Helen’s Blog

8:40 AM 12/15/2007

Mm. I’m starting this post out with nothing in particular in mind. Just a ghost of the last post lingers, and the way I cleared things up.. it made alot of sense.

My times of sickness are hopefully over, and I hope to stay this way.

He says he’ll try and get back to drinking less. I believe him, maybe because I am a fool, or maybe because I am hopeful, and have faith in him. I just hope he doesn’t let me down. Again.

Anyways, on to a brighter subject, these days have been emotionally alright for me.. but I’m starting to reconsider what my true passions are, and what they make me. I know he doesn’t think highly of philosophy, but to be honest, there’s not much I can really do, being stuck here in a place like this. Always. To be honest, and I know I deny it most of the time, my dream was originally to be great. Not just great, but great in magical practice. It’s too late now.. my denial has caused me to steer forth another path, and that path is philosophy. The easy route out. If I was able, I would learn and practice everyday with or with someone else, until I was great..

But I’m already 15. Time is passing me by as I continue to deny my true dream. And I will continue denying it so, just so I can become somebody. A philosopher, is what I am now. And all I can ever will be.

Ugh, I miss real food so much. I’ve been living off crackers and portridge these past few days. I’m glad that Fall is feeling better. I’ve lost the fat around my belly; that’s one good thing that came with all of this. I don’t mean to whine or complain, because I know my situation could have been alot worse.

I keep having these strange dreams. Yesterday afternoon I dreampt of being raped somewhere in the sewer by fat old men. The most disturbing thing was the backround music that was softly singing:

go to sleep little babe
go to sleep little babe

come lay bones on the alabaster stones
and be my everlovin baby

And of course, this song reminds me of my most recent hospitalization because in the schoolroom the teacher would play these old songs for us. That’s a nightmare in itself. It was always very cold in that room; hell, it’s always cold in a hospital, but this room was extra abnormally cold. You’d feel it once when you walk in. I had to survive hours and hours of being in there, bored to death. I would usually just write Fall’s name everywhere there was room to, and that would keep me sane for the most part.