Day 031: Hashtag Truth
Summary: In which Phillip Oscar Wylde, Jr. finally figures it out.
Date: 28/06/2016
Related: None
Lip 


Jun 28, 2149 — Mount Weather


Piss off.

Yeah, I didn't think that would work. I don't even really know why I wrote it. See, here's the thing. You've been there for me for the past couple days, Journal McInkdry, and yet I have to actually make myself write in you. I think it probably has a lot to do with the fact that I'm lazy. Or maybe it has more to do with the fact that I just don't want to actively realize and express the Dropship of emotions that I tend to be on when I'm writing. It's never a fun ride for me and I always end up in a worse place than when I started.

What I'm saying is that this sucks for me. A lot. Kind of like the situation that I'm in right now. Confused? Well, if this were a young adult digi-show, this would be an an epic voiceover and right at this moment we'd be fading into an epic flashback sequence…

Yeah, I wish.

So here's the latest shufflebutt. First of all, I gotta' find out why the hell they call it shufflebutt. That's weird. Even for me. So, apparently, everyone we've ever known or seen or whatever is dead. Which kind of sucks because I was almost looking forward to seeing all the people that hate me again. That means that the handful of friends that I had are dead. That means that Fiona is dead. Martin. Stone. Nata—

Oh fuck. Natalie.

These are the people that actually meant something to me. Which is weird because I don't mean anything to anyone so just even having people mean something to me is fucking with my whole deal, y'know? Like I don't even know how I'm supposed to feel about this. Am I supposed to feel like I survived an ordeal of great and terrible significance? Am I supposed to take solace in the fact that I'm inside of this sprawling Mountain Mansion with water and cake and really hot girls that see right through me? Am I supposed to feel anything? Am I supposed to be anything? Am I supposed to do anything?

Fuck if I know. I'm just a kid. A scared kid. A kid that couldn't even get killed right. Do you know that if I had it all to do over again? When the fuckin' Groundhogs came over that wall? I would've been the first motherfucker there. I would've been standing there with my bullshit spear and my sly smirk and I would've said some slick shit like: 'Welcome to the Sky, motherfucker.' Or or… no. I got it: 'Yippie-Sky-Yay, motherfucker' and then I would've just like did a massive swan dive into the middle of those fucks and… and… land chest first on a spear and been dead within ten seconds. Why? Because that's who I am. Because that's what I do.

I fuck up.

So now? Now that some of us are imprisoned guests in this Mountain Mansion, I realize that maybe sometimes things don't work out the way they are supposed to. Maybe the universe doesn't quite understand that I'm the one that's supposed to die. I'm the one that's not supposed to make it. I'm the idiot. The class clown. The stupid kid that gets slaughtered at the first sign of danger because I don't know what the fuck I'm doing down here in the first place.

It wasn't supposed to be anyone else. Nobody else was supposed to die.

Just me. Just Lip.

And now I gotta' figure out how to make all of that right. And that's gonna' suck. Because I'm scared I'm not gonna' be able to make it right. To do anything. To fix anything. And I'm all alone. Even surrounded by people so much more capable and amazing and just fuckin' badass than me? I'm fuckin' alone.

… I want my Mom.

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