I STARTED OUT thinking this Moleskine would help me become a fiction writer. Instead I’m becoming a diarist. I guess I shouldn’t fight fate. Anyway, diary writing was good for Virginia Woolf and Anne Frank. Not really very encouraging examples, I guess. One killed herself; the other was murdered by Nazis.
I overheard something I wasn’t meant to hear. Shade gave up playing boss and turned it over to Dekka. I almost can’t believe it. Shade is growing up, adding wisdom to intelligence. I love that girl, but the truth is I’m relieved—Dekka’s the closest thing we have to an experienced leader.
New York. Never been there. Hell of a first trip. I’m scared. I imagine everyone is. Scared. I don’t want to die, and I don’t want to see any of my friends die. I am sick at heart for all this madness. I would almost rather be home in Evanston listening to my father sneer about ladyboys and chicks with dicks and all the rest.
Almost.
I’ve spent some time Googling pictures of people who might be useful, people I could pass as if necessary. My “repertoire” now includes a couple dozen folks. It feels wrong just taking people’s appearance and using it, but I tell myself it’s necessary. This is war, isn’t it?
I just crossed myself and said a prayer, something I haven’t done in a long time. War. But like no war ever. This isn’t against some foreign enemy, it’s a war of us against us, all against all, and no one worth trusting besides ourselves, and no one to follow.
Except Dekka.
Earlier I hid in the bathroom and morphed into Armo, which was just plain creepy and stalkery, but I find myself thinking about him a lot, which I know will end with me in tears. I know I’m rushing straight into pain and sadness and loneliness, and it’s not like I need to look for more pain. I know I’m becoming obsessed, and I know what obsession did to Shade. I’m not crazy; I know it will end in embarrassment and humiliation. Maybe that means I’m actually more crazy than Shade—she at least thought she had control, and I know I don’t.
I’m walking into a punch that will leave me hollowed out. And I can’t seem to stop myself.