String-tied hearts

2020.02.11, by Giovanni
Filed under Journal, Personal, Relations

It’s been maybe a week since I’ve written in my journal. I need to keep up with this…

C. hasn’t touched us for some weeks now. Ah, my hand is still sore from cutting it the other day… I’m pressing too hard into the page. Luckily it was superficial. I just have to be careful with my fingertips. Ansel was upset I was so sloppy. He doesn’t want me using the Opinel for a while. I’m not going to be the one sharpening it, either. (“Or any other blades.”)

I hope to remain good friends with Cain. He’s… He reminds me a bit of myself. But aside from that. He seems to be a very caring person. He and Vince seem to be the best of friends. I’ve yet to meet his partner, but I’m going to assume Emme is kind, caring, and intelligent. I’d like to hope so. At this point, all I know is that they’re Icelandic. A quarter. I wonder if they and Yuuka-chan would have much in common to share, about Icelandic culture, mythology. If they’re with Cain they’re probably pagan, too. I’d like to ask but I’m unsure about how to broach this sort of question. They might not want to talk to me. The same misgivings that S. once had…

Ansel and I watched Resident Evil: Vendetta today. I have some thoughts on the sound design… An RC car scared me. That’s impressive and I hate the filmmakers for that. Anyway, it helped me feel better, so thank you Leon Slutting Kennedy for that.

It’s been harder than usual to focus today. I’ve lost my words more often than usual. Bedi’s worried. He says I’ve been reading too much. Heavy cognitive strain.. He and Ansel think I’m pushing myself too much again. I was so proud of the reading I’d done recently—maybe I have pushed myself too much. But we’re all workaholic book-eaters in this family… Just like Radi said about our fox.

My triceps are definitely still hurting, haha.

That artbook—the reprint—arrived today. I watched the film yesterday… I want to talk about it with Cain some time. About the scorpion of Baldora Field… Maybe I’m foolish. I get hooked on connections far too easily. I love… far too easily. Sometimes I wish I wouldn’t, y’know? My heart is bared every time.

…But I can’t allow myself to lapse into misanthropy and regret. All the lives and feelings that have come into my radius—I cannot regret life itself. Others have suffered far worse. At least I know what it feels like to cherish something. It took so much out of Ansel, that fear, hatred, resentment, contempt loathing odium everything—I will not allow myself to fall into that. Not again. I have to live.