From the Livejournal of Cole DeVries: Darkness

Mood: 😐 grim

Music: Bauhaus – She’s In Parties

The world is a ruined abyss of endless torment.
Mayhem and madness are all that is left.
Monsters are everywhere.
Craven beasts pick their way through the wrack and ruin.
Searching in vain for remnants of their own lost souls.
I am a ghost.
I am nothing.

That’s a poem my new girlfriend Cassandra wrote. I got it tattoed on my back so that I never forget it. Brian said I shouldn’t do it, that it’s too creepy. He called Cassandra and me “a couple of d*mn freaks.” When he said that Cassandra smiled and said “you’re right, we are d*mned.”

Brian doesn’t get it. He thinks happiness can be found in things like being young, playing baseball, having lots of money, and going on dates with sexy girls all the time. But that’s not happiness. Happiness doesn’t exist. That’s what Cassandra taught me. I met her at the tattoo parlor where she works. She also models on the internet. She's the only one who understands me now, the only one who believes that this isn’t “just a phase” like Janelle whispered to Dad when we went to dinner at Bucca Di Beppo last night. Kaycie even laughed when she saw my new clothes, but then Cassandra hissed at her and that shut her up. Kaycie is going to grow up just like all of the other button down people who don’t see the world for what it is, endless suffering.

I looked back at some of my old journal entries, and I don’t even recognize the person who wrote them. Who was it that was so excited about baseball, about the major leagues, about impressing “Coach Gardenhire?” Not me. That person is no more. I now understand that baseball is just a part of the mainstream system designed to do nothing more than keep us all fat and happy. Coach Gardenhire is just a foolish old man running like a rat through a maze. And they all treat me like I'm a robot designed to collect them “wins” and “strikeouts.” And what’s it gotten me? Hurt. Hurt again.

I’m not a robot. I’m a tormented spirit doomed to walk this cursed earth and embrace the Darkness in all its forms. Cassandra said that I could maybe get a part time job helping out at her tattoo shop if I wanted. That sounds much better than being a conformist baseball player. So with this cruel message, I hereby resign from baseball forever.

So long my dark brethren,



8 thoughts on “From the Livejournal of Cole DeVries: Darkness”

  1. Fantastic. Now whenever I see Cole I'll picture Drakkar Noir, Jimmy's awkward teen alter-ego in Raising Hope.

  2. Oh no, this is a very depressing turn. I hope Cole can figure out his true self.

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