Somebody emailed me asking for my phone number.
Why the fuck would I give my phone number to you, idiot?! Do you think I want to be stalked, attacked, raped and mutilated? ha ha, no thanks, I'll pass on that, my head is already killing me and if I was in any more pain you stupid, stupid, person it just might bleed over onto you!!
That said, I've had a very pleasant day.

My phone conversation with Shigure:

Shigure - Hello?
Akito - Who do you think it is, Moron?
Shigure - *gasp* Akito, I'm so glad you called! I was just thinking about you.
Akito - Stop talking. Hang up the phone. And get over here so I can ravish you.
Shigure - Sorry, No can do. I have a guest.
Akito - Fuck your guest!
Shigure - I just might do that.
Akito - What?! Who's there?
Shigure - Aaya.
Akito - ...Oh.
Shigure - I'll tell him you called.
Akito - Don't do that.
Shigure - Oh?
Akito - Just send Yuki over instead. I'd rather ravish him, anyway.
Shigure - You're bruising my ego.
Akito - And mine is completely unaffected. You just told me you'd rather visit with that bitch then with me!
Shigure - I was just kidding. I'll be right over.
Akito - Don't bother.
Shigure - It's no bother. I'll make up something, he'll fall for it, I'll show up and ravish you, we'll be done in five minutes.
Akito - Now you're just insulting me.
Shigure - Did I say five minutes? I meant to say five hours.
Akito - I don't care what you meant. I'm serious. Don't bother. I shouldn't have called you.
Shigure - Now don't be that way.
Akito - I'll be whatever way I want.
Shigure - Akiiitohh--
Akito - Don't talk to me, you sorry sack of shit. There's a gorgeous, concerned, undersexed doctor in the next room and I am getting out of bed now--
Shigure - Undersexed? Ooh, shame on you, Akito. You've been neglecting poor Hatori.
Akito - He deserves it. He's withholding morphine.
Shigure - ...*heh* Since you need so much more of that...
Akito - I do, actually.
Shigure - ...
Akito - I'm hanging up on you now.
Shigure - To show Hatori some mercy, I hope?
Akito - No. To tease him some more.
Shigure - You are positively evil.
Akito - Thank you. Not that it will get you anything.
Shigure - I'm serious. Once a man fucks you, he can't go without it for long. You shouldn't do that to the man who regulates your medication.
Akito - That doesn't really matter, seeing as he's never fucked me.
Shigure - ...You're kidding.
Akito - What is that supposed to mean?!
Shigure - Um...
Akito - You're calling me a slut!
Shigure - No...
Akito - You are.
Shigure - Well. Maybe a little bit.
Akito - ha ha. Thank you, I was afraid you weren't going to give me credit.
Shigure - But what do you mean, he's never fucked you?! He's been your doctor for all of...what...five years, now? And he's never...
Akito - Even laid a hand on me, besides when it was medically necessary. Amazing, right?
Shigure - Why haven't you told me this before?
Akito - It was more amusing to string you along, making you insanely jealous and insecure.
Shigure - That was why you would never answer my questions.
Akito - Because I didn't know.
Shigure - How do you live with yourself?
Akito - Very carefully.
Shigure - So you were kidding about going to ravish him.
Akito - No. I was serious.
Shigure - But...
Akito - I figure his time of ravishing is long overdue.
Shigure - ...Not that much. Really...
Akito - No. It is. I'll talk to you later, then?
Shigure - Here. Um...You sit tight and I'll be right over.
Akito - No. You'll stay there and give Ayame my regards. Tell him Thank You for me. I might not have come to my senses today if you hadn't so blatently rejected me on his behalf.
Shigure - He was just leaving...Really, he was just--
Akito - Goodbye, Shigure.
Shigure - Akito! Wait! Akito--
*CLICK*


There. My phone conversation with Shigure as of three days ago, recorded and now posted for your viewing pleasure.
And since you're dying to know (you and Shigure), the details on what happened with Hatori:

Nothing.

Well. I made it to his office. Almost. I stood outside his closed door and listened to the scratching of his pen. And then I felt sick. So I went and laid back down.

Vaguely, I wonder... why I feel so conflicted every time I think of that man touching me.

Perhaps it is because I've seen what happened to Shigure. He was right--once a man fucks me, he can't go for long without it. And it's not because it feels so good. It's because it hurts them.

And all men are masochists.

And I am poison.

And Hatori's hands tremble when he touches me.

I'm trying to save him.

Girls are gross.
I don't like their boobs, or their lack of a penis. That is just freakish to me. Why would you want to have sex with someone who doesn't have a penis? Furthermore, why would you want to live if you didn't have a penis?
For some reason, most men seem to enjoy having sex with, and fantasizing about having sex with, women. Hatori wanted to marry that bitch...what's her name? Just kidding. As if I could forget--I know everything about everybody in my family. Just like I know that Kana has been fucking her husband twice a week although he'd like it more, does not plan on having children any time soon, still dreams about my Hatori although she can't figure out why, still wears her hair like a fucking schoolgirl, wears innocent white underpants although she's a damn slut, wears a size 8 in Women's shoes, writes about her feelings in her pink little diary, is still going to Medical School with no end in sight, eats mocha chip ice cream at midnight when she's depressed, and has been going to counseling because she bursts into tears at random moments and can't explain why.
I know everything about her. I know everything about everyone.
If only I could manage to forget everything I know about that sad little flower I'm unfortunate enough to be related to, I would be much happier.

ha ha. Probably not.

The point being, thoughts like "Would Hatori like me better if I had tits?" and "Would Shigure call me as often if he wasn't a pedophile?" keep on troubling me and I can't sleep although I've got a raging headache.

I wonder why everyone wants to fuck me.

I wonder why Yuki is the one exception to this rule, and why he's the only person I can't bear the thought of living without.

I wonder why he likes that cunt, Tohru Honda, better than he likes me.

I wonder why dying suddenly doesn't seem so terrible.

This room is never clean.
I am getting really sick of it.
The servants come in here on tiptoe, acting like they're trying to be respectful of my delicate condition...they stoop down and pretend to scrub things. When they leave, the layer of dust is just as thick as before, and there's an unpleasant odor lingering in their absence.
I hate my family. They're trying to drive me crazy. I am, of course, entirely sane regardless of their efforts; but I sometimes feel like that won't last for long.
After all, how anyone is expected to work in a room this filthy is beyond me.
I lost my temper and threw some stuff around. I felt better for a while after lying in a pile of broken glass. My frustration bled out of me, and I painted a picture on the wall.
The words are dripping now and there is a blank in my mind.
The scent of angel is heavy on the air. I awake, and my hand brushes his shadow.

He has left me forever.

Damn. Apparently I have been living in the past. They have something called text messaging now. A minute ago I recieved this really annoying message on my cell phone. It was from Shigure. It said: "Hey there, sugar blossom! :) How's my sweetness doing?"
Strangely, a nauseous feeling came over me although I haven't eaten anything today and I nearly lost control of my extraordinary willpower and puked--but I didn't.
Needless to say, I did not reply to that pointless and offensive message. When did I give that idiot permission to refer to me as "sugar blossom" or "sweetness"? Gag. That's revolting...and not reverant in the least. He should be punished for that.
Stupid dog.

10 Things I Hate About You:

1) You're not a Souma.
2) If you are a Souma, then you're ungrateful and you're stealing the very breath from my body by satisfying your own lungs with oxygen; stop leeching off of my lifeforce, you freak!
3) You're ugly.
4) You're the ugliest thing I've ever seen.
5) Whenever you open your mouth, I feel a migraine coming on.
6) You're defiant.
7) You're obnoxious. Stop smiling! Stop it.
8) You're not writhing in pain.
9) You actually believe that someone in this world could love you.
10) You have about fifty more years to live than me.

I like making lists.

Something has been called to my attention recently--in the rudest possible way.
My pet writer came over last night; I'd hardly said "Hello," before he was out of his robes and pounding me into the floor. Normally, I'd enjoy this rough sort of treatment. Sadly, as I was nearing the height of my passion, he chose that moment to tell me, "Akito. You know what your problem is? You have no sense of humor."
I was so shocked I actually let him finish.
After he left, I went outside into the cold, damp night and stared up at a starless sky and screamed, "Why?!"
Why would anyone say that to me? I do have a sense of humor. I do.
I laugh when people cry. I think it's hilarious. All you have to do to make me smile is squeeze out a few tears and really, I'm rolling on the floor with laughter--or at least, sneering. Once, I broke my cousin's arm and he howled for hours; I found that so funny that my ribs were hurting for days from laughing so hard.
I make nasty phone calls daily, letting people know what they've done to ruin the world they live in. And then I laugh when they have nervous breakdowns. It's a hobby. I like to laugh; I like to hurt people who've pissed me off. The two go hand in hand. How anyone can accuse me of not having a sense of humor is beyond me, and quite frankly, it's hurtful.
I won't stand for it! Damn, I'm getting mad...
I think I'd better take some morphine now. The pain is getting intense.
All you people out there who think that I don't laugh...
You're wrong!

I have been absent for a long while. Two weeks and counting... For two weeks, influenza has opposed me... A microscopic organism that is smaller than my eyes have the power to see, has left me shaking, weak, feverish--and vomiting the small amounts of water I've managed to choke down, in a pitiful effort to cling to a life I despise. A needle has provided my vitamins and minerals, and the irritating voice of my doctor calls me back everytime I attempt to leave this world...

"Hold on. We need you here with us. Be strong."

Why does he say these things to me? He has been saying them ever since I was a small child. I have never understood his reason. He wants me? He cares? I laugh to imagine such things. After all, I do not see him taking my burden upon himself. His love cannot run so deep.

I suppose it is true, that only I have the strength to endure this pain. I was born for this very reason. But I confess, in private--in the depths of my soul alone--I have had many a moment of weakness. And I have longed to hear the voice of one who is not obligated, urging me to live--telling me that I am needed in this world, not as a sacrifice, but as a friend, a loved one... someone who is irreplaceable to them alone.

But that will never happen.

I am recovering from my illness for the time being, and so I will put aside complaints. For it is true that loneliness loves despair, and my goal in this world is to make evident my wrath, before death swallows my soul--despair does not encourage such a mission.

So I will state my goal for this week plainly: Rectify the damage that has been done to the family's account budgeting. During my bout with the flu, one clever individual by the name of Tatsu Souma bullied my assistant into signing his consent for a new fountain to be constructed in the Main Square.

We do not need a new fountain. What is wrong with the old one? It never ceases to amaze me how, at the first sign of my possible demise, the family gathers together and plots how they may best destroy themselves. What foolish children I have! Why do away with hundreds of years of tradition for the sake of a passing fad? I would truly like to understand this abnormal way of thinking.

That is all for now. I must retire. And ponder how best to approach this delicate matter...for my family is easily broken.

Technorati Profile
Technorati is a nice community for those who are searching for specific blogs. I have not yet had the time to explore it in depth. I have created a profile on their website. Supposedly this will bring attention to my blog. Could this be a way to make new friends? I have never had a friend that I could completely be myself around. It might be nice.
I am still somewhat reluctant to try this thing called friendship, though. I do not believe that a human being can communicate with another without eventually breaking them. Experience has taught me that humans seek out pain.
I once attempted to get close to another... Dearest Yuki.
I don't believe he will ever recover.

The One They Call God

I have always hated the internet. It is just one more place for outsiders to invade my privacy... the constant flashing of "cookies," bombardments of spam email advertising for products I do not care to hear of... it all makes me sick because it reminds me exactly what this world, and this life, is all about. Stuff. Money. Materialism.

I have plenty of it. It's the one thing I do have. Will that stop me from dying? Will it make others respect me and feel grateful for my sacrifice? I think not. Instead, they will cling to me with false smiles and empty words, begging me to solve their problems--to put aside the pain of my throbbing headaches and constant nausea--and shower them with my wisdom and benevolence.

It's because of those people, the ones I call family...that I am resorting to this. A blog. Someplace to state my true thoughts and feelings without worrying about how it will affect others. So even though I hate such cold, pretentious means of communication--for me it seems to be my only option. Perhaps here, in the midst of so much shallowness and deceit, I can be honest.

What am I feeling now? The only truthful answer I can give is that I don't know. Sometimes I wonder if God himself--the real God, wherever he may be--knows the answer to that question. The only emotions in myself that I can recognize are rage and pride. When I am angry I feel alive. Alive...meaning that I am aware that my heart is beating and that my lungs have air. The blood that I find on my hands reminds me that my skin can feel something from the outside world.

Pride? It is what holds me together. I know that I am strong. Only I have the strength to bear the pain that would devastate all others. It is why I was born. To bear that pain. I will not relinquish my hold on it. I will not pass that burden to another by taking my life. Death is what I fear and Death is what I crave. I am so in love with Death that at times my need for him eclipses my need for all else, and the needs of others. How I long to die and be done with it...but they need me to suffer here.

It took pride to not show how much it hurt me when Yuki left. It takes pride to stop myself from begging for forgiveness--from all of them. I want so badly to be forgiven, for I love them in spite of what they have done to me. But I can not forgive them for their dismissal of my life and so I do not expect to be forgiven by them for spilling their blood and breaking their spirits. We have a love-hate relationship, my family and I. We feed off of one another's pain.

An outsider would not understand this.

I find myself wishing on stars. Counting the seconds until that blissful day. When my eyes will close and not open...when my heart will lie still in my chest. My doctor injects me with morphine on the worst days, to make the pain bearable, and I fancy that I can taste the sweetness running through my veins. He is a good doctor. Perhaps I should not have taken his one joy. I could not help myself. He's been with me all my life, helping me to bear the agony that he does not understand. To allow him to be with Kana would mean my death, for the rejection from him, my life-support, would have been the killing blow. And if I die, the Soumas die. I can't let them die...they need me to watch over them and prevent their extinction. So I made Hatori let Kana go, to save us all. I think he understands this. I see it in his eyes.

So...he does not blame me.

Others in my family cannot see past their own pain and consider what is best for everyone. I am a harsh ruler, I know. My orders cause them pain. Loneliness. A feeling of being unworthy of this life. If I didn't think it would break me, I would open my mouth and say, "Sacrifices have to be made. Haven't you learned that by now? Does my sacrifice teach you nothing that will help you to survive this ordeal?" Perhaps those words are better left unspoken.

While it is true that I am harsh, it is also true that my family has never been more safe. Any member of this family can read in our history the trouble that previous generations of Soumas had in maintaining secrecy, and in protecting themselves from outsiders whose suspicions were aroused. Because I am hard on my family we avoid many of the problems that our ancestors had. Because my family fears to go against me, knowing that I will injure their bodies or minds as punishment for their sins, we have very little to fear from those who would destroy us.

But this is just one more sacrifice that I make. Because they fear me, my own isolation increases. I am seen as a wrathful god who will be provoked at the slightest offense. And because they put me into this box, I resent them for depriving me of what I feel is the one thing tying me to this world when I am hurting badly enough to leave it every day. I crave love so deeply that it causes an ache in my malnourished soul. What can I do? I must take it from them. They refuse to love me after everything I do, and that enrages me and fills me with determination. If they will defy me, then I will punish. If they neglect me, then I will take.

Do they think they are the only ones hurting? I am overwhelmed with bitter irony to think that the one they call GOD... is the one who is hurting most of all.