{Wonderful} Gia Alpert's Journal

[Gia Alpert]

WONDERFUL

Gia Alpert[/center][/size]

Wonderful -- Everclear

Isn't life wonderful?

That's the first line of that song, a song that seems to fit my life so perfectly in most respects, and it couldn't be more wrong. Unless, of course, the question is sarcastic, in which case, it is entirely right.

There I go, again, over thinking. Note to self: stop that!

I close my eyes when I get too sad
I think thoughts that I know are bad
Close my eyes and I count to ten
Hope its over when I open them

Bad thoughts. To be honest, there's a lot of those. My parents, both real and adoptive, Nell, Henry. Henry is always lurking the back of my mind. It makes me sick thinking of him, of what I did. It was an accident, I think. Well, I tell myself that but...really, I was happy. I was so fucking happy when he died. I mean, it scared me, what I did scared me beyond belief, but he deserved to die and his death made me happy. It was pure, sweet, blissful, wonderful release.

When I think of that day, counting to ten works...sometimes. Sometimes, the counting and deep breathing works. Those times it doesn't work, I have to find some place to be alone so people won't see me hyperventalating and crying. It's embarrassing. As if being the new kid at some big time private school isn't bad enough, I don't need people knowing all my dirty little secrets. I don't need my personal life blasted all over this Gossip Girl thing.

I want the things that I had before
Like a Star Wars poster on my bedroom door
I wish I could count to ten
Make everything be wonderful again

I do want the things I had before, so badly. Not that I can tell anyone that, and not that it matters what I want because it's impossible to go back. My family hates me. No, that's not the right word. No, they're terrified of me. I don't even have a family anymore! My real parents didn't want me, and I scared away my adoptive parents. Nice work, Gia old girl. If only I had the power to turn back time instead of freezing it, that would help me so much.

Hope my mom and I hope my dad
Will figure out why they get so mad
Hear them scream, I hear them fight
They say bad words that make me wanna cry

Part of the song that sorta fits me.

Mom and Dad did fight a lot after the Henry incident. Well, not directly after it. It was after I confessed that I was the reason Henry died that the fighting started. They blamed each other for me, both claiming that they didn't want me and that it was the other that did, that it was all the others fault, that I was a freak. The things they said, about each other and about me, it didn't make me want to cry -- it made me cry.

I cried so much in the months before I moved from San-Fran to NYC. I remember crying to my lawyer when I filed for emancipation, when I explained to him why I had to have it done and legal and out of the way, with as little details as possible. It was simple enough, I just strung together a bunch of lies and Mom and Dad were happy to go along with them, since it meant getting rid of me.

Close my eyes when I go to bed
And I dream of angels who make me smile
I feel better when I hear them say
Everything will be wonderful someday

There are no angels, just an angel. The angel who makes me smile...

...Um, more on him later. That might be a little too personal, even for a journal. Not because of anything dirty or anything like that, but because I'm not sure what he is. For all I know, he really could be an angel. And would that be so strange? After all, I'm a witch and, according to popular culture, witches aren't real and yet, here I am.

Note to self: Stop rambling and, again, stop over-thinking!

Promises mean everything when youre little
And the worlds so big
I just dont understand how
You can smile with all those tears in your eyes
Tell me everything is wonderful now
Please dont tell me everything is wonderful now

Simple rule of life: Don't make promises you can't keep. Doing that, just makes you look stupid and selfish and, more often than not, like a complete and total douchebag. Being the kind of person that doesn't keep their promises, makes you black-hearted. On the bright side, karmically speaking, those people will get what they deserve. Ah, karma, the universal justice system that never fails.

Anyway, what confuses me more than anything is me. We all claim that only we truly know ourselves, but I truly don't understand myself. I don't understand how I can go out everyday and smile, like nothing is wrong, and tell people that I'm fine, that every is just wonderful. Putting on this show for the benefit of total strangers, and for the reassurance that my mind won't implode unto itself, it's hard, it's exhausting, and it's messy.

There's always those nagging questions: what is someone finds out the truth? What if someone finds out that not only am I an adoption case but that my "rich parents" that sent me to the Academy basically disowned me? What if everyone finds out that I live on my own, supporting myself, barely making rent by working -- a concept that seems to be unheard of with most trustfund babies -- as a research assistant at the public library?

I go to school and I run and play
I tell the kids that its all okay
I laugh aloud so my friends wont know
When the bell rings I just dont wanna go home

There's no running or playing at the Academy, unless you count the kind of playing that goes on in the legendary Boiler Room. And I don't have any friends, not yet anyway, but the smiling and laughing aloud thing? Yeah, that's me all over. I do put up that brave-front-thing because I don't want to go home. I don't want to go back to my dinky little apartment and be all alone. Diego doesn't really count, as he's the kind of company that sheds everywhere and doesn't talk.

Okay, I'll admit, being alone isn’t as bad as everyone seems to think it is. Sure, I worry, probably like everyone else in the world, that I'll die alone. But I'm alive right now and while I hate being on my own all the time, I still really enjoy it. At least when I'm alone I have enough peace to study! There is so much information in the world, so many subjects, and I want to learn as much as I can about all of them!

And that takes quiet. Whether at home or at the library, where quiet is a sanctimonious rule never to be broken, quiet is a precious thing to me. And it's so hard to find! Sometimes, when I'm at work, just for the hell of it, I'll pretend to be deaf so I won’t be bothered with stupid questions. After all, I can't freeze people every time they get on my nerves. That's a fast way to exhaust myself, and then my powers probably won't work when I need them.

My boss, Marjory, has scolded me many times. She'd say that pretending to be handicapped is “a disrespectful and horrible thing to do”. But I know she finds it amusing. Marjory, robust woman that she is, can’t stay quiet for very long. She's always talking loudly, telling stories, and her laugh is more like a deep howl. If I'm brutally honest with myself, Marjory is really my only friend. The older woman often calls me at night to chit-chat, to lecture me about going to college, to follow my dreams, to invite me to go to the movies, to eat lunch with her, and she's even tried to set me up on dates!

Getting to the point: Yes, Marjory is a good friend, but just how much longer can I last before dropping her down the preverbal mineshaft?

Go to my room and I close my eyes
I make believe that I have a new life
I dont believe you when you say
Everything will be wonderful someday

Okay, this is getting a little annoying. As much as I love this song -- for Gaia's sake, I'm naming my journal after it! -- this entry is getting a bit long so I'll summarize the rest.

I don't want to hear people tell me, especially people that don't know me, that I'll understand someday why things happened to me the way they happened. I don't think I'll ever understand or want to understand why both sets of my parents didn't want me. I'll never understand what's happening to me, why I'm a witch, what it all means. I'd have to find my real parents to understand that, and I'm not sure I want to do that.

More than anything, I just want my life to go back to the way it was. I want things to be just like they used to be, with loving parents, a normal school, with normal people, and just be normal. No drama, no complications, no worrying that I'm going to freeze something randomly and getting caught. Just...normal!

Some days I hate everything
I hate everything
Everyone and everything
Please dont tell me everything is wonderful now...

Living with the powers I have, never knowing if tomorrow will be the day I final explode and destroy everything in one massive quake, is bittersweet. I hope I don't lose control but, at the same time, it would be so wonderful to watch all the insignificant nobodies get what they deserve: going back into the earth that bore them.

~Gia

[Gia Alpert]

I thought I'd put some pictures in here. After all, putting pictures in a journal is a lot more prudent than carrying them around in my sketch book. I mean, certain pictures are okay to be seen but others...well, there are just certain things that I have bad reactions to and I don't like putting that on display for everyone.


This is Boreas! He's my Akita Inu, and my roommate. I know what you're thinking (if journals think, that is): what the hell does Boreas mean? Well, in the Wiccan practice, every element has a corner and, as Earth, mine is the North corner. According to Greek mythology, a huge fascination of mine, the God of the North Wind is Boreas. So...yeah, I still need to work on my thinking too much, but whatever. I just call him B for short, unless he's been a bad boy then, like most parents do to their children, he gets his full name.


These are two pictures that make me want to cry. On the left is my father, Nathaniel Alpert. Dad's a lawyer for some big time firm, and he's one hell of a lawyer! Although, I have to admit, some of his cases were...well, let's just say that it's obvious that my father is a sexist, homophobic, small-minded, egotistical, hypocritical bigot.

On the right is my mother, Demi Dodd-Alpert. Mom is a nurse at San Francisco General Hospital. Mom's actually the head nurse, the manager or whatever, for the whole of the ER. Mom is...well, she's not as bad as Dad. She never used to be, anyway, but she became a major bitch after the Henry incident.


This is yet another button pusher: Eleanor "Nell" Dodd, my cousin. Nell is the worst human being on the planet! Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but she's definitely the worst in San Francisco! She's five years older so, when I was seven, she was twelve. That's just about worlds apart.

It was during these great years of my childhood that Nell transformed me. She always thought she was the boss of me. I remember a lot of horrible tricks she played on me. Example? I she would lock her in the basement with the lights off when they "played" hide and seek. I was a much happier child in the orphange than I was adopted because of her!


Last but not least -- not least at all -- this is probably the most important person in my life. And I don't even know his name! How crazy is that?

This is my angel. I don't have an actual picture, so I've drawing him from memory. He's...I don't know what he is, or where he came from. I'm just so happy that he's in my life. The first time I met him, he appeared out of nowhere. It was my first day in the city and he pulled me back onto the sidewalk just before I would've been hit by a cab. He asked me if I was okay and I only had a chance to answer before he was gone.

Sometimes I dream about him, and those are the bests night of my life. Those are the nights I actually sleep all the way through and feel ten times better when I wake up. I really hope I can meet him in person again, see him for longer than a glimpse before he disappears, but I don't know if that'll ever happen.

Well, I guess that's all for now.

~Gia

{RPer's Note: I did not do the drawing above; that belongs to punkkitten7x2 on DeviantArt. Also, these two below are who I imagine as Gia's real parents.}

[Gia Alpert]

MY SKIN

My Skin -- Natalie Merchant[/center]

{The vid that inspired this entry}


Take a look at my body, look at my hands
There's so much here that I don't understand
Your face saving promises, whispered like prayers
And I don't need them

Sometimes I'll look at my hands I think I can still see the blood. Henry's blood. He had it coming, he really did. He was such a stupid arrogant bastard. Children tease and pick on their peers, yes, but he was cruel. He got was he deserved. Do I wish there had been another way? Yes. Do I regret it? No and yes. But mostly no.

Some days I want to just throw in the towel fall off the face of the earth. Majory always tells me that I'll get through everything fine, but, really, it always feels like she's lying through her teeth. She is a sweet woman, and I believe she means well, but I'm never sure if I can believe what she says. I don't need lies right now, not at this point in my life.

Maybe that's why Robbie and I get along so well, there's no bullshit.

'Cause I've been treated so wrong
I've been treated so long
As if I'm becoming untouchable...
Well, contempt loves the silence, it thrives in the dark,
The fine winding tendrils that strangle the heart
They say that promises sweeten the blow
But I don't need them -- no, I don't need them

This city, this school, it's all so new and confusing. I feel like I'm lost every single day, like I'm invisble. Being invisible almost would've been easier than what I'm going through now. Robbie and Leon. Actually it's more like Robbie vs. Leon. It's weird, being stuck in the middle of two guys. Back in California, guys never even noticed me, just looked through me.

It would be amazing if I dated one of them! It really would, but...there's always going to be the fact that they are just human and I'm a witch. I barely know Leon so I don't know if he could handle it at all, but Robbie? With all the stress going on his life, I don't think he'd be able to handle it at all, much less understand it. Both are amazing, but love just doesn't seem like a feasible option for me when it comes to normal humans.

I've been treated so wrong, I've been treated so long
As if I'm becoming untouchable
I'm a slow dying flower in the frost killing hour
Sweet turning sour and untouchable
Oh, I need the darkness,
The sweetness,
The sadness,
The weakness,
Oh, I need this
Need a lullabye,
A kiss goodnight,
Angel, sweet love of my life
Oh, I need this

The angel...perhaps it's time I talk...erm, write about him?

There's something about him, even just thinking about him, that calms the madness inside of me. I can't explain it. Sometimes I'll be in class and I'll be bored, I'll look out the window and there he'll be. Or maybe I'm imagining him there because, a second later, just as my breath catches in my throat, I'll blink and he'll be gone.

In all honesty, I don't know what he is. I've never heard him speak and I long to. More than touching him, I want to hear his voice and know that I am not insane. I need that so badly! And I need him. Yes, I care for Robbie and Leon, both in very different ways, but my angel, or whatever he is, I think I love him more than anything else in this world.

And scares and excites me at the same time.

I'm a slow dying flower, frost killing hour
The sweet turning sour and untouchable
Do you remember the way that you touched me before?
All the trembling sweetness I loved and adored
Your face saving promises, whispered like prayers
I don't need them

I wish I could write or call my parents and ask them that very question, although worded slightly different. I mean, I'm here, in the Big Bad Apple and I'm making it on my own but, still, I can't help but wonder if they think about me at all. Probably not. I mean, hell, they didn't speak a word to be for the four years when I still lived with them! They even made a spectacular effort to avoid me at all costs!

I hate them. I love them, I do, but I hate them so much more. They taught me to be honest, to always tell the truth. When it happened, I told them the truth and what did they do?! They shut me out! They tried to hide it from, whisper their fights until their voices were hoarse behind closed doors, but I heard everything! They say they didn't love me anymore, that I was a mistake, that I'm a freak, that they wish I was dead!

Oh, I need the darkness,
The sweetness,
The sadness,
The weakness,
Oh, I need this
Need a lullabye,
A kiss goodnight,
Angel, sweet love of my life
Oh, I need this

...The apartment just shook...

Boreas is hiding under my bed and whining. I haven't been able to manifest an earthquake since Henry. He was a button pusher, he made me realized what I am. I guess dear old Dad and Mom are buttons now, too.

I need to calm down. If I don't, if my ability to create earthquakes is really back, I might just destroy my apartment. Or the city, whichever. And would that be so bad? This city is rotting. Slowly but surely, it is rotting and withering away. This place swallows people alive, spits them back out, and they are never the same afterwards. It changes people, makes or breaks them. Would it really be so bad if it just cracked and sank into the ocean?

Well, is it dark enough?
Can you see me?
Do you want me?
Can you reach me?
Or I'm leaving
You better shut your mouth
And hold your breath
You kiss me now
You catch your death
Oh, I mean this

Perhaps this is too personal for a journal but, well, I've already confessed that I'm a witch so what's the worst that this could do to me? The first time my healing power activated, I just revived a bush of dead roses in Mother's garden. It was amazing and beautiful but...the second time? Well, the second time, I ended up in the morgue. My parents never knew, no one did. I woke up on the examination table, naked, while the mortition was out of the room. Luckily, I was able to dress and get out of there before the doctor ever found out.

It was nothing. Maybe. I think. Okay! I don't know, and that scares me! That and, sometimes, I think saving that man was the biggest mistake of my life. He was a total stranger! For all I know, I could've saved a rapist, a murderer, anything and I saved him -- I died saving him!

...I should've just walked away, left him to die. It would've made things so much easier, less complicated. Thinking that, being that...dark, it feels like nothing. In fact, it feels very easy to think that way.

Let's face it, I'm a walking time bomb.

Oh, I mean this...

~Gia