My grandfather has cancer again. It is in his lungs, and spreading. This time he said he is just going to let it all happen and not go through kemo. My grandparents on my father's side are the only relatives I care for outside of my immediate family. And now one of the only people I love is dying. My grandfather. There is this one song, that reminds me of him whenever I hear it. It reminds me of when we were about to move, and it was the last time I saw him. He was telling me about how when he was five, his father died, and how when he was old enough he had to get a job to help his mom. My grandfather is 75 years old now. He has been in and out of the hospital these last few years. Once he almost died of a diabetic coma. That is what happens if you have the gene and you don't ever become a vampire. you get diabetes. My grandfather could have been a vampire, but at the age where you usually get turned, he wasn't. I get the vampire gene from my father, and his father. There is only one in every generation. My grandfather was a contractor after the war. He has seven children, and a wife, my grandmother. When I was little, about four, I asked him how he lost the tips of his first three fingers on his right hand. He told me that they got bitten off by an alligator he saved my grandma from. It wasn't until I was about 16 years old that I found out that they were cut off by a saw on accident. But my grandfather seems the type to have wrestled with alligators, and that's why I believed him, even until that age. He has tatoos, and he has always been strong. It is only in old age that any sickness has ever grasped him, and now, after one fight with cancer already, he has decided it is time he stopped fighting. So, at last he submits to the alligator in his story which has now taken the form of cancer, and he will die. I have to accept that. I don't care what they say, I will always think of my grandfather the way I have since I was four... strong enough to save my grandma from an alligator.

I'm back to where I started three years ago. Alone in the night, stretched out beneath the stars, full of longing, sadness, and desperation. My old wounds bleed afresh. Once again I am plunged into uncertainty. Once again I look to the sky and naturefor solace. And once again I am dissappointed. The stars say, "Find your own redemption" only they don't realize, this time was not like the last time. This time I thought I was better, healed. But I still haven't recovered. I lament him like he died. But he has, in a way.. And when I thought I could finally move on, leave it all, I wind up stretched on my lawn, staring up at the sky, fighting back tears.And I hate every bit of this. I know he doesn't care about me, so why is he still affecting me? Why can't I just let it all go? Maybe Heather was right, maybe I do have humanity, no matter how twisted I am. If I lost all my humanity, I would have been able to let it all go like I used to. He gave me humanity, and he's taking it away. I am grateful for this, since it is bothersome, but worried I will be cruel again in its absence. Soon he will kill it, and I will be cold again. All of my old habits returning is just one of the many signs. So I shall prepare for the death of the last of my humanity,and begin to distance myself from all whom I love, so that they don't get hurt when it leaves me once more.

This is dedicated to my worst mistake…Heather the abused fangbanger.
All right, today around one A.M. I am sitting in the living room, watching T.V. with my sister and her dude, and he makes a good point. He says, “Emo is grunge with Down Syndrome” All brought around with the appearance of one of the most Emo of all bands…Simple plan and their “cutters anonymous” video called “untitled”. I really hate the Emo scene. Its mostly comprised of rich kids who think their life is so horrible because their daddy bought them that new Mercedes for their birthday instead of the Hummer, so they scream “I’m gonna call DSS on you!” and slam their door and listen to their Emo music and leak Emo tears all over their $100 pair of Emo professionally ripped and torn pants. It just sickens the hell out of me that they think their little spoiled poser Emo lives are so horrible and they cry about it, starve themselves, and cut up their arms, then show the wounds to their friends for pity and attention. They don’t seem to realize that there are kids who really deserve to be able to cry about their lives, who have to keep a brave face because showing weakness only angers the abusive ones further, and it is already bad enough that they have no food in the house because mommy needed to buy her drugs and daddy took the only stuff possible to pawn and left. THOSE kids don’t cut. Those kids don’t cry. Those kids don’t have to hear simple plan and all that other bullshit that was created to replace boy-bands. Those kids just deal with it. Emo kids are a mockery to anyone who’s ever gone hungry because their parents couldn’t afford the groceries, or to anyone who ever had to walk home in three feet of snow in –10 degrees weather because their dad forgot to pick them up after school, then they got yelled at for leaving before dad got a pulse and realized what went down. Those stupid fucking Emo kids deserve to be slapped around and shown what it is like to really suffer for once. Then they may realize how good they have it. The world is cruel. Everyone thinks it is out to get him or her. And everyone is right. But only some have a real reason to flip God the bird.

Fangbanger-( f²ng-b²ng“…r)n. 1. A vampire groupie. 2. A human with obsessive interest in vampires. Origins, Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris. [FANG , from Old English fang , feng , plunder, booty, from Germanic *fangam , *fangiz ; VANG , from Dutch vangen , to catch, from remade Germanic verb *fangan ; NEWFANGLED , from Middle English *-fangel , taken, akin to Old High German -fangolon , to close, from Germanic *fangl ½n, to grasp. (i), (ii) , and (iii) all derivatives of Germanic *fanhan, to seize; banger Probably from Old Norse bang a hammering]

Today, these lyrics to the Opeth song, “Harvest” were stuck in my head…

“Halo of death, all I see is departure Mourner’s lament but it’s me who’s the martyr”

It just was playing over and over and over in my mind all day long.
Lately, I’ve been losing control over my anger more and more often. The other day, I was mad because of how someone was acting, and I threw my books across the classroom. Then today, someone told me something I didn’t want to know, and I slammed my fist into a locker, then I choked a kid. I was already a bit tweaked before that because of the same reasons I threw my things. Eventually, I am going to lash out even worse. I think I am getting so easily angered because of the situation at hand, based around the person whose actions are annoying me into lashing out, especially at that person. When I am toyed with, I become more truly what I am, since I attack the throat most often, and eventually if it doesn’t abate, I will probably start biting people.
---- Doesn’t usually bother me much with his hugs, but all of a sudden where he’s kissing me all the time I am getting a bit uncomfortable in it all. It annoys me slightly that he kisses the top of the head, but that’s not what made me uncomfortable. Today, around lunchtime he hugged me and then kissed me all over, then tried to kiss my mouth, but I moved my face and he only got my cheek. Then he went on kissing me and then bit the back of my neck. The only people I am okay with that stuff from is other supes. My prejudice against humans makes me feel uncomfortable when they show me affection. I am uncomfortable in big human crowds as well, because of the whole, “Grab your torch and pitchfork!” thing. I developed an irrational fear, and an irrational prejudice because of the humans when I first moved to Kentucky.

I hate it when people will act one way, and then just turn around and start being an effing poser. I hate people in general for their unwavering desire to conform. It repels me. One day I'll lose it and harm people horribly. Today I came close. I was angry, because of the aforementioned, and I threw my stuff across the classroom. Surprised I didn't get in trouble actually. I have tried everything to curb my anger, but lately it gets the better of me, and it is turning quite...bitter.
"A crazy person doesn’t really loose his mind it just becomes something more entertaining"
Insanity is my substitute for television. If you're crazy, you don't need T.V. The voices in your head are enough. Once though, I met someone who could hear the voices in my head. And now, as I walk further and further towards complete insanity, the voices have been overshadowed by his, and I am slowly finding that the desolate school in my head I have been hiding in is starting to finally crumble. The line of insanity is blurring, as the voice that took over carries me slowly back into reality.