(no subject)

myspace.com/effymurray
rough recordings, not rough recordings, no matter what pops up, please check it out. Covers, original material, anything that's there. If it sounds shit, if it sounds good- it's me. No mixing, no overdubs, no crap. Anything to get it out there, please spread the word. I (and by I, me, etc I mean Effy) want to be heard!


Be kind to me, or treat me mean
I'll make the most of it, I'm an extraordinary machine



fo
credit for this wonderful banner goes to the awesome jettakd. Thanks bb!

best tracker

just found this...

Chaz stared at the hospital ceiling, trying to hold back the desire to count the tiny dots or the "beeps" in the background. Instead he concentrated on breathing. It was a good thing to concentrate on, Corey told him. Well, Joel told him that, too, but since Corey was his therapist, he listened to him more. That was probably a bad thought process. Very bad indeed. Joel was a good psychiatrist, he made a lot of money. And he loved Joel. So much it hurt. So much that he refused to see him, now that he'd lost their new baby. Because he knew it was his fault. Joel had been trying desperately to get him to eat, and he had been trying to. But not hard enough.

He knew it was his fault the baby died. He was starving himself to death, and this was the first sign. He'd felt like he'd eaten a lot, but logically...well. He knew it wasn't. He should have listened to Joel. He was at one of the lower weights he'd been at in years. A fact pointed out in many discussions. Many angry discussions.
They never talked about weight. Not usually. Normally it was a subject Joel knew not to bring up.


Joel hadn't even come to the hospital to see him yet.






That was the part that hurt the most. The baby was already dead. The weight was already gone. But Joel...he had talked about forbidden subjects. And talked. And talked. And now he wasn't there to talk anymore. Where was he?


Chaz stared at the ceiling, trying not to count the dots. Concentrate on breathing. It's the right thing to...



"You've gained two pounds since you've been here" He turned. A familiar dark head of hair, green eyes, mouth pressed into a frustrated line. Joel. He was here.




Keep breathing. Keep breathing.


"They've been tubing me." Chaz said shortly.

"Good." Joel was going to be stubborn. Chaz expected this.

"I missed you." Chaz wasn't going to be stubborn.

There was silence. One of the more painful silences of their relationship. Chaz knew this hurt Joel, but he also knew Joel had every idea how much pain Chaz himself was in. It was always Chaz that wanted the children. Joel just went along for the ride, he was always the more "masculine" one, the "traditional" one, the one raised in the human world to be a "man". Chaz had taken easily to his role in their new world, both man and woman, neither man nor woman, superior to both. When they'd had Vivienne, Joel had marveled at him. So he had to know how badly it hurt Chaz to lose a baby. He had to.

"Alex." Joel spoke softly. "I'm not angry."
That was a shock. Chaz lifted his head.

"But you've left me here..."

"I was wrong. But I'm not angry. I am...frustrated. I want you to get help again, though."

Chaz held his breath and looked back up at the ceiling.

"Breathe, Alex. Alex! Breathe with me- in...out...in...good. There's a place nearby that will do outpatient with you. I've talked to them already."

"No inpatient?"

"Not yet." Joel gave him a stern look.

Chaz sighed. "Do I have a choice?"

"You always have a choice."

Chaz looked up again. The holes in the ceiling looked bigger. one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight...

just keep breathing.




hmmm. I miss my boys, I think I'll write more. they've disappeared lately, I think they're hiding from my fucked up-ness. maybe they'll come out of their reclusive lifestyle once I'm back in VA.

cutting

because I am only a pawn. My feelings, my life, do not matter as much as theirs. My regrets, my pain, is nothing.

I am...

...I'm nothing.

Writer's Block: Friday the 13th

Do you believe in any superstitions?


too many, but not any at the same time? I mean black cats, no. Walking under a ladder, no. But mirrors in the bedroom and open doors and stuff, is that counted? Or does that just fall under feng shui/ paranoia?

Regardless I can't have mirrors facing outward in the bedroom, though I just realized my music box that's open and has been has one- eek. And all doors have to be closed. Closets, doors to other rooms, everything.

idk it counts to me anyways.

(no subject)

I just bought something my parents would yell at me for. But it's something I wanted and something that I would have wanted for ages. It's superficial and stupid but you know what? It's my money, and I did it for myself.

I'm sick of using my money for things I'm expected to use it for. And obviously I'm sick of bills/paying for gas/ etc but that isn't avoidable. So I used 30 bucks of my money for something unpredictable, something I wanted, do want, will want, and something that isn't necessary.


I guess this is what they call a "splurge"?

Whatever. I feel good about it.