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unstable_humor
17 January 2008 @ 08:07 pm
No CSI: NY because of Comanche Moon.
It's like CBS purpously planned this...
Excite me with a new episode then when next weeks rolls around.
DENIED.

Those bitches.
 
 
 
Current Mood: annoyedannoyed
 
 
unstable_humor
01 June 2007 @ 02:13 am
Sam Winchester's Journal
Entry #2


I haven’t written much lately. Circumstances, well they’ve become too out of hand to have time to sit down and jot notes.

I’m supposed to be getting rest. “A break, that’s the least we deserve” according to Dean who found no trouble getting to sleep. He’s passed out. Few hours into Miller Time and a X-Files marathon; the dude’s toast. Well, course this is after the discussion as to why Scully really is a skeptic, and Mulder, well Mulder is a “fuckin’ saint.”

He’s not even acting different. I don’t know if that should scare me or not. He’s got one year and he acts like it hasn’t even crossed his mind. Hasn’t even phased him. Then again Dean’s always been the type to masquerade behind a fake smile, hell he learned that trade from the best. It’s frustrating. Every time I hint towards something even remotely about the deal, he immediately backs me off. I get it, he wants to enjoy a few day’s rest. If that’s what he wants to call it. I’m not at rest, I can’t sit here much longer. Sit here and watch. Not with what it will cost me.

Maybe that’s selfish of me. Pushing him into another hunt so quickly after what we faced. What we finally accomplished. For Mom and Dad. But I can’t believe he’s come to terms with his deal, I have to believe he wants out of it just as badly as I need him to be.

Bobby called. Had some news for us as well as a few necessities. I told Dean to go himself. Clearly, he was against leaving me alone, but he knows why. He knows how it hurts… how you seem to be digging their grave a little bit deeper every time you take in a breath. I’m not strong like him, I can’t hide it much longer. This is killing me.

While he was away, I went down to the local church. I don’t know why I felt compelled exactly. I mean I’m not very religious. Everything I know, Pastor Jim taught me. I guess I thought maybe if I left the hotel room… he’d hear me.

Sat there for an hour. Praying.

Even with Dean’s run in few months back I doubt he’s closer to wanting to believe. Now? Well, God’s not giving the best track record. I need this, I need to find a way to save Dean. Because if I can’t save my brother… If we don’t get out of this one…




I think if you truly exist…
You quit listening a long time ago.
 
 
Current Mood: tiredtired
 
 
unstable_humor
07 October 2006 @ 01:20 pm
Sam Winchester's Journal
Entry #1


Dean’s outside in the yard. Still at the Impala’s resurrection. I go out there from time to time, ask him if he wants a hand, and I get the same response of no. It’s more then just a simple rebuild for Dean, I know. Him and Dad rebuilt it the first time, now he’s just trying to put it back. All the pieces.

Last time I was out there I saw the added damage to the trunk. Gaping holes in the Impala’s body, glass from a neighboring scraped car shattered all over the ground. He took something to it. Whether it be in rage or grief I’ll never know. I quit asking how he was. Dean still gives me that look of "quit always checking up on me” every time I make my rounds out there.

He stopped me before I came back in. Brought up the conversation we had walking from that run down van he hated so much. Apologized for it. He shouldn’t have. He was right, last time I ever spoke to the man I picked a fight and waiting until now to finally start doing what he would have wanted isn’t right. Even with my own realization, he still seems to hold it over me. I don’t think he knows it but he speaks like the man wasn’t my father. Dean makes it seem, like I lost out that privilege of calling him Dad when I walked out.

Maybe I did.


We spent a whole year looking for you. Only to finally find you and lose you again. This time no search will bring you back… you’re not avoiding us anymore. No mysterious texts, or phone calls. You’re gone.

And I never got to tell you I’m sorry…

I’m sorry for not being a son.
For leaving you and Dean.
For not believing in you.

But most of all, I wish I could have had the chance to tell you.
I never blamed you.
 
 
Current Mood: melancholymelancholy