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[needlebomb]

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Comments

[needlebomb]

i don't have any.
just gotta do what i can to stop myself from trying to throw myself off a building.
get a girlfriend, get laid, listen to music. do my homework. practice fighting. study.
all that's important right now is keeping busy.

before she died my mom told me that life is meant to be rushed. ran through like a yellow light.
i guess until i find something concrete, that's what i'll be doing.
finding things to run through.

[ he doesn't have a reason to live anymore - barely had one at home, having only stumbled into king's because of a fake rep in the first place - so, yeah, it's back to drowning out the bad thoughts, hoping he'll be sent home and doing what he can not to disappoint his dead parents. he's probably already fucked up that last bit. ]

anyway, you said you don't know what you want here, but that can't be entirely true.
you're selling drugs. that's something. entrepreneurial experience must lend itself to longterm goals easily enough.

[confiscated]

i'm just dealing to make cash
it's not exactly the job i'd take if i had alternatives
but what's the point in trying for those here? you can't get far writing, creating art, or even working manual fucking labor
it's just sex here. sex and debauchery.

i had no goals back home. or i did, but i gave up on them
gave up on existing too, you could say. the world can spin on without me.

here though? i just want to take care of the people i'm close to
and to find some worth in that, i guess.

[needlebomb]

creating art shouldn't be about making money, anyway. baring your soul by tearing it from your chest and cutting it open on a piece of paper is as far from the capitalist machine as something can be.
but i get what you mean.

[ marcus reads over those last few lines, going back and forth on whether or not he wants to say something supportive about tate's mindset. taking care of the people he's close to sounds like a noble goal, but - well, he might say something needy or cynical or mean if he thinks about it too hard, so he figures it's best to just skip past it. probably kind of obvious that he's pointedly not replying to that part, but whatever. ]

what do you like to write?

[confiscated]

yeah, i know. you make art to make it
not to get rich, though sometimes that's a nice side effect
but here i'm not even sure there's an audience that'd appreciate it
should that matter? idk

[Hm.]

poems, short stories
i journal a lot which isn't much but life writing's a thing, i guess

[needlebomb]

validation is as much of a side effect to self expression as getting rich is.

i'd read whatever you wrote.
you should show me what you've done sometime.

[confiscated]

yeah? i'd do it for a 1:1 trade
you read my shit, i read your shit

consider it a creative challenge

[needlebomb]

no deal.
what even gives you the impression that i have anything to share?

[ other than the fact that marcus is rarely seen without his journal in his hands. ]

[confiscated]

so u cant write for shit?
thats ok to admit

[needlebomb]

if that's how you want to take it, sure.
but i don't write things with the intent to share them. it's all personal.
if that's a dealbreaker for you, then so be it.
if you change your mind and want to show me what you've done, let me know.

[confiscated]

so it's ok to ask for someone else's journal but not offer your own
i get it. we'll see if i come around to the idea of letting u in my head, then

when did u start ur journal anyway?

[needlebomb]

i didn't ask to read your journal. i asked to see your art.
big difference.

i've had it for as long as i can remember. started in the boy's home. just wanted to keep a log of all the important stuff i was forgetting.
when did you start yours?

[confiscated]

long time ago.
i've kept three

one from before, one from after
i don't have the first one anymore
but i arrived with the second one
so i've been adding to it too.

gonna need another real soon

[needlebomb]

have you written about me?

[confiscated]

yeah

have u written about me?

[needlebomb]

that's private.

[ hypocrite. ]

what do you mean by "one from after"?

[confiscated]

bitch.

that's private.

[needlebomb]

how is it private?
you brought it up.

[confiscated]

it's private bc i say so

[And you were a little bitch just now, so.]

you want an answer, gimme something in return
barter with me, info style
otherwise, tough luck ever finding out

[needlebomb]

friendship isn't supposed to be transactional, you know.

[confiscated]

yeah but i feel like im offering up a lot and not getting much back

two way street.
but fine, after is after death
im a dead kid from the 90s
i haunt shit and make kids cry

happy?

[needlebomb]

i'm not trying to be withholding.
i've told you more about my life than i've told anyone in quite some time.
letting you in as much as i have has been a pretty big deal for me. sorry if that doesn't feel like enough for you.

[ dot dot dot. ]

are you fucking with me?

[confiscated]

does it sound like i'm fucking with you?

[needlebomb]

it sounds like you're pissed at me for not letting you read my diary, so you're making shit up to embarrass me.
that's what it sounds like.

[confiscated]

u don't believe in ghosts?
out of everything possible in the world
this is me fucking with you?

[needlebomb]

i think american youth of the 1980s are only going to survive in a future stacked against them if they move into it with a tight grip on a healthy amount of skepticism.

prove it.