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saturday, early afternoon, the cafeteria [Sep. 8th, 2005|08:01 pm]
Winston Academy

Another week and somehow I managed to survive the people and the workload. I overdramatize a slight bit, perhaps, but I really ought to get working on that film of mine. After all, wouldn't be kosher to disappoint one of the most influential lays of my life, right? I stroll into the cafeteria with a notebook in hand and an assortment of Sharpies and pens in the back pocket of my cords, necklaces and bracelets exposed by my wifebeater. I let out a slow exhale, casting about for someone I know. Not really hungry as I just worked out and showered and that always gives me just as much energy as any meal, but at this time of day there should be a lot of people hanging about. Hmm, who would be good? More importantly, who can I get to participate in an extremely amateur sci-fi action flick about alien invaders and superheroes?
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Saturday early afternoon, Prof. Bean's office [Sep. 7th, 2005|10:29 pm]
Winston Academy

It hadn't taken long for the rumors of old to reach my ears. A few hours in the cafeteria, a coffee in the lobby and you'd be amazed to find out that this school was bustling with activity. Of all the wrong sort, I add to my thoughts as I move easily into Professor Bean's office, surprised to find it wasn't locked, though I imagine the staff had developed some measure of trust amongst each other.

Fingers traced the edge of the man's desk, noting the pristine looking tabletop and perfectly organzied documents. His stapler, pens, paperweight. . .Everthing had its place. Emmaculate, would be a good word, but something rings obsessive compulsive. Some small bit of respect is given to that. I appreciated anyone who took good care of what was theirs.

Plopping myself down into the chair behind the desk, I take in everything around me. A stack of packets which I assumed to be lesson plans, a few homework assignments which had been graded. The name at the top of the list doesn't surprise me, but it does earn an amused little arch of my brow. Alex Band. Oh, I have heard tales of the two. Late night visits, all too friendly touches in the halls and by the fountain, there were rumors galore.

A smile plays at my lips as I continue my browsing, stopping to pick up an old looking hardback of The Screwtape Letters, thumbing through it as I wait patiently for Sean. I had high hopes for him coming in today. I've been itching to play the antagonist all week.
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Saturday-Late morning-My room [Sep. 8th, 2005|12:53 am]
Winston Academy
I walk back to my room with a sigh and throw my keys down on the desk before i bundle up on to the bed and pull a blanket around me like a protective cocoon. When i slept in the bed i'd failed to notice the little bear and the now scrunched up note that had been dragged towards me by the blanket and i frown inquisitivly and pull the bear over to me.

Saturdays used to be days when my whole faily would sit around together, or go out and do something fun. Mum always tried to compensate from being an only parent- here at Winston it was just lonely. This who huge building with its echoy halls and near empty rooms was lonely, and I just played the part of Outcast too well. It was these thoughts that caused me to isolate myself further, to protect myself from getting to know anyone else who would later abandon me for my sins.

This place wasn't fun anymore. Theres only so long you can enjoy your own company before you even begin to loathe and dispise yourself. It hits a point where you'd rather be completely empty, even of yourself, than have to have one more game of solitaire...

I felt the term " Dying of boredom." was slowly coming true.
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Saturday Morning Cafeteria [Sep. 7th, 2005|07:38 pm]
Winston Academy

I had so much fun yesterday with Ryan. I've had lots of fun recently. First the film making with Jeremy, Billy, Greg and Drake and then I met Ryan. I wonder what fun I end up doing today.
I order some cereal and cocoa. I smile when I walk into the booth. Nobody else is here yet, I wonder where everyone is. I think I should find Greg today, maybe we are going to finish his short film today. I sip my cocoa and glance at the door hoping others will join me.
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Saturday-Early Morning-In my room [Sep. 5th, 2005|09:53 pm]
Winston Academy
I sigh as i open the mini fridge to find a cooled can of soda which i pop open and sit down on the edge of the bed.

I'd got up early to call home- them being 5 or 6 hours ahead of me back in England- and had a lengthy talk with my mum, about the school about my course choices, about getting myself in trouble and how i better not have done. Not to mention how my writing was coming along ( which i out and out lied about). I shift about and settle back against the wall thinking of everything thats come up, and wondering how many times I can dodge answering questions, aimed at me directly.

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Saturday early morning in my bed [Sep. 5th, 2005|10:41 pm]
Winston Academy

I need to pee. That's the first thought I have when I start to wake up. The room is dark. I hear my roommate breath and feel Drew breathing against my chest. I slept surprisingly well with Drew. I don't normally sleep well if someone's next to me. I smile and wipe my eyes with one hand. My other arm is under Drew. I don't want to wake him up yet, but I really need to go to the toilet. Carefully I start to slide my arm from under him.
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DAY CHANGE [Sep. 5th, 2005|03:47 pm]
Winston Academy

Saturday! Day Change! Saturday! Day Change!

Everybody have fun! Morning! Noon! Evening! Night! Enjoy! Mingle and meet each other!
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Friday LATE Night Colin's Room [Sep. 4th, 2005|04:13 pm]
Winston Academy
Goodness knows we saw it coming, didn't we. I've lost my fucking mind. I looked everywhere for it. All over campus, but it seems to still be gone. . . Wasn't in the cooking room. Wasn't under the bed. Funny how minds just seem to run off sometimes.

I did, however, find a beautiful straight razor in my old toiletry bag where I sit on my small bathroom's floor, sort of flicking it this way and that, teasing myself with a grin on my lips. Bought from a store in Los Angeles, the city of broken dreams. My music is blasted, way too loud in the next room. Some punk-irish rock shite that probably no one appreciates but me.

I fucking hate this place. I hate that I have no fucking friends, and I hate this country. I want t'go home, but what would I have there? Nothing, probably. I miss Vin. I like Raine. I miss feeling like I was important to people. . . Now I'm just the drunk irish brute. Fuck, even that Sting guy that didn't even know me seemed to despise me. Now, I don't want to be an angsty teenager. I don't want to cry, or whine; and low and behold I haven't. Not once. It hasn't hit me yet. . . nothing has. Numb. I can't feel shit about any of this.

Sometimes, you just wonder why you're here.

I always wondered if red was my color.
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Friday evening, dorms [Sep. 4th, 2005|11:01 am]
Winston Academy

It's been a long day. One of those days where everything just seems to play in slow mode, a numb sort of detachment in everything I do and say, as if this were all some sort of dream. I don't think I've woken up. Between the disappointment and the anger and all the self-loathing, I'm surprised I just haven't thrown something. But I scribbled down a few lyrics, something I haven't done in awhile. I suppose that's something.

The pencil in my hand is dropped as I sit at my desk, utterly spent from all the running around I've been doing in my brain, overanalyzing, worrying, wondering. Travis has yet to come back. He's out there, sick and probably distraught. And a good portion of all of that is my fault. I let my frustration get the better of me, swoop my hand over the desk and all its contents, let them tumble to the floor in a clatter that should have been satisfying but just left me feeling childish and everything Sean would probably frown on.

Sean. My brows furrow as I bend to collect the fallen things, paper strewn over the floor, a lamp tipped over with the bulb still burning, pens and paper clips and little pieces of my heart that are scrawled on yellow post-its. I certainly have made a mess of things.
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Friday,Late evening, just coming back to winston [Sep. 2nd, 2005|10:41 am]
Winston Academy
I haven't been able to talk to Lindsay for a while, i had to fly home fore an emergency visit to my grandmother who was sick. My mom wanted me to be around if "anything" happened. Her health is fading pretty badly, i havent been myself...i can't eat...sleep. My grnadmother was the nucleas of my life for a while...to see her so weak,ghostly. It kills me. Ashton had came with us, he knew her and wanted to be around for support. After we made it back he went off somewhere..mumbling something about some girl..and i went wondering. Trying to find Lindsay, explain...apologize. I hated myself for being so selfish and not being able to give her all my love and attention...but ive just been so emotionally strained. I sit on the steps of Willow hall sullenly...waiting to see her. She probably hated me..and if she did i'd have to spend my last strength on changing her mind.
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