PARABOLICAL GRAFFITI

I really wish I had some kind of idea how I got here. This has got to be the strangest thing that's ever happened. And thats saying something considering my boss is a big blue talking dog and I'm a power ranger from 2025. It scared me because it sort of reminded me of a time I was captured by this monster named Bork and woke up in a shrinking room. I sat there for a few moments and checked the walls to make sure they weren't closing in on me, and then the hallway. Now I'm almost ninety five percent sure that it isn't some kind of death trap-and wished I had some buttery toast. If it had been a death trap, I probably wouldn't have had a computer and would have been locked in that room. I guess it probably wouldn't have had a bed either.

I wish I could sleep. I'm so sleepy..but I can't. Unless I am sleeping and I'm dreaming but I'm not awake to tell myself that I'm dreaming. I felt something Something bad evil. I've gotten this bad feeling that I've had before. And that time it came true. Last time I had this feeling it was fighting giant robots, but this time..was something different all together. It had fangs. Last time I checked giant robots didn't have fangs. Do they even have teeth? There was a girl wearing dog tags made of some kind of silvery shiny metal. Curly brown hair and a crossbow. I don't think it was going to end well..But I woke up feeling like I hadn't slept at all and with a a terrible headache. I haven't been able to get back to sleep to see how it's going to end.

I never thought I'd say this but I miss Sid. I miss how he whines about everything and completely forgets that he's not the only one with a fucked up life. I miss the Tony that isn't on crack. And I miss 'Chelle and her really nice legs.

I'm so bored here. I thought partying would make it better but it's just a load of bollocks without them.

I feel a bit weird now. I can't stop thinking about some things. I really wish Mark was here with me. He died at 13. It was after he learned some dangerous information, things which I would rather he heard from me than eavesdropping in his room. I honestly hadn't wanted him to die in the cold forest. It just.. happened. I asked him to come with me. He refused three times. I probably would have let him walk off. I was going to. But.. umm.. I don't know. It was like a haze, like you're there, but you feel like you're someplace else. Felt like something was going on, except there was a sense of having no control over it.

I've been at the center of some tragedy. Some have done it for me. But.. out of all of those, Marky is the only one that I truly feel bad for. He was a good person. I don't usually think of him all the time, just once in awhile. There are times when I feel that things around me would be much better if he was here with me. We were the best of friends. I can only imagine the fun times we could have in this crazy city.

And when I do think of him.. well, I can't describe it, the thoughts I have about him being gone. It's like having a cake, and noticing a big slice missing. And... I have no clue why I am even writing this. I'm certainly never one to talk about myself, especially about regrets.. and believe me, this is one of the big ones. Maybe it's this truth shit going around. But.. uhh.. Mark? If you can see me from where you are, if you know where I'm.. umm.. well. Okay, I'll just say it to you anyway: I'm sorry.

Six weeks ago I went to the Smithsonian and ripped off a hand from one of the mummies and kept it. And after that I went into the Mammal Hall and knocked down all the animals and destroyed two of the monkeys when I ran over them. I also took a fossil of a prehistoric fish thing and a beetle from the Insect Zoo.

When I was fifteen I smoked crack with three other kids in an alley in New York. I did it six other times after that with the same kids in the same place. And I used to steal people’s money and credit cards all the time. When I was still doing that I used the aliases Wally West, Jay Garrick, and Barry Allen, which now freaks me out because I know that in the comics those people are real.

Also, Damien Thorn is a pervert and he probably rapes kids for fun. He said gross things to me and now I want to smash his skull into a brick wall. I’m saying that he’s the antichrist from the hotel for right now, although I always figured the antichrist would be less… retarded and child-like. If he comes after me will somebody please interfere?

No matter how much you do, it's never enough. I'm sick of feeling like a failure because I can't save them all.

I really hate that my mum and dad were never the same after my brother died. I tried to be like him, and as funny as him but they split up and I reckon dad always blames me, or doesn't think I'm good enough. Either one of the two. I get the feelin' that neither of them really care about me, and as long as I don't die and roll off the face of the earth they're not going to start caring.

I also hate how everyone thinks because I have a shag here and a joint here I'm a tit of a guy to be around.

I keep getting these fucking headaches and it reminds me of the way my brother died is beginning to piss me off!

Whoever drew the yellow unicorn on my door with purple flowers is gonna get punched. And it’s gonna hurt. And the blue carebear shirt that was put on my cat is not funny. I frickin hate this hotel. These people think they’re getting more hilarious by the second and I hate to burst their bubble, but they are not comedians.

[Filtered to people at the Hyperion]

Since I’m like giving you guys pizza and candy and stuff, and since I already have friends staying at the hotel, could I come and stay there too? I don’t want to keep making Oliver spend his money on me staying at this place and I think there’s an antichrist in one of the rooms above me, and I think he has a gross sex toy up there with him and it freaks me out. I could help with stuff.

SPLIFF FOR SALE.

Okay. Who in the world is this Ashley Tisdale girl and why does she think she looks like me? Because she does not, at all!

Her nose, is nothing like mine!

And she could not sing if her life depended on it! Could she be any more nasal?!

My fucking head hurts.

Anyone got a couch I can surf for a bit?

Single, white male seeking attractive (but more importantly loose) woman for an illicit night of romance.

- And/Or -

Panty-waist oncologist for late night snacks and TiVo'd episode of The L Word.


Must bring their own chips.

Where are you animals hiding your parties? I'm beginning to think you're all a bunch of stingy prudes.

I want to kill something.

This isn't Bristol, yeah? I kind of noticed that when I heard loads of Americans yabbering on about a load of nothing back there. Is this some kind of hilarious joke, Maxxie and Anwar? Because let me say something now, it's not funny. I dunno where you got the money from to pay for these yanks.