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Aug. 17th, 2004 @ 02:45 pm [friends-only]
I've revised my estimation to somewhere in the neighbourhood of two thousand.
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Aug. 17th, 2004 @ 12:51 pm [private]
I can't believe this grogginess is a necessary side effect. She claims it'll only affect me for the first few weeks, but I can't possibly find that acceptable. What Tatsuha thinks of it I can't even begin to say. Luckily Shuichi is the oblivious type. With any luck, he and my brother will keep each other occupied and I won't have to deal with either of them.
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Aug. 16th, 2004 @ 12:54 pm [friends-only]
It seems there is yet another invasion force poised to spring upon my house within a day or so. I ought to invest in soundproofing for my office.
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Aug. 16th, 2004 @ 12:47 pm [private]
Tatsuha is as impulsive as he's always been. I'm still not certain how it came to pass that we, of all people, are brothers. The gods have an odd sense of humor.

Living with him is entirely different from living with Shuichi. It's as if he's taken over the living room, with all the cords and computer equipment and Nittle Grasper CDs and videos. I'm still not entirely certain why he's here--the part about getting away from Father is obvious, of course, but I suspect there may be more that he himself doesn't know. That's the thing about Tatsuha. If he doesn't know something about himself, he puts it aside and moves on for the moment. He doesn't consume himself with worry.

I wonder how long it will take for Mika to track him down. I'll have to arrange to be elsewhere when she shows up to drag him home.

Working has been blurring my memory lately. I sit down in the office, and five hours later I've got half a chapter in front of me that I don't remember writing. I don't remember any of it. It's like living half asleep. I hope to hell this isn't a side effect of the new medication. I can't work like this; if this is what it does, I'll have to stop taking it. Maybe I'll ask tomorrow, though I detest going back there again.

He'll be back here in a few days at most. They can't possibly keep him any longer. God only knows what will happen then. If he and Ta are both staying, I'm moving the hell out.
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Aug. 13th, 2004 @ 09:40 am [filter - chibiuesugi, blindgame_again, kyoto_beauty]
Someone please tell me how many innocent souls I tortured to death in a past life. There must have been scores. That is the only explanation for this indignity.

As if it weren't enough to be bombarded with pink boxes and barged in on uninvited at all hours of the night, I have now acquired a familial houseguest. Worse, I am vaguely obligated not only to let him stay but to set something approaching a good example for the impressionable youth.

My guess is around seven hundred. Bets, anyone?
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Aug. 11th, 2004 @ 04:53 pm New Book Progression Announcement [public]
I am pleased to announce that my newest book is midway towards completion. The title cannot be revealed at this time, but a speculative publication date of mid-November has just been announced. Further updates to follow as they become available.
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Aug. 10th, 2004 @ 11:07 am Prose - "Confessions of a Haunted Mind" [melodramatic but appropriate, I swear]

No answer.

"Uesugi-san. Come back to me."

The sound of a single handclap resounded in Eiri's mind and his eyes flew open. It took several moments for him to remember where he was. When he managed it, the first thought that flitted through his muddled brain was, God, I hate Tuesdays.

Though he hated to admit it, the sterile white of the office was a relief after regression. It was entirely unlike anything in his repressed memories, and it helped to reassure him that he was, in fact, living in the present. He'd heard that some shrinks preferred mood lighting and comfortable couch-beds for their patients. In his mind, an examination was an examination, whether of the mind or body. It was just as cold and clinical. Those who tried to disguise it were only fooling themselves.

The doctor waited patiently, as always, as he blinked to steady himself. The white of her coat blended with the white of the walls. He brushed a finger against the textured canvas of the hospital cot, grounding his thoughts in the present. It was a peculiar and tacky shade of turquoise. He tried to hide the fact that he found it comforting.

"Are you awake now?"

Her voice was soft and even, as always. He nodded slowly. "What happened?"

She turned to the table as she spoke, still making notes on her clipboard. "You were experiencing normal regression, but when we got to a certain point, you stopped responding."

"A certain point?"

Her smile was small, polite, and professional. "Don't worry too much about it. Focusing on things your mind doesn't want to face will make things worse."

Eiri's small sigh was the only sign of his frustration as he settled back onto the bed. "So what happens now?"

She spoke carefully, as if testing him. "I will write you your usual perscription and we will continue next week."

His heart skipped a beat. There was no way he could live with another week of this. "The perscription isn't working."

"These things take time, Uesugi-san. You switched perscriptions less than a month ago. Your body needs to become acclimated to the new dosage. If you would care more for your physical health, as we've discussed..."

Eiri cut in, sitting up to look at her. "No. It's not that. The sedatives work; they put me to sleep. Instantly. Nothing is the matter with that. But it isn't helping."

The doctor set her pen down on the clipboard, carefully and precisely, before raising her eyes to those of her patient. "Oh...?"

I see him everywhere. Even in his mind, it sounded crazy. How could he tell her? Saying it out loud would make it real. With great difficulty, he spoke. "I've been... experiencing things."

"Go on." Her voice was soft, neutral. He wondered how many of her years of training had been focused on perfecting that voice.

"Seeing things." He looked away when he said it. "Things that aren't there, that I know aren't there. Things that..." He was far enough now. Might as well seal his fate. "...are dead."

The room was silent for a moment as she allowed the realization fo what he'd said to sink into his own mind. It was a courtesy, he could tell, from the minute he spoke. She'd been expecting this for months.

"How often?"

He swallowed. "Once a week. Sometimes twice."

She picked up the pen and made one careful, precise note on her clipboard. She took her time, then put the pen down again and looked at him. "I will give you a new perscription."

He nodded, almost weak with relief. It didn't sound so bad, now, out in the open. Modern medicine was a wonder. With the right drugs, they could deal with anything. He gave his doctor a curt nod, the closest he'd managed to thanks, picking up his jacket as he headed for the door.


He stopped just before the threshhold.

"It would be wise if you did not miss any more appointments."

In her words, all of his assurances melted away. His nod this time was not of thanks, but of defeat.
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Aug. 3rd, 2004 @ 06:41 pm Prose - "'He sent what?!'"
Eiri was true to his word. After a marathon 39-hour writing session (he had, as usual, missed the actual deadline), he had collapsed on the couch and had been out ever since. He had a vague memory of stumbling into the bedroom at one point, and of one or two trips to the trusty lavatory, but other than that, the weekend had come and gone without the presence (or, at least, without the consciousness) of Japan's foremost romance novelist. It was mid-Tuesday when Eiri's well-deserved sleep was finally destroyed by none other than that cruel torture device, the doorbell. Whoever was there was quite persistent. Groaning, the writer finally managed to drag himself out of bed to go see what all the fuss was about.

Eiri's grumpy mind went through quite a few possible callers, categorizing them according to how much shit he'd have to put up with after their evisceration, but the person who was actually at the door was nothing like what he'd expected. The delivery boy looked up as the writer stepped out.

"Delivery for Shindou Shuichi-san. Is he in?"

Eiri blinked. What the...? "No. Of course not. He's at the--"

The boy cut in hastily. "Oh, that's all right, sir. Just sign here." Eiri blinked, baffled, but reluctantly signed his name in the appropriate spot. The delivery boy grinned and tucked the clipboard under his arm, then gave a piercing whistle. "All right, boys! Move it in!"

Before he could properly register the situation, Eiri found himself living a nightmare. Packages! Packages! Everywhere! His head was spinning. From the smallest to the largest, they seemed to come in all shapes and sizes, and every last one of them was brightly and garishly decorated. In shock and horror, Eiri pulled the original delivery man aside. "Who sent all these here?" he managed to splutter. The boy checked his pad.

"Ah... a Seguchi-san, sir. Care of NG Productions. Have a nice day!" The kid tipped his hat and trotted out of the room, with the rest of his crew following behind. Eiri was left with a look of shock, a packing slip, and a pile of presents that quite literally approached the ceiling. The look quickly evaporated and became one of indignation. For once in his life, Eiri picked up the phone and made a call.
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Jul. 29th, 2004 @ 03:01 pm Work [friends-only]
Deadline tomorrow. Not done. Might not be. Why I do this to myself I'll never know.

When this is over, I'm going to sleep all damn weekend.
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Jul. 28th, 2004 @ 10:54 am "A product of inspiration" [Prose]
Eiri was pleased in spite of himself. There it was, clean and sleek on the desk before him: the disk containing his latest chapter, finished less than an hour ago. He still didn't quite believe it. Only one more to go by Friday... could this be the least pressure I've ever been under? Of course, he was stolidly ignoring the fact that a single chapter was still, by rights, a fortnight's work. He hadn't even begun thinking about this one yet.

As he pushed back in his chair, Eiri reflected on the previous night's events. Shuichi. Seguchi. Nakano. That was more people than he usually saw in a week, let alone a single night. Could that be why I finished so quickly...? He grudgingly considered the possibility. It could be, he admitted at last. Maybe. Of course, not sleeping could also have something to do with it. For once, though, Eiri wasn't tired.

Maybe I'll go out. The thought was quick and decisive and uncharacteristic of the writer, but it occurred nevertheless. No sooner had he thought it than he was standing up, heading for his jacket, his keys, and the door. The computer was left running on his desk--with no concerns about his utility budget, Eiri was in the habit of leaving it on all the time. In the twenty minutes before the screen shut off to conserve power, the final line of the famous novelist's latest chapter glowed quietly to itself:

"He glanced at the fading stains, then looked away, his eyes the colour of an anonymous skyline."
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