Ignis Fatuus Amator

Hi. I was inspired to write so I did. I'll give anyone who understands the person I am talking about in my story brownie points. Minor revisions that won't change the story are expected.

This story was based off a poem that I wrote for a class. I'll post both the poem and the resulting story. My mother does own the photographs that I mentioned, so you can expect heavy autobiographical elements in the story.

( Iranian Landscape, American Time: A Canadian Fairy Tale )

So my roommate wants to move out. At first she said it was to help a friend with a crappy roommate crowd the roommate out when she comes back from a semester's leave. However, neither my roommate nor her friend have talked to residential life about this. And my roommate doesn't sound like she wants to talk to residential life. I told her to and she wasn't entirely on board with the idea.

Then later that night we sit down for a real talk and my roommate says that she thinks I am overwhelmed by her. That is such a lie and I'm so pissed that my roommate thinks that. My roommate can go to hell for all I'm concerned.

Unfortunately, this does mean that I need a new roommate for the second half of my senior year. I don't want a roommate, so I'm leaving Porter and begging residential life for a single.

In other news, I'm so sick I feel like a glob of ooze. I'm so stuffed up I hardly want to speak. But at least my parents got along well with my girlfriend yesterday. That was the only good part of my weekend.

Yesterday was not good. Sovay's really sick and her stubborn refusal to accept help except when necessary is driving me crazy! So I'm using our general Wednesday homework day to make her that bowl of soup I promised a while back. And then some.

I cried so much yesterday it hurt. I never want to see someone say they can be strong for themselves while they keep getting sicker. There is a different between being emotionally strong to avoid being depressed and trying to recover on your own. Recovering on your own isn't always the best thing. I just wish she knew how to deal with the people that offer to help her on a daily basis because I can write another essay in the doctor's office if need be.

I feel better today, but it still hurts that I couldn't comfort Sovay while she was getting sick at the doctors. Do you know how it feels to get told that your touch makes someones skin crawl? Ironically, Sovay's skin crawls and feels disgusting whenever she is sick, but I learned that by getting told not to touch her. Awesome! And I hope you all smell the sarcasm steaming from that comment.

I also didn't find out that Sovay had been admitted to the hospital this past Saturday until she got home. Boo.

I hope Sovay gets better. I want our relationship to be more than just helping Sovay recover from sickness.

I got a pretty startling phone call this morning (at seven am, no less), and now I've lost the will to do much. My stomach is a wreck (and its likely not related to the aforementioned phone call). I got a semi-decent grade on a paper, though its not good enough to make my day too much better. And Sovay is just...making me worry a lot. I've done nothing but support her since July and I'm so disapointed to see her problems getting worse.

I hope that someday soon I won't be supporting people without receiving much because people can't currently give me something they don't have.

I want support, damn it. I know its selfish, but I have lots to do and people I love and only so much of me I can give. So I know I cracked a little this week and spent lots of time not doing work and not eating well toward the end of the week. But its better now that I've gotten over the initial shock of the gang writing and most of what is River Valley Academy and this morning's phone call.

So, get better soon, Sovay. I love you, but if you keep telling me that I have to support you and your problems, one day I'll turn to you and go, "I've supported you for a while. You can have my shoulder, but I've run out of encouraging words to say or the will to listen." And I don't want that day to come because I love her so much.

Just fix it like you are trying and don't let anything else get in your way. Because then I'll be proud of you no matter what happens. And if other things keep fucking up I won't be able to blame you and I'll stay in the relationship with a feeling of doom knowing that someone I like can't do jack about anything. And that will be a truly bad day.

So October 6th. I kind of like that day because it is supposed to be a turning point for Sovay. I'll celebrate anything that might take this constant worrying away.

Here is my submission for the topic brilliant. It spawned from a conversation I had with my mother about the reasons people like things that she hates. I think people who can find ways around barriers and accept the things that they hate are brilliant people.

My GREs and the upcoming arrival of a car made this week hard. I had to write during my down time after dinner or in the afternoon, where I was uncharacteristically tired. Enjoy the poem and make as many comments as possible.

( Tolerance is sheer brilliance )

Things going down in my life:

( An okay day deserves a semi-decent lj-cut )

Now I'm really tired and I need to sleep if I plan on being as active as I have to be tomorrow. Fuck, I wish this complete, utter exhaustion would disappear so I could watch the Men's All Around Gymnastics finals. I scheduled my test for one p.m. for a reason!

Here is my entry for this week. As usual, the events are at least partially autobiographical. The story is called Persian Paradox and it does contain some Farsi writing. It'll make more sense to the target crowd I am aiming to reach. The idea was for it to be all english until I ran into translation issues. English and Farsi tie as my first languages.

( Persian Paradox )

Here is a little story I am posting which may go friends only after this first week. I joined a writing community but was out of town for too long to participate in the first week's challenge. A day is most certainly not enough time to write a good story. However, I was so inspired by this week's prompt that I wrote a story anyway. This story will not be part of the official judging and I cannot enter the contest because I will only have around two days at most to write next week's prompt.

I am more of a poet than a novelist, so please excuse me if my story has more scenery than action. My ability to describe imagery is better than my ability to write plot. Also, I am not putting a warning on this story because some people won't be able to view it. But do realize that the story should be PG-13 by any cinema's standards due to slight nudity and what is implied and almost described as happening.

( My Mind's Volcano: My Submission For the Word Heavy )

I am writing about this story because I moved past the events which happened about two months ago. It has always been and will continue to be ironic that I am training to be a teacher of teachers who couldn't teach her girlfriend what she wanted to learn. And yes, that was one major cause of the breakup, although it wasn't put down as my fault.

I just want to package this story and let people know that it happened and I now have no more sadness to shed over it. It was done a long time ago and is now only a part of my past.

To my friends who read this: pause and think about how over this I must be to casually write about it before responding. It would mean a lot.

Comments and critiques are welcome even though I'm not officially participating.

damn damn damn damn damn! I missed class this morning and I feel like shit as a result. *sobs* My poor head. *moans* I guess I'm off to...fix this? *blinks*

My roommate hates the sound of my alarm so I forgot to turn it on. I have an incredible shitload of work to do as well.

The sky is bleeding again? Full moon on the horizon? Me bursting into tears during the olympics because of the beautiful music the skaters chose? That marks four times in two months. Well, 3 technically because I can't decide where to put the fourth. Half of what I am calling number four started at the end of January while the second half finished in the beginning of February. Man, everything has been so off these past two months.

Oh well.

If only you would tell me things, Heero.