SUNDAY JULY 10TH, 2011
(Family Expression)

a voice speaks to me

3:34 AM
Dreamed of Musicians waiting for me at my hou Bones.
Yeah. Bones.
That’s what I dreamed of.
..I’m gonna go take a walk.

3:40 AM
Donnie woke up and came with me.
Mister Brown was already awake, in the kitchen. So he came along too.
Yeah, let’s all take this fucking walk.

3:42 AM
donnie "Jordan, where are we going?"
I just want to see.
"See what?"
I just want to see. You don't have to come.
"I'm coming to make sure you're okay."
It doesn't matter. I'm fine. Maybe not. Just, please. Let me drive.

3:58 AM
Such a silent ride we had.
There was once a time that I could always expect a few cars around here at this time of night.
I mean. It's the apocalypse. This is one of the most.. standard things to expect. I guess that's not the real issue.
I just. I had been hoping to get to be here again. This has been the worst year of my life, I was taken away from it all, from it all. I wasn't a popular child, I was told by teachers I'd have to wait for high school or later before I came into my own, one teacher even told me I'd have an uphill struggle into my 30s, and I took all that as promises, good news, something to hope for. And I did, actually, start to.. get friends in high school. I had great friends. I had a best friend.
And then we had to go back.
And my parents made that process even worse than it had to be.
I guess I didn't make it easier. I'm a dumb fucking teenager. I know this.
But I don't think they even realized just how severely isolated I became.
And. Anyway.
So I'm here now. By chance? By my own desire? I don't know why the Musicians sent us here. And all that's left is... this.
I think I'd have been better off not seeing my home in this state.

4:03 AM
I have so many memories of this neighbourhood.
The stone sign at the top where I’d wait for the bus in the mornings.
The road from the sign and down, which I’d walk every afternoon.
This brown house here, where we lived in when I was six.
The house next door.
Black mailbox, sign below it reading “75.”
Driveway curved so far upwards it’s a safety hazard.
Wooden steps leading up to the stone path.
Stone path leading to the stone steps.
The front door.

4:10 AM
…oh.
Brown and Donnie are just watching me. Have been all this time.
How long have I been here, just looking at this front door?
brown "A while. If it's all the same to you, I'm just gonna take a look around the neighborhood. I don't need to see a kid get this depressed."
And off he goes.
Donnie wants to hold my hand. But I just want to write.
I know this front door, this general area, so well.
Good memories and bad.
There’s the memories of long days at school bringing me here with relief.
Then there's the memories of sleeping in school because it's at least peaceful there. My grades dropping.
And all the memories of my computer, my room. The stories I'd write for a fanbase. Then everyone grew up and found friends, and I just continued writing my stories for myself, putting my enthusiasm somewhere, hundreds of thousands of words uploaded to the internet that only I even read. Because I was left alone. Always alone.
This sucks. This sucks, why are we here? Why did I bring us here?
hand squeeze

4:14 AM
…"We don't have to go inside."
You're right. We don't.
"We came to America not out of an active desire, but just out of reaction, we had to get out of England."
Yeah.
"We don't have to see this."
We don't.
...the door opened by itself.

4:15 AM
Foyer.
Screaming, shouting, barking, ultimatums, threats.
Living room.
Fights, fists, knees, kicks, punches, flipping over chairs, rugburn on my neck… knife in my ear…
Stairs.
Suited men lead me up. Donnie's saying something but I can't hear.

4:22 AM
My bedroom.
Nothing's left here, no furniture, no computer, no video games, no silly posters on the yellow walls. I have nothing to remember my childhood by.
"This is where your mind was forged."
Yes.
"This is the bedrock on which your adulthood will stand."
If we make it that far.
"It's an empty room."
Just a lot of memories.
"You came to this country to get away from threats you didn't understand."
I was such an idiot.
"You are sixteen, and you have no future, and you are wasting your present."
Yeah…
"You don't even write about your memories in your journals. You talk more about the music that kept you alive in England."
That's the sickest part, isn't it? That's the part that guts me. I'm going to die here, and everything I wanted from my life is gone, and the apocalypse didn't even affect that. Who I am will be forgotten, even in my own mind.
"Lie down, White Jester. Lie down and wait for landslide."
Wait for landslide... wait for the earth to swallow me whole…
"Do you want to see?"

(Attached: “Jordan sleeps here for a very long time.
I'm assuming we all know the dynamics of abuse, yes? The things it does to your brain. The judgement that comes from within, internalization of a flaming pressure. The Fears know. They are born from those fires, they feast on the colors our stressed thoughts make. They're not all that supernatural; they're what happens when humans take stories seriously. Those words which we all share, the power in a Name... this is a family expression to us.“)