Yasuhiro Sugihara's Journal

Subject:	sololo
Time:	4:03 pm.
Mood:	blah.
Music:	ain't afraid to die -- Dir en grey.

Embrace known for a hundred years
darkness enshroud
you who has held me in times
when lovers would not.

No need for a lovers caress now
fingers recoil
they will not touch death
it reminds them of what they are.

Time still binds them, teaches them
eyes weep
they know they are like me
they will be lovers in the earth.

Submit gracefully to her embrace
sleep soundly
she is the lover who won't abandon
when maggots consume.

I led them all with the promise of my own life spared. Marguerite was still with child afterall and I had a family to protect, a future to look foreward to. Selfish it seems now that I did not consider all of their futures in the same moment. I could only blame the anticipation of my fatherhood I suppose or the fear every man has of death. I still recall the looks on their faces when they realized it was me, I see it in their eyes every time we are called again.
The first time I saw the old man was at a ragged old booth at a small market in the Auvergne countryside. Large cities did not exist in that time, it was dangerous to travel at night and I with my wife was travelling to the nearest town. On the outskirts was the market, she plead for a chance to spend the handsome inheritence left by my late father and I just shrugged her on. At times I wish I'd stayed behind in the carriage that day but something called me out, the coins I had in my pocket burned.
He was waiting there with a smile full of crooked teeth and face etched like old leather. I near expected it to creak whem he moved and spoke to me. "A bobble sir?" He held up gold chain on it was a jeweled shape I did not recognize. Something near a cross though it looped at the top and within the loop was metallic beetle. An ankh and scarab naturally, though I did not know these things at that time. The object enchanted me and the man's promises of eternal youth and healthy only served to losen the coins in my pocket.
I met back at the carriage with my wife clutching my new treasure within my pocket. Secret little treasure, somehow I knew it wasn't meant for other eyes.
We reached our new home and though our furniture was late in ariving (much to my wife's dismay) I was pleased by the views and atmosphere. I reasoned when my health started to decline after that day that I must have picked up some sickness on the journey, my wife naturally worried for me. She was very round with child when my body had withered to the point where I could barely rise from bed. The doctors were confounded as to their instruments I should already be dead, yet I remained sick but alive day after day.
I kept my precious jewel with me constantly, I could feel it as a steady warmth in my palm. Eternal youth and health, I prayed to that false cross with every breath that I would rise from my bed again.
The night after my skin had taken a sickly palor and my wife woke me every hour in the fear that I might be dead, I saw the old man again. He was different, straight wicked teeth and youthful skin yet I knew by his eyes it was the same. He stood near my bed and whispered things in my ear, how he'd tricked me and cursed my life unless I did as he asked.
Bring me a life which stands for each: beauty, revenge, saliva, and pure blood the mirror of virtue and sin, and I will release you from this curse.
I felt the sickness leave then, he'd freed me with the capability to conduct my search. I tried to attack him then but he quickly proved the threat of his word. By some magick he controlled the sickness and it slammed into my body with agonizing force. Crippled on the ground he hovered over me again and waited for my acceptance of his offer. My wife was calling below, she'd heard the noise, I could not leave her and that child.
"Yes." I agreed. By the time Marguerite stuck her head through the door he was gone.
The first I found the next evening upon attending a social gathering without Marguerite, she'd stayed home as it was too hard for the dear to walk. Beauty and I recognized the sinful vanity in it immediately, a man who masqueraded as a woman yet did so with such ease that most of the like gender were unaware. On the second night, with the cursed jewel burning in my palm I found the second. Though I knew not for what reason he saught revenge the desire for such burned in a manner that near frightened me. I thought then.. what was to happen to these men.. and would those eyes for revenge one day be on me?
Never the less I found the third in a sanitarium, quite a frightening place but the jewel drew me there. I should mention that along the way I gave each of them a promise, guided perhaps by the jewel of something their souls terribly desired. At the sanitarium I spoke with the staff and had a release for the man into my care on the fifth night. The last was the most puzzling to me, a mirror of pure blood, virtue and sin, surely they had to be separate people.
I found them both on the fourth night as senior students attending the St. Sebastian's Boys Academy in the town up the road from mine. Mirrored blood indeed, twins so like eachother that only by the separate glint in their eyes could I tell them apart. They were given a promise just the same as the rest and invitation to meet me on the fifth night.
Marguerite would be visiting her parents that evening and I'd arranged a meeting in the garden. A small fire burned in a pit which attracted each of my little moths to their inevitable fate. I didn't know their names then, I hadn't thought to ask as it didn't seem important. All of them seemed anxious as time wore on but suddenly the old man was there again. Standing behind the fire he seemed an wicked thing illuminated by the devilishly orange glow.
"I brought them all, now lift this curse!" Their questions and protests were numb to my ears by then, as was the first of their screams and the ones that followed. The man didn't seem to move yet each of them were dead, I could smell their blood in the air. How horribld, I could -smell- it. My hand clutched the jeweled pendant tightly, so much I felt it percing my skin. The man took it from me and I cried out for my precious thing.
"Betrayal, was all I needed." The achingly cold steel of his blade touched my throat and I felt it cut clean through. I smelled my own blood then and tears I suppose, if I had time for them as my body fell to the ground.
I wish I could forget that death beyond anything else. It haunts me the most when I try to soothe myself listening to the insects crawling and chewing through the earth around me. A corpse, a dead thing, I suppose that is what I am closest to being yet there is not peace I find in this rest. A true corpse would not feel the worms crawling through it's flesh, the greedy maggots wiggling through my soft insides. My punishment I was certain, for betraying those souls. Perhaps this was the hell all good christians feared, or perhaps this is what waited for us all in death. To be eaten alive in the arms of the earth until there was finally nothing of us left to care.

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Time:	1:08 pm.
Mood:	sad.
Music:	A Child Recalled-- Spirit's Within ST, Elliot Goldenthal.

it's a funny thing saying goodbye, of course not funny in that haha way..

more like funny in that I just got my heart ripped out through my throat kind of way.

I think when someone comes to visit or you visit someone the first thought you have when the arrive is how hard it's going to be to say goodbye. Of course you push that away and live in a happy sort of denial in the meantime, because you can't let those feelings stand in the way of your time together. When it's over though, when the denial is shattered and you're forced to deal with that goodbye you knew was coming from the beginning, it still hurts.

No matter how much you promise yourself you aren't going to cry, somehow it still happens. Of course most people would ask (especially my parents) if the goodbye's are worth it, if the long distance is worth the trouble and pain.

I guess I still have to say yes, because even though it hurts, it doesn't so much as being alone. I know there's still someone somewhere that loves me, and even though they aren't in my room right now sitting beside me at least they're somewhere.

I hope I wasn't a dissapointment because I was sick, somehow it figures life would find a way to screw things up.

I keep telling myself april isn't that far away, it isn't really. I have to find a job in the meantime now, wouldn't be surprised if mom doesn't start in on it today and destroy my few moments of peace. I don't want to see them today, the rest of my family, maybe I'll just keep the door locked. Feigned sympathy from my mother is not something I feel like dealing with, I just might have to puke.

I bought myself some books at the airport and have lots borrowed, so I think I'm going to go read and spend my day in bed.

I love you. Fly safely.

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