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 Posted: Wed Dec 31, 2008 11:22 pm
I went down to the bottom of the ocean where the dead people go.
 Full Name: Harold Jace Brown Kensson
You Can Call Me: Harold
Gender: Male
Age: 28
DOB: December 1st, 1980
Persona: Reticent.
Likes: All forms of art, movies, cello, Bjork, the sea...
Dislikes: Drugs, being cold, being alone...
Friends: Syd, Meth, Sigur, Niraj...
Aquaintences: Calum, Etah and Tia
Enemies: None...
Mate/Love Intrest: Etah. He's my boyfriend...I think.
Offspring: None..
Parents: ...
Sexual Orientation: I suppose that now, it's quite obvious that I'm gay. So I really shouldn't hide it, right?
Theme Song(s): New Slang by The Shins Gobbledigook by Sigur Ros
Most of the time I just stared up through the water, hoping I could get just one last look at them.
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Posted: Thu Jan 01, 2009 9:17 am
I went down to the bottom of the ocean where the dead people go.
Lines by Ririka!
Most of the time I just stared up through the water, hoping I could get just one last look at them.
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Posted: Thu Jan 01, 2009 9:18 am
I went down to the bottom of the ocean where the dead people go.
Sydney: I couldn't save him...but I promised to stay with him.
Meth: We still get drunk together.
Sigur: Purely a business partner.
Tia: I like her, she's very nice.
Etah: ...he asked me for a date.
--
Calum: He's a nice guy, I suppose...I shouldn't be too angry. It really was never meant to be...
--
Niraj: Not sure if I should forgive him.
Most of the time I just stared up through the water, hoping I could get just one last look at them.
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Posted: Thu Jan 01, 2009 9:23 am
I went down to the bottom of the ocean where the dead people go.
I suppose it was out of character.
Though I'd been so silent over the years,
It was only because there was no one to talk to.
I took my bike,
My cello,
And some gifts.
I rode to the Fjord,
Wishing it wasn't so cold,
And I stared.
I closed my eyes,
Felt the wind,
Smelt the salt.
I pedaled hard,
Went the fastest,
Fell off the edge.
I clung to it,
As I clung to you,
Felt the cold fill my lungs.
It was not my last ride into the sea.
And it wasn't the last time you would see me.
Most of the time I just stared up through the water, hoping I could get just one last look at them.
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Posted: Thu Jan 01, 2009 9:24 am
I went down to the bottom of the ocean where the dead people go.
12|9|08
I felt the need for one more birthday spent alone.
I also felt the need to be with them.
So that's why I did it then.
I honestly thought I'd still be alone, though.
But, well, I'm not.
I've found them all.
I am...
Somewhat satisfied.
Most of the time I just stared up through the water, hoping I could get just one last look at them.
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Posted: Sat Mar 14, 2009 3:30 pm
I went down to the bottom of the ocean where the dead people go.
13|3|09
...sometime in the evening...
"I miss it. I wish there were places like it here, we could go...and have a nice time, you know?"
"Unfortunately it's not the type of place you can recreate, ást."
"You shouldn't call me that. You could get in trouble."
"I won't get in trouble, I promise."
"I've had enough with promises..."
"Don't worry. Remember? Things have changed."
"But-"
"Don't worry."
"Fine..."
"..."
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry? For what?"
"I...don't know."
"Don't be sorry, ást."
"Stoppit!"
"Why?"
"Hann vilja hugsa þú ert having óákveðinn greinir í ensku mál."
"Hann geta ekki skilja Íslenska. Við ert öruggur."
"Hjartarskinn hann vita?"
"About what?"
"You know...Hvenær við varúlfur ungur. Þessi einn nótt?"
"Neitun."
"Good..."
"You shouldn't worry...Það var a langur tími fyrir."
"I know..."
"We were stupid."
"I know..."
"How long was it?"
"A few years...four."
"Four."
"Yes."
"See? A long time. Things have changed, Harold."
"I know."
"It's getting late, ást..."
"Stop! If you don't stop...you'll slip someday, in front of him, and he'll be mad."
"It'll be fine, I won't slip. I'm going to go to bed soon, alright?"
"Alright."
"Goodnight, Harold."
"Goodnight."
Most of the time I just stared up through the water, hoping I could get just one last look at them.
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 10:43 am
I went down to the bottom of the ocean where the dead people go.
4|20|09
Memories from last year are lulling, and cold.
My mind's eye is sore from peering at the milky, brief little flickers of lonely images and scenes.
There are a few, though, that are so clear I must remove my glasses to remember them. It hurts to remember the more miserable ones, my stomach churns over itself uncomfortably. But, there is one, that makes my stomach dance over itself blissfully, and my brain can sleep to cotton humming.
It was a year ago, exactly a year ago, and it was the last time I saw Syd there, alive, at least. (Now, I'm aware that we are here, and in fact, living, but none of us are alive. We all died, and will never be resurrected.)
We went on a bike ride, visiting shops and cafes, and talking.
One part of our trip is vivid, and I relive it every once and a while, through the confines of our mind.
We took the back roads as we drifted home, taking in the silent suburban noises of lawnmowers and birds chirping, our bike tires whirring to the beat. I looked at him at one point, and I was filled with joy. The sun shone so gently on his thin face, his eyes were bright and saturated with light. Someone opened a window, and music sank out and carried us, together.
We sang to it, the whirring of our tires swimming faster, faster and faster I urged it.
His hair and my hair were blended with each other as we fell, our skin and our breathing and our heart beat and our eyes were all the same and we were in harmony and in sync and in love, not only with each other, but with the world and the air and music and liquid around and inside of us.
We laid together, floating there on the sea of asphalt, laughing. Our hands brushed against each other, and we were, indeed, one person with the same blood, clueless as to how he fell overboard and into the hard sea.
Dear god, it was beautiful.
Fragile
Most of the time I just stared up through the water, hoping I could get just one last look at them.
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Posted: Sun Apr 26, 2009 7:28 pm
I went down to the bottom of the ocean where the dead people go.
4|26|09
"Hallo?"
"Hae..."
"Sydney...how're you?"
"I'm alright...I got a strange call from Meth, though..."
"Meth? What happened?"
"He was drunk and rambling...but he said something that worried me..."
"What was it?"
"He said he was going back, that he was tired of all the s**t that happens here, and he's going back."
"How..?
"You and I should both know that answer, Harold."
"Right..."
"But don't worry...! He was drunk, it was all bullshit."
"Heh, yeah, you're right..."
"Yeah..."
Most of the time I just stared up through the water, hoping I could get just one last look at them.
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