8/11
As I sit and count these clouds, I sure hope mom’s proud of me.
I know I said this was a journal for the documentation of what I’m now dubbing “The Case of the Living Television Show”.
It’s a...work in progress.
However, today I went outside. It’s something I rarely do these days. This is coming from someone who was deprived of the luxury of having a TV set at home.
It’s a risky venture, given the times, but I ventured the risk anyway. There’s a park nearby, where little kids play and, on the odd occasion, basketball players come over to practice. This was one of those even occasions.
There was a patch of grass where I chose to sit, for the shade under a tree. I still had a good look at the clouds overhead. I risked laying down, since I hated bugs and the feeling of them crawling over me. It wasn’t necessarily comfortable, but it would do.
I’m still here as I write this, just thought I’d set the stage. A minor reason I’m even journaling is because I have this stupid dream of being a writer. Hence why so far these entries are written weirdly.
Whatever. I’m beginning to think I don’t want anyone to read this. I must sound like a weirdo or something. Well, it’s not like I’m NOT a weirdo, but believing that a nonexistent television show is communing with me from another world sounds like something out of the Twilight Zone.
Oh yeah, I gotta tie this entry to the ponies somehow.
Well, I guess even bothering to come outside today is partly their fault. I watched an episode where the girls were mostly outside. They were cloud gazing, looking for shapes in the clouds. I guess, I wanted to do something like that. Maybe not consciously, I never had any interest in nature. But seeing them doing it and enjoying, I guess I wanted to imitate that?
Although, I’m starting to realize I’m missing something vital for this to work: friends.
I sat up. Or, I sit up. I’m assuming that I should write in present tense since I’m now writing what I’m doing. Man, this is gonna be confusing for someone to read. Wait, I don’t want anyone to read this. Do I?
Ugh, I don’t know what to fucking do! Am I crazy, am I in danger?! Should I trust the ponies or should I just blackout like before? Will they care? They seem to.
It’s times like this where I wish I did have friends to talk to. Maybe they wouldn’t give me the best advice, but at least I wouldn't be alone in this. We could be like the kids in IT, fighting against some eldritch horror with nothing but our wit and determination. Instead, I’m being talked to by a bunch of horse girls.
Whenever I was feeling alone, the only solace I had was my mother. I hardly talk to her and honestly, I should do that more. Perhaps now more than ever. But I can’t just bring this up. I’ll have to think of a subtle way to handle this.
The back is starting to chafe and I think a mosquito bit me. I’ll save this for later.
8/14
I almost had a heart attack at school today. Well, not really, but I was scared shitless.
I’ve been making a habit of carrying this notebook around wherever I go. I don’t want to risk leaving this in the house and my mom, or even my little brother to come across it and start reading. However, maybe I’ll have to.
I was in my AP Biology class, learning about...something. I usually zone out in the back, no one ever really notices. I even cried back there one time silently and no one even looked back. That’s beside the point. I was back there, reviewing a few of the transcripts I wrote down. Suddenly, the fire alarm goes out. There wasn’t any indication that we were having a drill, so I assume that something went down. (Note: Eavesdropped on a couple of students, apparently some students were smoking weed in the bathrooms. Typical.)
In any case, we were rushed out of the classroom. I followed behind the other students and we went outside, where we waited and waited until the firefighters showed up. They did their thing and we went back inside. Since we had lost so much time, the school must’ve decided to just switch periods. So, everyone just went to their next class, me included. I already had my backpack so I was fine with it.
It took a whole 5 minutes in my class, before I realized that I had left my notebook in my previous class. So, I excused myself to “use the bathroom” and bolted through the hallways, attempting to get to the notebook before someone got curious.
I mean, could you imagine what would happen if someone read this book. Best case scenario, I’ll be thought of as some as some “gay loser that watches a show about ponies” (which, wouldn’t be inaccurate, but still). Worst case scenario, I’m the gay loser AND a scizophrenic that everyone stays even farther away from and my teachers treat like a mentally deficient three year old. And that was only what I thought at the time! I’ve since come up with a bunch of horrifying what ifs if this book got into the wrong hands.
I managed to make it to the door and get a look. Just my luck, the notebook was mere inches from a girl, who was tapping away at her cellphone. She looked like she would be in a few popular circulars, not to mention she was a looker in her own right. Bah, whatever, doesn't matter. What mattered was getting the book and leaving.
A video was playing on the projector, hiding the sounds of the door opening as I snuck into the room. Well, it wasn’t really sneaking as I moved with the confidence that I belonged there. I managed to reach the table where the notebook laid. I grabbed it casually, eyeing the girl to make sure she didn’t have a sudden interest in going through people’s property. But no, she just continued on her phone. I quickly left the classroom, closing the door on my way out.
And that was that. I got my notebook, no one read it, and my secret was safe. It all felt rather anticlimactic. I mean, if it were the Main Six, every part of this adventure would just be a cascading failure. They would try to leave their classroom, only for the teacher to deny them. Then, they would come up with a convincing excuse and run down the hallway, only to be stopped by a hall monitor. Then, they’d distract the hall monitor and make it to the other class, only to find that the book was being read. They’d confront the student, the student would apologize for being nosy, they’d sing a song, and friendship would prevail.
My life didn’t work like that. I moved around like a ghost, with no one suspecting I even existed. Even when I spoke out, I was just another face in a sea of other, arguably more interesting people. Thus, I could leave a classroom, enter another, and no one would be the wiser.
In a way, it was useful for this retrieval mission. Yet, I can’t help but feel a profound sense of disappointment that I was so invisible in my own life.
Oh well, at least I can be a gay, schizophrenic loser in peace.