Oh god I just had the worst nightmare ever. I dreamt that I never got
married or dated or left home. An old spinster living with her parents, and
wiping their asses when they can no longer reach. And as I wipe their ass
they would tell me how great my sister is and that I should have been like
her. Married with a tribe of snotty little Cordelia clones running around.
I will watch these monsters whenever Cordelia goes away with tall and blue-
eyed Mr.Perfect , to some tropical paradise where they will drink colorful
beverages all day and be massaged by gorgeous natives, after they swim in
the warm aquamarine waters of the ocean. Yep they will be having fun while
I sit at home wiping my parents asses, and being called 'Auntie' by a gang
of perfect demon children. I can't let that happen! I couldn't stand
listening to my mother everyday for another forty years and that's if she
only lives to be in her seventies. With my luck she'd live to be a hundred
and therefore outlive me, having the last laugh. I bet at my funeral she'd
complain about my hair and complexion and I'd roll over and groan in my
coffin and she'd say "Cliona Arwyn Shade don't use that tone of voice with
me!".
I don't want to be that spinster, miserable ass wiper babysitter! That is not me! I have to make something of myself so that Cornelia will look at me with envy and so she can wipe my parents shit and watch her own kids. I really think this place, my writing could be my way out. I'm going to do it, so that one day forty years from now, I won't wake up and say "I hate my life". Well I must go now duty calls and that stuff.
Day Two, Shade Experiment
The creature seems to be responding quite spectacular to the stimulant. It has taken an avid interest in the young female and showed active life were before there was none. Tomorrow we will reduce the dosage of the klextrastopaline sedative in order to show if there are stronger physical and hormonal reactions. Must think of way to get the female to speak and move more in order to see if it has reactions to certain movements and vocalizations. -End-
Here I am back in the crusty room. Oh well I'm going to work real hard on this essay. Let me see, what to write, what to write. Oh damn! Stupid writer's block! It's hard to be inspired when your surrounded by walls. Well maybe there is something interesting about these walls, if that poet Robert Frost can write about a stone wall, I guess I can find some character in a brick wall.
"My Sister"
By Cliona Shade
I have an older sister, her name is Cordelia. She thinks that she is so cool and wonderful, but really she's not. Come to think of it, I don't think she really thinks she is great either, it's just an act to boost her confidence and brainwash herself happy. She always smiles, no matter what she is feeling, which irritates me. People have varying emotions and it is only healthy to express them. Cordelia also always.
"Miss Shade?" asks a quiet voice from outside the door.
"Yes?" I reply. Who could it be?
The door opens and in walks a little old woman carrying a boombox twice her size. She reminded me of an ant carrying a giant cookie or something.
"Can I uh help you with that?" I ask standing politely out of the way as she jams herself past me.
"No thank you, I'm fine." Says the little bitty old woman, brushing her hands on her uniform. She goes to leave the room. "Excuse me, what is this for?" Can this place get any stranger. A super woman of an old lady carries in a boombox and dumps it in my room. It can't possibly be for me, it's too expensive! Not that I wouldn't mind...
"It's for you to entertain yourself with dear. The Boss said for you to not write today, but rather eat, drink and use this boombox, it is yours" grunts the woman, as she wanders out of the room. Yes! Yes! Yes! PAAAARRR_TAAAAYYYYY!Whoo-hoo!
Bye Bye writing! Well for now anyway. I have to follow "The Boss's" order's don't I? So I go into the cabinet and grab a can of soda and a bag of orange cheeze doodles and prepare to chow down. I turn on the ultra cool stereo and flick the dial. Country, Country, Oldies, Disco, Country, Weather, Classical. Yekkk! What? Do Mainers not have any taste in music! I'm going to get my cds. So I grab a doodle for the trip and quietly sneek into the linoleum covered hall. I rush to my room and grab my cd case. I run back out to the hall and feel like an regular James Bond. The names Shade, Cliona Shade. In my head the dannna-dana-naaannaaaaaaa, song plays. I am cool (alright I won't go that far, how about hopelessly deranged?) I make it back to the room without any enemies attacking, and swiftly plant my bottom into my chair and pop a cd in to the boombox. .
Ah System of A Down's prison song. Head banging music to my ears. Let's blast it baby!
"MS.SHADE!MS.SHADE PLEASE TURN THAT DOWN!" yells the old lady with arms of steel.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY?" Honestly they expect me to lip read or something. First they give me music, now their bothering me?
Oldi-won-Bonjovii walks toward the boombox and turns the music off.
"Miss..Shade.please keep the music quiet, you are upsetting the other testers and the staff. Please play something softer, perhaps something you could sing along to?"
She exits again. What an odd thing. I think me blasting music is better than me singing along to something. I know this is corny, but it's the only light music I have. Good ol Johnny Cash. I push the button to number to track number 2. One of the saddest songs, "Hurt"
"I hurt myself today.." I start singing softly. My voice is the equivalent to a banshee's, but it was relaxing. Before I knew it I had sung half of the cd. I looked up and it was check out time. I shut the boombox off and headed to my room. Just another day.
I don't want to be that spinster, miserable ass wiper babysitter! That is not me! I have to make something of myself so that Cornelia will look at me with envy and so she can wipe my parents shit and watch her own kids. I really think this place, my writing could be my way out. I'm going to do it, so that one day forty years from now, I won't wake up and say "I hate my life". Well I must go now duty calls and that stuff.
Day Two, Shade Experiment
The creature seems to be responding quite spectacular to the stimulant. It has taken an avid interest in the young female and showed active life were before there was none. Tomorrow we will reduce the dosage of the klextrastopaline sedative in order to show if there are stronger physical and hormonal reactions. Must think of way to get the female to speak and move more in order to see if it has reactions to certain movements and vocalizations. -End-
Here I am back in the crusty room. Oh well I'm going to work real hard on this essay. Let me see, what to write, what to write. Oh damn! Stupid writer's block! It's hard to be inspired when your surrounded by walls. Well maybe there is something interesting about these walls, if that poet Robert Frost can write about a stone wall, I guess I can find some character in a brick wall.
"My Sister"
By Cliona Shade
I have an older sister, her name is Cordelia. She thinks that she is so cool and wonderful, but really she's not. Come to think of it, I don't think she really thinks she is great either, it's just an act to boost her confidence and brainwash herself happy. She always smiles, no matter what she is feeling, which irritates me. People have varying emotions and it is only healthy to express them. Cordelia also always.
"Miss Shade?" asks a quiet voice from outside the door.
"Yes?" I reply. Who could it be?
The door opens and in walks a little old woman carrying a boombox twice her size. She reminded me of an ant carrying a giant cookie or something.
"Can I uh help you with that?" I ask standing politely out of the way as she jams herself past me.
"No thank you, I'm fine." Says the little bitty old woman, brushing her hands on her uniform. She goes to leave the room. "Excuse me, what is this for?" Can this place get any stranger. A super woman of an old lady carries in a boombox and dumps it in my room. It can't possibly be for me, it's too expensive! Not that I wouldn't mind...
"It's for you to entertain yourself with dear. The Boss said for you to not write today, but rather eat, drink and use this boombox, it is yours" grunts the woman, as she wanders out of the room. Yes! Yes! Yes! PAAAARRR_TAAAAYYYYY!Whoo-hoo!
Bye Bye writing! Well for now anyway. I have to follow "The Boss's" order's don't I? So I go into the cabinet and grab a can of soda and a bag of orange cheeze doodles and prepare to chow down. I turn on the ultra cool stereo and flick the dial. Country, Country, Oldies, Disco, Country, Weather, Classical. Yekkk! What? Do Mainers not have any taste in music! I'm going to get my cds. So I grab a doodle for the trip and quietly sneek into the linoleum covered hall. I rush to my room and grab my cd case. I run back out to the hall and feel like an regular James Bond. The names Shade, Cliona Shade. In my head the dannna-dana-naaannaaaaaaa, song plays. I am cool (alright I won't go that far, how about hopelessly deranged?) I make it back to the room without any enemies attacking, and swiftly plant my bottom into my chair and pop a cd in to the boombox. .
Ah System of A Down's prison song. Head banging music to my ears. Let's blast it baby!
"MS.SHADE!MS.SHADE PLEASE TURN THAT DOWN!" yells the old lady with arms of steel.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY?" Honestly they expect me to lip read or something. First they give me music, now their bothering me?
Oldi-won-Bonjovii walks toward the boombox and turns the music off.
"Miss..Shade.please keep the music quiet, you are upsetting the other testers and the staff. Please play something softer, perhaps something you could sing along to?"
She exits again. What an odd thing. I think me blasting music is better than me singing along to something. I know this is corny, but it's the only light music I have. Good ol Johnny Cash. I push the button to number to track number 2. One of the saddest songs, "Hurt"
"I hurt myself today.." I start singing softly. My voice is the equivalent to a banshee's, but it was relaxing. Before I knew it I had sung half of the cd. I looked up and it was check out time. I shut the boombox off and headed to my room. Just another day.