when she didn't want to be she took the entire responsibility and excelled in it. Mom is my only connection to the innocent happiness I felt as a child. My brother is gone, my grandfather is gone, my first love is gone, and now Mom is too. Mom brought me to who I am right now and I can't thank her enough for it. Some of you may be skeptical as why I left, why I should have stayed, what could have been if I was by Mom's side when this happened to her. I never left Mom's side for a second, not once, she's always been in my thoughts as I surely know I've been in hers. What could have happened is an infinite amount of answers I can't even begin to explain. What did happen is the most beautiful thing in the world, and for those who cry, clap, clap that she was given life so long, clap that she has touched you all so much you're in tears for her, clap for the celebration of my mother's life, clap because we love her and will miss her."

The entire congregation stood to their feet and clapped in unison for Mrs. Lewis while Michael began to weep on the altar. He was led down by the preacher and led out of the congregation while they still applauded for her. Michael's words touched them all, and those with tears now were with smiles. A clap of thunder was heard outside while it began to rain. A story is that when it rains, someone is accepted into heaven. Michael left the church and stood in the rain. He looked up at the sky while droplets of rain landed on his eyes. The rain drops mixed with his tears while Michael allowed the only words he could ever use to describe his mother escape his lips.

"I love you."
Comments: Add Your Own.

Thursday, November 13th, 2003

Time:10:40 am.
Anything you want to tell me Chelsea, tell me, I'm always open ears for anything and everything.
Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.

Friday, November 7th, 2003

Subject:A Son's Love
Time:10:37 am.
Mood: contemplative.
Music:Miss you...Angie Smith.
"Michael was without words since he found out, since his entire world went south from something he'd never thought possible. He thought about his mother just as he'd done so when he left America. The possibility of her death roamed free inside of his complex mind, however he never held it to be true, until the call earlier that morning. His hands rested on his eyes while he thought back to how well his mother treated him.

He remembered how hard she was on him, how tough she tried to make him. She never gave Michael any slack, never gave him a moment to let up. Michael was under strict but fair observation as a child, and pushed himself incredibly hard to satisfy his mother. It was only after his high school graduation did he realize that all of the pushing he did not only satisfied his mother, but himself as well. He thought of the people who never made it that far, who gave up when he was at his strongest. His mother built power within Michael, enfused it with determination and wisdom. The one thing she tried to hide from Michael but never got the chance to was her love.

Michael remembered her tears when his name was mentioned that day, or his first day of school for that matter when she stood outside of the gate and looked in. He remembered those same tears when he left for Japan, those loving tears that wanted to wrap Michael up tightly and never let him go. Those tears shed were always Michael's inspiration and acceptance that his mother loved him.

Michael never received a letter from his mother during his stay in Japan, and always wondered if she forgot about him. Even when Azumamaro posed as his mother and got into Michael's head like that, he kept his composure and fought through the trickery. It was at this point in Michael's thought did he realize, "How did I get a phone call about her death when no one knows I'm here??"
Comments: Add Your Own.

Thursday, November 6th, 2003

Subject:Last night's mood..."A Mother's Love"
Time:10:53 am.
I really don't know how to feel about now, upset...na, depressed....na, confused...definitely. Last night was perhaps the most confusing night I've ever lived, more confusing than being stuck in Manhattan for no reason. I've been searching and thinking all night, only to come up with the question, "What the hell???" Am I wrong as a person, wrong in my doings, wrong in general?? I have no idea what's going down as of late, on any end. Only time will tell I guess. I'm going to leave a post, hopefully finish it before the 11 o'clock ding. Here I go.

"Her new apartment had been organized so no speck of dust, no drop of dirt, no piece of trash could be seen by human eye. Mrs. Lewis had always kept her place tidy. Across the room were pictures in brass frames, many of them, some of Michael's father, her husband who passed away during her pregnancy with Michael. Some were of friends in her old neighborhood who she held dear to herself over the many years, and most were of Michael in his youth. The transition from child to man amazed her to this day as though it happened overnight, but through her years of cultivating and educating, she can see her work paid off. She smiled when she looked at a picture of Michael as a child, along with Seiichi and the rest of the neighborhood. She looked and saw a Halloween picture where both Michael and Seiichi chose to be devils, and laughed at the experience where Michael used his pitchfork to poke everyone around him. She turned around and saw his diploma, next to it a picture of herself and Michael, both with the largest smiles. She walked closer to that picture and examined it thoroughly to every wrinkle on their clothing. A tear slid down her face while she thought of him."

At work, I continue, ha ha!!!

"At the moment, she couldn't remember the harsh moments the two endured, Michael's day of crying in lack of his father, the constant calls from girls who wanted Michael while he was away, the fact she lost two people so very close to her. In Michael's eyes she saw his father, and while Michael grew within her, his father loved her so very much. The two never met, which always has upsetted her for she knew how well they would get along. She missed both of them, she missed them well. She sat in her black leather chair and opened a book, both to pass the time and to enjoy her peace. A footstep caused her to drop her book and see a small girl. The girl was very young, at least the age of four. Her chocolate brown hair laid against her back while her chocolate brown eyes stared back in Mrs. Lewis's. The small girl wore a white shirt with a red skirt and long white stockings covered with shiny black shoes.

"Who are you chile," Mrs. Lewis asked the little girl, only to be answered by an adorable smile. Mrs. Lewis sat up and stared at the young girl, who only looked back with a smile. "How did you get in here little one," Mrs. Lewis continued. "And why are you here??"

The little girl's smile dropped while she raised her finger and pointed. "He loves you so very much," she said to her. "You're his mommy and he'll always love you more."

"Girl I don't know what foolishness is running through your head, but go on now," Mrs. Lewis said quickly. She wasn't quick to lose her temper, however she wasn't hesitant.

"He misses you," the little girl said. "He misses you a lot. He thought you came to him, he thought you were still alive, but another mean person made it so he thinks you went bye-bye."

"Mi...mi...Michael," Mrs. Lewis asked while the little girl nodded. "My baby is still alive, and he's here, back in America?? What else do you know chile??"

"Oh yes, he's alive and back over here now," the little girl continued while she lowered her head. "And I know that you have to go bye bye now."

"Bye bye," Mrs Lewis asked. "Now you want to kill me."

"Oh yes yes yes," the little girl replied. "You have to feel the same pain you gave to Mommy."

"Mommy, who's your Mommy," Mrs. Lewis asked, but before she got a response, the little girl's head raised, and her eyes were a deep shade of red.

"Someone who can't come back," the little girl said while she raised her hand. Inside of the palm grew a small ball of fire. Mrs. Lewis was intrigued until the little girl screamed, "JUU......NI!!!" The twelve blades of flames escaped from the little girl's hand. Mrs. Lewis, unsuspecting yet willing, allowed the blades to pierce through her body. The momentum sent her body back against the chair hard, and the blades burned through both her back and the chair. Mrs. Lewis's eyes cringed with pain while the little girl's smile appeared. Mrs. Lewis, to the girl's surprise, smiled as well.

"If I can't have one, I'll have the other," Mrs. Lewis said while the blades exploded inside of her and softly sucked away her life force. Mrs. Lewis's body slumped further into the chair until she couldn't go no more, and with her last breath she exhaled with a sense of peace. The little girl's eyes returned to their chocolate brown state.

"I made you free now, you're very very lucky," the little girl said. "Now to help Mommy get free."
Comments: Read 7 or Add Your Own.

Tuesday, November 4th, 2003

Subject:Glimpse into the Unknown Past
Time:10:31 am.
Mood: accomplished.
Music:I Stand Alone...Godsmack.
Yet another Dojo post, decided this will be known as the new Dojo lol. I hope you enjoy:

*Four Years Ago, After Michael left for Japan*

A phone began to ring inside of a Philadelphian row home. A woman nearing her fourtieth birthday picked up the phone and asked, "Lewis Residence???"

"Hi Mrs. Lewis, is Michael there," a voice on the other end asked very quickly. Her voice sounded as though she was in urgent need and would refuse the word "no".

"I'm sorry baby, but Michael isn't here," Mrs. Lewis said sharply.

"Is there any kind of way to reah him," the feminine voice asked just as quickly as before.

"Chillllle," Mrs. Lewis replied. "Michael's in Japan right now with his brother and his grandfather. He ain't gonna be back in a lonnnnnng while."

"Are you sure, I really need to talk to him," the voice asked yet again in a desperate voice."

"I just told you Michael isn't available right now," Mrs. Lewis repeated with a stronger, irritable tone. She began to grow impatient with the young lady, however tolerated her enough to tell her off politely.

"Please, you've got to find Michael and fast," the voice pleaded with Mrs. Lewis. "I need him right now."

"Don't you heifers all," Mrs. Lewis replied at the break of patience. "Look you, you and whoever club of heifers have joined together have to realize one thing, Michael does not want anything to do with you, nor with your pleas and such. Whatever reason you two parted ways is between you two and I refuse to be a part of it. Now please hang up the phone."

"But I really really really need to talk with him right now," the young lady returned without comprehending Mrs Lewis's lengthy response. "Michael has to be with me right now."

"Michael has to get his life straight, and I know he will with his family in Japan," Mrs. Lewis added. "When he gets back, I'll be sure to have him call you...Miss??" The phone clicked off and Mrs Lewis looked to the receiver in shock. "Well I never, I beg the girl to get off the phone, and she does so. Generation might be learnin' something now."

The young lady sat with her hand still on her receiver with tears in her eyes. She continued to cry while her other hand rubbed her stomach slowly. "Mikey, you have no idea what you've done to me."
Comments: Add Your Own.

Saturday, November 1st, 2003

Subject:And They Thought the Internet Had Connections...
Time:10:58 pm.
Mood: creative.
Music:The Real Folk Blues...Mai Yagame.
He comes off of All Hallow's Eve shocked and disturbed. The sights this demon saw last night would surprise anyone. I didn't tell Chelsea much, simply because it was all too much to handle, but we'll leave it as...transvestites, drunkards, weed, crazy eyes, vomit and fishnet stockings. That's sums up the entire night.

Lately I've been out of it, and today I noticed Grandmother was insanely depressed which explains it. For as long as I can remember, I was able to mimick or take on another person's emotions. In company with people, I am mentally and physically able to be a compatible match, as though I can go anywhere and start a party up without doing a thing. It's not some weak little John Edwards connection, but rather, it's a strong one to everyone I'm dear with. Right now I'm depressed for no reason, no reason at all. My heart is with the most beautiful girl my 19 year old eyes I've ever seen, my job hasn't been so bad, school is rolling as of Monday, and my friends are strong and good. Apartment talks have been in the air, and because I've been saving money very well as of late, those dreams will be coming true. You know what that means Chelsea?? You're going to drive an hour and a half to chill with me lol.

But at the moment, all of this doesn't matter, like I've lost my will for life. I know this because I've been seeking and desiring death as of late, like I really want to die, but I don't know why. Then my Grandmother woke me up (unintentionally) today, screaming because my Grandfather was hiding money from her, which is a horrible thing to do to a non-working, struggling woman. I mean, what the hell could he be hiding money for, in a marriage to me, the money is always divided 50/50, no matter what. If Chelsea needed a cent, she's getting the dollar from me, that's how I look at it. Obviously he doesn't, so Grandmother speaks on how depressed she is throughout the week, feeling like a prisoner and wanting to know why she wakes up when she does nothing. That's how I feel, and it's directly from her. Oh well, I have to ride it out.

And now, post of the night from the Dojo. Unfortunately they are still doing nothing, so I have nowhere to post but here. I hope you enjoy:

"Michael shivered in the autumn wind and watched the pale orange sky dwindle into night. He walked quicker along the sidewalk and broke through several oncomers that hoped to beat rush hour. For the first time in his possession of it, Michael buttoned his long overcoat completely and after a sigh of relief, climbed the steps to a small duplex. He knocked twice and Vincent slowly opened the door and invited Michael in. Michael shook like a wet dog while he disguarded his coat and greeted Vincent.

"So how are you Hop-A-Long," Michael asked in reference to Vincent's cane, a black pole of strong steel with a golden fist where the handle should be as well as a golden tip at the bottom. Since his release from the hospital, Vincent had been unable to walk without support on his right side.

"You know what they say about people who mock the handicap," Vincent responded while he slowly sat down. Michael stood up and leaned as in to help Vincent, but the stubborn man with the cane refused it and made his way into his chair again. "I don't know which is worst Mike, to die or to be left in this situation for life."

"Both ways you got a hot sponge bath out of it," Michael responded to Vincen't remark and both of them laughed. "If that isn't enough of a perk, I don't know what is."

Vincent continued to laugh while Michael slowly stopped and looked down, and only then did Vincent ask, "What's wrong Mike."

"You know how I can do some pretty crazy stuff right," Michael asked while Vincent nodded in response. "Well, what happens when the pretty crazy stuff gets out of hand."

"As in how," Vincent asked.

"As in it going out of my control and acting on its own," Michael came back quickly with his head still lowered.

"Talking about those powers of yours huh," Vincent asked.

"Yeah," Michael said while he raised his head and hands at the same time. "I can remember the first night I discovered the energy, I remember Seiichi had died, and nothing but red filled my eyes. I broke that table with my fists and they were on fire. I didn't even think anything of them, take some time out to appreciate the gift bestowed upon me. I just went out and used them. At the time, the thought of my brother sparked them, and after a while, I mastered them to a point all I had to do was say 'Fire Straight Punch' in Japanese and it worked. I had full control of the powers, even to a point where I could ignite a sword on fire and use it as a weapon. The power enhances my strength trifold when I use it. But lately, that power isn't responding."

"Wait, how did you acquire your power," Vincent asked.

"My Grandfather had a hand in giving me the energy," Michael began. "I summoned it through my rage...and I used it for robberies, fights, all kinds of things."

"But never for good though," Vincent said. "From what you're telling me, the energy you got you acquired through dark means."

"But I fought in search for answers of my brother," Michael said. "Everything I did was in his name."

"So what, doesn't make it any better," Vincent raised his voice and said. "You were a thief and misguided, more than likely did you fight with darkness in your heart. Right now you're getting your life together, because of which your powers aren't responding to your new patterns and lifestyle."

"What about the little girl," Michael asked.

"Little girl," Vincent asked himself.

"A little girl called me later on and asked if I like this game, referring to my powers," Michael said. "She knew what went down, and was very cute about it. After she was done, the phone bursted into flames, when I turned away, all was calm and good." Vincent's jaw had dropped to what Michael was saying. Michael continued, "I've seen this girl in person, noticed all of her features. She's an adorable little thing too, sweet as candy, too bad i have to kill her." Suddenly Michael's hands ignited with strong, passion-red flames. The flames were powerful, too powerful for Michael himself to control. They stretched as though to singe Vincent's ceiling and heated the cool room around the two. Michael extended them to resist the massive power while Vincent shielded himself in a small huddle.

"MIKE, CALM THAT STUFF DOWN," Vincent screamed.

I CAN'T, I DON'T KNOW HOW TO," Michael responded while the room grew hotter and hotter. Michael's hands calmed down, and completely burned out. The room's temperature cooled and Vincent's slowly broke away from his little huddle. The phone rang and Vincent turned to his right and picked it up. Vincent's eyes squinted after he heard the question, and handed the phone in Michael's direction. Michael raised his eyebrows and walked towards the phone. He took the receiver and asked, "Hello??"

"That meanie-head knows everything about you," the same small voice as before responded. "But does he know he's next on your list?? Does he know the same powers he saw will be the same powers to kill him. This game is getting better and better and better, soon that meanie-head will get what he deserves. I love you." The phone clicked and Michael looked around. He was back in his apartment and his own phone's dial tone echoed in his ears. He hung up the phone and looked around. Outside showed the dead of night, the inside the same.

With a large gulp, Michael said to himself, "Ok, I'm absolutely freaked out now."

Until next time, I love you Chelsea
Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.

Friday, October 31st, 2003

Subject:Dinner (for the Bogard Dojo RP)
Time:12:02 am.
Mood: calm.
Music:Ja Rule...Clap Back.
Well, the Dojo is inactive at the moment, so I'm going to post my stuff here. This is a character I created called Michael Lewis. On my other screen name is the profile completely created for him if you'd like to see, but for now, here I go.

"Some time has passed since the death of his brother, death of his first real love, death of his grandfather. The evil that plagued the three has left, the new beginning had started. His life was pure, wholesome in a way, although it consisted of lechery, adultery, temptation and seduction. Nonetheless his heart grew pure and mind grew clear, and abandoned had he the lifestyle of darkness. Michael's powers grew as well as his intellect, and it seemed the worst had passed him by. Boy was he wrong...

An autumn evening, filled with a wind that sent shivers down people's back. The ground was covered in leaves from tress that didn't exist around the neighborhood. The sky was dark although it was mid-evening, and the mood and sound of the outside was silent. No children ran the streets, broke the hydrants and enjoyed the swim of the ghetto, no, the children had much schoolwork to do, and the adults were in the midst of becoming warm from a long, cold walk to their homes.

A strange love for this season always filled Michael's heart around this time. Something about silence and serenity appease Michael, especially in a city where everything must happen. Michael spent his evening indoors with a cup of noodles filled to the brim with warm water waiting for him. Michael was about early in the morning in search for a new job, one that didn't require his arm being a rest for G-strings and his workout including drunkards who didn't know their roles. Jaime, after many obsessive attacks towards Michael, became a thing of the past, finding work at another less-paying club. Vincent was replaced by a smaller individual who thought because he wore all black he was the peak of power. The little guy has never gained such a lack of respect until he was employed by the club.

Michael looked to his cup and waited for the three minutes to end. He paced back and forth with his attention to his noodles. He shrugged, thought for a second, grabbed the cup and channeled his ki towards his hand. A small spark of a flame shot to the cup and Michael smiled. Michael began to feel a rush and watched while the styrofoam cup exploded in his hands and the noodles flew about his apartment. In shock, Michael stepped back while the soft, hot strings landed on the floor. Michael looked to his hand and a flame erupted towards his face. He weaved to his left and the flame attacked his cabinet. He turned his hand away and flames continued to spurt wildly. Michael tried to concentrate his energy and succeeded while the flames calmed and vanished.

Michael's phone rang. He ignored the pile of noodles and ran towards it. He picked it up, and in a confused, shock voice he managed to ask, "Hello???"

"That was fun wasn't it," a small girl's voice responded. It was sweet and innocent, very well articulate for a child. The voice continued, "Next time we'll have more fun together. Until then." The phone clicked and Michael looked to the receiver. A blaze of fire shot towards him and he dropped the phone and his body on the ground. He looked to the phone and saw the receiver was already hung up, and that the entire phone was in flames. Michael shook his head once and the fire was gone. He looked around and noticed his cup of noodles were intact on the table. Nothing had changed, nothing was out of place, everything was as it was. Michael stood up, walked towards the noodles, lifted and lid and said, "Damn, still not done." He closed the lid, pulled up a chair, and waited a little longer...
Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.

Wednesday, October 29th, 2003

Subject:WONDER MUSE POWER....ACTIVATE!!!!!
Time:12:11 am.
Mood: contemplative.
Music:Headstrong...Trapt.
(an excerpt from "I'll Think I'll Call Out Dead to Work)

"The most beautiful sight to behold in my world is the rainstorm, especially during work. No thunder, no lightning, just a sky of the lightest possible shade of blue, and drops of water falling practically from nowhere. I walk in this storm not for those inside, rather for myself. I've always described the element of fire to be of passion, lust, desire, and most of all, rage. If so, then the natural opposite element of water is of peace, tranquility, and most of all, serenity. Serenity is what I feel when those droplets hit the ground, when the rain is so strong along with the wind small line patterns sidewine about on the pavement. Serenity is what I feel when I watch one small drop slide across my hat before falling to the ground. Serenity is the drop of water that glides down my neck, so similar to a touch, and continues down my back or my chest. The drop, the touch is so unpredictable, so featherweight that I yearn for so much more when it's such a small sensation. My arms are spread while I walk through the storm to capture every bit of it and somewhat become one with it. A win strong enough to blow back my arms blows, however, that same wind never affects my face. It can blow my body back a few steps at times, but I will always stare it down to the final breath. The wind is perfect, neither hot nor cold, neither sharp nor thin, just a breeze I can close my eyes to. The rain has picked up, and every sound man-made is drowned out by the billions of droplets hitting the ground all at once. No train noises, no PA bitching, no random customer cursing out a co-worker because of an outrage charge that both sides know not to be true. No, just the rain in all of its glory, just the most peaceful moment of my life. I can see why so many romantic things can be done during a storm like this. There is a relaxing tone during a storm, a relaxing beat of sounds that would bring both partners to a medium where everything can be done without fear no embarassment. The storm is slowly stopping, and my mind is returning back to the 8-hour shift that restrains me from enjoying this some more. The final drop hit my shoulder and I realize my entire body is soaked from head to toe. My coat weighs at least 10 more pounds than it should and my hat doesn't have a white logo anymore. I walk inside and shake like a dog that lost a battle to a garden hose, unfasten and remove my coat, and slowly my sneakers squeak on the dry floor to my next assignment. Serenity is lost for now, but it will be back soon enough."

I fixed up my Twisted Heat profile, and it looks pretty good. Last night troubled the hell out of me though. For simple respect and love for the person, I'll keep everything informative to a minimal. But I will say that I am insanely scared and worried. Last night's dream proves it. I was on a plane of some sort, better yet a building. It was some time in the future in New York, lots of hi-tech machinery flying around. She was there, better yet, Chelsea was there. Well, we were together, then a loud sound comes in. Chelsea tells me flat out to run towards the stadium, or mall or whatever. The building is about to explode, and everyone is leaving, and I'm trying to find Chelsea to save her and all, but I can't find her. Like, someone makes me grab a jetpack (my dream), and I reluctantly fly towards the stadium, as Chelsea told me to. I land and turn back to the building and start running towards it. Well, the building blows up before I get there, and the most fucked up thing is I think she's in it. I start crying like crazy, I woke up crying but that's later, but in the dream she comes back to me dressed in all white, hair all the way down her back. We hold each other and the dream ends. I woke up in tears though, and right now I'm thinking about the dream. Like I have no clue what it means or what it meant if anything, but the dream was very real. Maybe I'm fucked up, but anyway, no Chelsea's online... *looks down while a tear falls down my cheek*, hopefully I can catch her tomorrow. In the meanwhile, Smackdown is the greatest game, so I'm off to play it, crush it, and await Castlevania. Until next time...
Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.

Thursday, October 23rd, 2003

Subject:The Crossroad of Life...the New Beginning...
Time:10:35 pm.
Mood: indescribable.
Music:Out My Mind...t.A.t.U..
Yeah, for my first entry, I shall randomly speak things and find an outlet to make sense. Tonight I was reminded of how far love can test you and the breaks it can give you. Chelsea and I spoke tonight, and she told me of another in her life and in her heart. Though her heart lies with me, the other has a closer tie to her than I do. The other doesn't have the distance between her, no the age difference, no the lack of parental approval. I don't know the whole story, just those bits and pieces that hit me so hard I couldn't see at one point. My computer kept shutting down which got to me even more, and all the while I'm catching my breath holding back every tear and urge to scream in rage. Good thing I have you.

It's not right for me to be upset about this, after all, there is no title between Chelsea and myself. There is only a love that's holding strong after two week and counting, as well as 115 miles of travel. It's just, I found someone who is every part of my dreams and desires, someone who fits me better than anyone else. I'm a complexity in the first place, but to find another complexity in the same format is beyond odds. It's impossible, but it's been done. She's beautiful, she's fun to play with, she's great to hold, she has these locking eyes that make you feel so comfortable and alright. Her intelligence is a new to me, especially meeting people who dare not venture into the scientific field. I mean, there is nothing about her that I don't love. I think that's why when she told me everything my heart started racing, just to know that it's possible to lose her drove me insane.

I called this entry the Crossroad of Life because this is where the cards are on the table, this is where the game gets interesting and where the climax to this entire story unfolds. This is the point where everything is on the line. The odds of her choosing me are not that good anyway it's sliced, the chances of me being the one to spend great amounts of time with her don't look that good. Something inside of me is keeping me from being afraid though, which is strange, I mean the possibility of losing someone this close looms throughout my head, but I'm not scared of the results. I'm not afraid of anything for some reason, I don't know why.

December 4th is the target date for the Next Episode between Chelsea and myself. December 4th will decide where my future heads, and the New Beginning shall start then and there. God I sound like a cartoon announcer, very sweet. But seriously, I love Chelsea, and I can only hope good things come from her and I. As I say elsewhere, until next time...
Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.

Blurty for Fumimaro Kakinomoto.

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