Log in

No account? Create an account
Fryderyk Franciszek
23 April 2006 @ 09:42 pm
I want to go on a picnic and get ravished in the woods or something, but it's been raining. A lot.

You know, there's a point where you're just so content with things in your life (getting smiles in the hallway, my new sonata, smiles, a wave and a "what's up?" like he's interested) that a beatdown from everyone's favorite Russians doesn't matter.

I didn't check the mirror but I think I have a black eye. At this point, it's hard to remember what I said that was so bad in music theory today (it may have been about a part of that one Shostakovich piece I never cared for... we were talking about him I think - kind of fuzzy now), but I guess I kind of offended someone and got ambushed crossing the courtyard to go to the library. Ouch. At least I wasn't packed into a tiny little locker, or pantsed, or hung on the flagpole and hoisted up to the top by the collar of my jacket (worst moment of my life). This was relatively minor: just a few scrapes and bruises, sore eyesocket (Nikolai has good aim). Doesn't hurt though. Ice packs are my friends.

I wonder what Trent's up to? He's had detention for something other, and Boudicca's been so vague about it. Maybe they have to go kill small children. For population control. That would explain her not wanting to talk, I guess... or maybe Trent tried to molest her. (That would be weird, huh?) I think I'll go visit him.


P.S. - If anyone ever reads this, like when Alexander found it that one time, I don't masturbate a lot. Sometimes I see closed doors and I can tell who's... doing it, but that's not me. Okay? Just for the record. In case someone reads it.
Fryderyk Franciszek
18 April 2006 @ 03:53 pm
That was a miserable spring break. I spent it in the hospital before I could escape my family, and I went back to school early. Of course.

But God can't hate me. He just has a lot of laughs at my expense sometimes. The non-hatred was proven only yesterday when I went to the gym lockers to find my good pen and my chemistry book. Long story short, I'd misplaced them and that was the last place to look, so... there they were in the toilet. (!) Using the very tips of my fingers, I pulled them out and wrapped them in a towel so I could put them on the heater once I got upstairs - but all such plans were GONE, of course, when I turned the corner and what do I see but a basically naked Alexander - sweaty, hair all tousled... Yes. Of course I hid my eyes (or sort of did) and made an excuse I can't remember, while he turned from his locker and looked at my confusedly, all smiles, you know. Like he does when he's happy.

I'm still weirdly giddy about it, because he's practically flawless - and not only that, he was so kind to me afterwards. It took him a moment to realize he wasn't wearing anything (not that I minded, but it wasn't quite appropriate). So once he did he tugged on a pair of boxers as I walked away and... voilà, manhug #2. Practically a tackle. Bonecrushing. Wonderful. Right now I'm sighing out loud. He just seemed so interested in my spring break (which he asked about), so sympathetic... asked if I'd been beaten up recently, and he thought it had been Trent that time, so... I explained it to him. Quietly, and as quickly as I could without staring at him. We had a nice heart-to-heart, I think. (Somehow his semi-nudity liberated my tongue.)
Did I really just write that? Oh damn. He was just so sweet, and my stutter wasn't so bad... It was kind of ironic, though: the gorgeously perfect (and naked) jock with history books poking out of his locker and the most incredible smile and abs you could imagine; and the clumsy, stammering, diseased music dork with a wet towel and book, sticking-up hair, and real clothes.

He didn't even seem EMBARRASSED. When I walked out of the locker room I collided with Anne and had the weirdest feeling of déjà vu. She pushed me out of her way but I felt like it had happened before. Weird, huh? (Alexander's certainly much better to touch.)


P.S. - He's fucking huge.
mood: pervy
Fryderyk Franciszek
02 April 2006 @ 07:18 pm
Spring break. Sigh. My brother (who just happens to be the genetic clone of Vladimir Lenin) has been spending his time working with political action groups - surprisingly not Communist ones; he's actually getting involved with the Senate 2006 stuff, for the Democrats - while I sit at home unable to write a single note of music.

If I was a girl, I would be afraid I had gotten pregnant at that party. That's how bad it is. I have nightmares about what really happened. It's AWFUL.

At least I have quiet time. It's very sunny, so I usually sit on the porch with my headphones and read: I've already gotten a little tan. I'm so far from school... thank God. And I've already visited my doctors, who are all sure that that I'm dying, but won't tell me so. I feel wonderful, if not a little depressed about school and friends and shit. Being home is nice, even if it's boring. Even in the mirror I look healthier, but apparently I weigh less and sometimes I wake up with blood on my pillow.

If every day of this break is going to be 'wake up, shower, get dressed, have breakfast, read, have lunch, work at the piano, maybe take a walk, go shopping, have dinner, piano till everyone wants to sleep, read, try to sleep', I may look up where Trent or someone lives and borrow my brother's car and just leave. Because I realise my life is going nowhere. Except for the piano competition soon... though my parents aren't too keen on me doing it, given that the name 'Fryderyk Chopin' on a list of students at a music competition is going to need some explanation.

I need more friends.

Fryderyk Franciszek
31 March 2006 @ 06:35 am
After the party I woke up on the floor of my room, and my pants and boxers were slid half-off. My shirt was still on, but I had one hell of a hangover, and there was definitely saliva on parts of my body I'm not mentioning.

...what the fuck happened?

Not nervous. No. Did not contract syphilis. Of course not. Or any other disease.

Fryderyk Franciszek
29 March 2006 @ 08:43 pm
Alexander's been here too, and though I've spent most of my time sleeping and reading, it's still sort of... awkward. Ever since the journal thing I can't look him in the eye, and he knows why now. Boo.

I'm feeling better, though! They realised they gave me the wrong medication (they gave me the expired meds for Ludwig's syphilis... nice), which is why I'd been so sick. So thanks to the proper treatment, the hypothermia is gone, and my cough isn't as bloody as usual.

Party tonight. They want to keep me here, but I've been so bored. Sneaking out will be half the fun. I should wear those gold boots and my good jeans and a nice shirt: THE WASHERS ARE FIXED. Sometimes I just love the world.


P.S. - I hope this isn't like that one party in freshman year where someone made mustard gas, thinking it would be a "fun" sort of thing. It's a weapon, not some trippy hallucinogen or something.

P.P.S. - Ersie's charging? I'd better look damn good. I hope Alexander is going.
Fryderyk Franciszek
23 March 2006 @ 07:18 pm
It's so cold in here. I'm trying to tell myself it's the TB or the poor heating in this place, but I'm wearing as much clothing as I can and I still feel terrible. It might be because I went around the back of the English building to take a shortcut to physics and slipped in an icy puddle and walked around dripping all day, or because I then lost my dorm key and had to wait for one of the security guys to realise that I wasn't a terrorist and actually am Freddie Chopin. Or it was possibly because I got in and took a shower with my clothes and I haven't been able to dry off until just now.

I don't feel very good right now. The nurse probably is so sick of me that she'll send me back... but I'm starting to look a bit grey and am shaky and my heart is beating funny.

I just flipped a coin, heads for going, tails for staying, and it was heads. So long as I don't run into Alexander, or Trent-in-his-disturbingly-tight-pants, I think things should be okay.

Fryderyk Franciszek
22 March 2006 @ 09:58 pm
I did not deserve that unnecessarily and admittedly almost pleasurable rape of my eyes. Trent wore... it's hard to write.

Leather. And a collar. And straps and mesh and things and OH GOD. It was shocking, and I'm sure this is punishment from God for something I did. Probably falling on him from when Peter stuffed me in the locker. That's got to be it. It's like a trainwreck, seriously. AND I COULDN'T LOOK AWAY.

My clothing is worsening every day. I've had to resort to concert t-shirts I don't want to admit I own. Pretty soon it'll be a Hooters t-shirt that appeared in my closet one day with no explanation whatsoever. I've worn most of my pants twice now, and have been sticking to what fits the best. Sadly this isn't working, and I feel very very nervous about this. Music theory class has been terrible because everyone smells like dirty clothes and they play instruments so it's loud and I get harassed by the Russians.

...how much would I have to pay someone to take my laundry into town and do it at the laundromat? Wait... I don't trust those things. I hear they eat quarters. And ruin your clothes.

How much longer can we hold out???

Hey... Jack's around again. He's in the infirmary, and I have no clue where he was, but if he was unconscious anywhere in the room I'm going to feel really bad. Or if he was on vacation and got raped by vengeful male prostitutes or something for stealing their clientele... I would feel bad for not sticking up for him.


god, i'm really sorry
Fryderyk Franciszek
20 March 2006 @ 11:15 pm
Have barricaded self in room.

A Commune, some beheadings, and a red flag all seem imminent here on the western front - I've been wearing old clothes, clothes that are too big, clothes from Jack's closet... and I tried to do my laundry in the tub but Peter threatened to beat me up if I didn't clear out. So I did. And here I am. The walls are closing in, and I'm wearing the following: pin-striped trousers, a purple scarf, a green Doors t-shirt, headphones, and bunny slippers. My socks are all dirty, and I shouldn't have waited so long and thought they'd been free all weekend and now they're broken. Dammit. Today to go to classes I wore cheap, old jeans that were probably inappropriately tight and made me look even skinnier than I already am (they shrunk a while ago and now everyone should know why I wear designer jeans and not this crap), a rather shapeless black sweater I miraculously found in the very back of my closet, and rain-boots with my last pair of socks, which wouldn't fit into any of my normal shoes.


...Maybe I could try showering while wearing the clothes, and then using a blow-dryer to dry it all off? But I don't like damp denim. Ew.

I really don't have OCD. I swear. But I'll have to leave to get food, or I'll go completely insane, assassinate someone, support an oppressive Committee of Public Safety, or establish a fascist dictatorship in the wake of a failed treaty. Or I'll just pee into milk bottles and watch black-and-white movies while completely naked.

Fryderyk Franciszek
18 March 2006 @ 10:37 am

drinking is not good
broken washing machines are worse

Fryderyk Franciszek
14 March 2006 @ 09:47 pm
Sure, it was misspelled, but she did appreciate it. See, things are going wonderfully!! I managed to bake a small cake - tasteful chocolate - and frosted it with a green border. (The only other colour I could find was pink and I thought it would offend her. Definitely a good move on my part). I wrote "Happy birthday, Bouddicea" on it in icing. And of course, I was rather proud of it.

With my certain aspects of genius come certain failures: for me, one is spelling. I only realised after I finished it that it was entirely wrong. Of course, I didn't have time to change it, and ended up delivering it anyway. Turns out she was a bit annoyed, but it's B. (not writing that name anymore) and lots of things annoy her. She didn't smack me or anything. In fact, she was so busy trying to seem more coolly peeved than she actually was that I noticed she was actually happy underneath all of it. For a warrior queen's clone, she's not so scary as some people think. (The cake was rather delicious, too.)

Oh, I'm tired today. Probably due to the fact that I'm still not sleeping properly. But hey, you can't win 'em all.