The evening was remarkably quiet, comparing it to what I had expected. But around here people rarely act like the beasts they should be. They are soft, sometimes even by human standards. And then the next moment they lash out without measure. It’s hard to predict the chaos in their mind. Read More »

And still all of this gets to me more than it should. My mind is starting to clear up. But I know that the one thing I need to go away won’t just disappear – and I know that in my heart I do not want that to happen either. Read More »

To write sober letters is one thing. It is quite another to actually act more responsible, for lack of a better term. To feel it appears next to impossible. I find it hard to keep my own tongue in check. Harder still not to say what I really think. I wonder how long I can do this. Or whether it will become habbit at all at some stage. It has to. Yet it feels like constalty pulling the reigns on myself, knowing that some night they will slip through my fingers just like that. Read More »

The hardest part, as he had found out, was not about not touching him. Nor was it sober thinking and talking. The latter had come more easily than expected. Read More »

Monday night. All Sunday had gone by without a decision. And all Monday went by without thinking about said decision. At least that was the plan. Read More »

Thursday night she had snapped. Again. Friday Jason had been over and he still couldn’t get himself to even let Greg clean up the mess. By now, Sunday, the mess was still there, the perfect reflection of his own emotional chaos. Read More »

Lovely. You’ve got to appreciate politics for what they are. Give them a distraction and people will be all over it. Out of a sudden people are very interested in what happens to Hope. Or where the Sabbat might attack another two cities. Which comes in handy, because they’re much less likely to pay much attention to little old me while I try to turn the situation around, back into our favor. Very lovely indeed. Read More »

Somehow I thought I would get staked or something. None of the like happened. Yet there are so many implications to this that my head is spinning. And I’m not sure just who the old man hurt more. Read More »