It's kind of funny. I thought all sorts of magic stuff would occur when he appeared, but now it just seems that instead of wasting our lives seperately we're wasting them together as we play video games and dream of revolutions and mobile armor suits and riches and adventures. It's definately fun though, and it dosnt feel as bad wasting time when you have someone else in on it.

Today we drank a bit, and Blake had an Irish coffee which got cold and thus undrinkable. I had some more peach champagne which got warm and thus undrinkable. I combined the two to make something we named the "Drinka drinka drinka" it was cloudy and looked kind of like it had fur, there were clear champagne spots interspersed in the cloud. I got a picture or two of it actually.

They call it... the drinka drinka drinka...

We were supposed to go into town but that didnt happen since we lacked a ride. I just sort of hung out and told Blake about this strange dream I had which I will detail below:

I was in some kind of large home, and it was run by angels. All they served was fish. I think I might have been an orphan but I'm not sure. Anyhow I discovered the angels were putting stuff in the fish to make us vicious killing machines so I ran into the Iraqi dessert. I was pretty worried since there was a war going on but then a personnel carrier appeared and a soldier hopped out. They were talking to the angels and the leader refused to send me back. It turned out he was Asmodeus (a demon, for those of you who do not know) and I said his name and somehow this represented me asking him for help, I suppose I was invoking him. And so he helped me get away. At what cost, I may never know, but whatever it was it's probably better than eating drugged up fish filets.

After that we talked of buying the house we're both in and making it into a decent place with ceilings and carpet and a real heating system and such. He said how we could live here without having to bother over rent or anything until we were eighty, and that we'd make the house kick ass and the yard would have to have grass so it dosnt turn to a bog. Some rednecks came by to look at a bike or tractor or truck or boat, all of which are present, and Blake talked to them to find out what they were after. He said in his grand way of explaining things in the simplest and truest of terms, that it was cool how at some times I was like his sidekick, depending on his proficiency in dealing with rednecks, and at other times he was my sidekick, which really made sense. I guess we compliment eachother in some way.

So for the day everything was great and the food is holding out. Now though it seems that Blake wont be here next tuesday, so this is the last week. The last time I'll see him for who knows how long. We're hoping to set off more fireworks and have another bonfire before he's gone, or maybe on the day he leaves. That would probably be fitting. I also need to get Chris to come down so I can run our D&D game.

Blake's room was largely in chaos from our constant gaming, as you can see here...

And so Blake tried to organize it by stacking everything in this massive fucking pyramid.

December 31st 1am

Blake leaves tomorrow, for god only knows how long. I might never see him again. I'm not worried about him coming back. Blake is eternal, and he's too good a person to die, and not much could kill him anyhow. But I could die. I'm sure I come close all the time. I had to ride my bike six miles to work today. On a hill my foot slipped and hit the pavement infront of the pedal. I'm lucky my ankle isn't broken and it just bruised my calf. But like I said, I'm mortal, and I might have to move, or die, or something.

Amidst all of this uncertainty Chris has not and likely will not appear.

I spent as much time as I could with Blake. My friends all seemed eager to talk to me online, and my book was just published, and of course there is the demon work. As soon as I managed to escape work my time was split. I'd watch some of a film with Blake and then run off with some lame excuse for five minutes, like an internet nerd disguised as Clark Kent or Peter Parker.

Blake and I made pacts so sacred that they appear to have no meaning, but I put stock in such things. Today, upon the reception of my book, and in the presence of my best friend, I drank up the kool-aid Jake gave me so very long ago. I am now on my way to something. And Blake was there for it, so I hope he'll be with me on that way when he can be.

But the pacts we made weren't about Kool aid. Blake had me promise to bury one of his broken Gundam action figures on a high pile of dirt Charlie heaped up for some reason, and he also gave me a box of Jujubes to save for when he returns. I aim to bury it. I suppose that pacts like this, of buried treasure and funerals for action figures, seem childish and without point. But for those enacting them, and those gifted enough to understand magic, they are the most sacred of all things. I guess maybe the not understanding just makes it even more powerful.

Later I helped Blake pack his stuff while I messed with my bow trying to fix it. He gave me some of his clothes and we watched a bit of Hidalgo. He wrote a few things for the site and we reviewed a bad movie. I recognized the nifty symbol he used to wear on his shirt on a scrap of fabric and asked him why he'd cut it out. His answer :The ferret crapped on the shirt. It was said with such a frankness that it made me burst into laughter.

Anyhow, I asked Blake to wake me when he gets up tomorrow so I can hang with him before work. I might go with him to the airport on Sunday, but most likely Saturday will be the last time I see him after I detonate the fireworks and the bonfire and such. I have a long day of work ahead of me, and my last full day with Blake. It feels so short, but then all of life does as well once you've lived it and died. I'm just glad nothing's dying.

January 1 2006, 2 am

I got home today after a remarkably painless day of work. Blake and Dianna were together so I didnt bother them and just set about making the bonfire with the fireworks around it. I soaked it and an arrow in cheep crap lighter fluid. I thought all lighter fluid was flammable, but clearly I thought wrong. I cannot stress enough how important it is that you buy Ronsonol lighter fluid. Anything else is just water that smells odd.

So after a bit I lit some of the fireworks and shot several burning arrows, all of which failed to ignite the lighter fluid soaked mass of cardboard. After a while Charlie dumped gasoline on it and then it went up. All the fireworks were consumed, except for one that went off when we least expected it, which was pretty cool. After that Blake and I bid eachother goodnight. I discovered the few surviving supplies left in my room for me as well as two cheeseburgers Blake had bought for me at Burger King, his old stomping ground.

The scorched earth marks the site of our bonfire.

Every party has an end... OES Part 5