UnBooks:Diaries of a disturbed senior lady
Sunday, 3rd March, 2013, 8:02am[edit | edit source]
Dear diary,
It is a beautiful Sunday morning. The birds are chirping, the dogs are barking and, oh, sorry, no that's Mabel doing the barking there. The roses in my garden looked a little wilted, so I watered them with some of my mouthwash. I've already played a vigorous game of backgammon with Luigi (I think he cheats though! Filthy Italians!), I've eaten my bowel-agreeing senior breakfast, which consisted of porridge and a bread held in water for over a week. I am tingling with sensation, since today will be a very special day for me; today is the first time in 40 years that I get to leave the complex! Forty years ago, I was locked up in this so called mental asylum, for - brace yourself - murder! I find it ridiculous, I couldn't imagine myself even killing a fly! Anyway: since when has setting fire to something been "murder"? What sort of stupid person would think "Yes, I'm going to stay here in this fire for a while?" I think it's an indictment of modern youth culture, lazy layabouts that they are. Anyway, even if I did set a church on fire they most likely deserved it, I guess. I'm sure I was of huge help, getting rid of the riff-raff and that dastardly modern decor the new church pastor is so fond of. I.. I really can't remember what was my reasoning back in the day - if I even did it, mind you.
But that's all in the past now. Due to my recent good behaviour I've been told that I may visit my friends and relatives today - but I'm not interested of being pampered by anyone anymore, I'm a responsible adult and I'm capable of having a friggin' walk outside by myself. So I have carefully planned my escape out of here, poor cabdriver will have no idea what'll struck him.. I'll be brushing my dentures soon and then I may leave this looney-farm forever behind me and reunite with my dear cat, Mrs. Tinkles again. No one has fed her for forty years! I'm sure she is dying to see me once again.
Sunday, 3rd March, 2013, 3:41 pm[edit | edit source]
Dear diary,
I'm sitting on a bench in front of a local church now. The cabride went nicely until I put my escape plan on motion and whacked the driver in the head with my walking stick. Being the sensitive young man he was he blacked out and the car crashed out of the road into a forest, which wasn't really that big of a deal since the driver had his wallet with him and the bus station was nearby. However, I did have few problems with finding the right bus to the city. And then I had few problems staying in the right bus to the city.
It seems that while I was locked away a lot has changed. The streets, the buildings, the culture, everything. Anywhere I'm looking at I see confusing communist propaganda and minority groups walking on the street scene. Gosh, this whole country has turned mad during the short period of time I was away. Everyone has turned insane and no one can be trusted. Even the bus driver attempted to short change me! Also, when I got on the bus there was this young man sitting down and would you believe; he had his bag on the empty seat next to him. The empty seat! No respect for anyone! Someone could have wanted to sit there - namely, me! This terrible crime against humanity could not go unpunished, so I pocked the kid in the ear with my walking stick and told him not to do something that awful... ever, ever again. Ireasonably continued beating him until he'd stop crying - what a wuss - but then, would you believe... the bus driver threw me out for "violent behaviour"! What on earth is going on here?
After trailing around the city and spitting on anyone who dared to walk within a metre-ratio from me for a hour I managed to find a good bench nearby a church. I had missed the mass held earlier this morning, but I am quite excited to hear of a special event that is to be held in the church next Friday night at 10 pm. I saw a poster on this one dark alley stating that Cannibal Corpse - which I assume is the name of a contemporary Christian Band - will be performing a secret show at the church for a "gathering of brothers and sisters of the commune of death & bloodpath". Funny way to express one's point, but then again death is a healthy way to remember what the good lord gave for us when he was nailed to the cross.
But all that has to wait for friday, I will first need to find a good place to sleep at. Sleeping over at my old house would be risky since
Monday, 4th March, 2013, 11:27 am[edit | edit source]
Dear diary,
I narrowly escaped with my life this morning. I awoke to find a sexually aroused young man standing over me. It was quite terrifying. I later found out that this man calls himself a pastor! All of his "innocent" pleas about "worrying I was dead" - what a showpony! He even dared to ask if he could "clean my dress of all that blood"! Regardless of whether his intentions were necrophilia or rape - I must keep my eye on that sexual deviant. This church is obviously in a sorry state.
Friday, 8th March, 2013, 7:14 pm[edit | edit source]
Dear diary,
I am all ready for tonight's Cannibal Corpse "gig" as they call it. I have found a seat in front of the venue and I have been quite surprised at the number of seemingly restless and low-life youths who have been gathering outside. This band had really been spreading the Christian message well, to reach so many of these troubled children of God. I already have almighty respect for them. It must be very difficult to live in such an oppressive society of ours.
Friday, 8th March, 2013, 10:05 pm[edit | edit source]
Dear diary,
I'm aware that those Cannibal Corpse-boys aren't showing up tonight. They should have started five minutes ago and I've seen nothing else than a crowd of bad-mouthed hooligans mutilating instruments on the stage. At first I thought that I was at the wrong church. I asked a nice boy who told me I was at the right place and then he collapsed in his own vomit. I realized that the band on the stage is at the wrong church! Probably Cannibal Corpse and this so-called "band" mixed up their so-called "gigs". It would make sense! This is although quite unfortunate for me, I really wanted to see Cannibal Corpse and not these drunken hobos.
However, it seems that the crowd has found the band they went to see. A bunch of badly acting kids with no sense of manners or fashion, just like the kids at the stage. I strongly recommend a hair-cut to all of the people here. And to try different colored clothes than just black. I think pink would suit these little belly-buttons just perfectly.
But there's something else on the crowd I wonder about - and here is the weirdest part - this crowd seems to LIKE this so-called "music" the so-called "band" is playing. It must be the Illuminati's work! I actually feel sorry for these children - they are so pumped up with drugs that they don't even realize they're listening to the wrong band. This place is making me feel really sick... the presence of freemasonry is making my head hurt... I have to get out here before this sends me insane.
Saturday, 9th March, 2013, 0:27 am[edit | edit source]
Dear diary,
I barely got out from that hellish place but here I am, outside the church, feeling a little woozy, with a bag of empty vodka bottles in my hand, while watching over a group of angry teens searching for their stolen liquors... My my, I bet their mothers wouldn't approve of their drinking alcohol. It was my duty to take them myself! My mother wouldn't approve of drinking either, but who cares?! I am an adult now! I can make my own decisions! You hear me mom?! Shut up! I hate you!
I started remembering all kinds of things from my past when I took that Purificative Drink once again. I now remember that fatal summer's night when I got locked up in the asylum. That night when we burned down a church, me and Mrs. Tinkles together. I was only 17, Tinkles was 24. Tinkles was the same lazy bum she still is, didn't move at all, just lay down and barely even talked. Now that I think of it, I was the only person she ever talked to. Her drinking was very uncontrolled, making her very anti-social... She was a true alcoholic. Well anyway, we both had drank a few bottles of booze and we were sitting on a bench outside a local church, when she got the idea of burning the priest working inside. So we snuck inside, knocked him on the head with a branch, lit a small fire on his robe and the wooden walls, and then run outside. Believe me, the sight of the burning church was way more beautiful than thousand sunsets...... The police arrived shortly and Tinkles pulled her stupid "I don't speak" trick again and I got locked for "seeing and hearing invisible cats". Poppycock!
But this isn't a time to be nostalgic, no, first we shall this church meet its warm end! And the kids! Oh yeah, those kids will have a lot of explaining to their mothers. I have my matches ready, and I probably have some dollars to go buy a bag of popcorn to enjoy while watching this heavenly event. And you nice Cannibal Corpse-guys, in case you ever read this, I am doing all this for you, and for your fame! I will destroy this old, absolutely beautiful wooden church, just to promote you sweetie-poos. Nothing boosts up a band's career better than a fan who kills a group of youths. I truly wish all the best for you! Have long, rich lives, get lots of catholic children, have good, christian-approved anal-sex, of course after marriage... and please, most importantly, spread the tragic story of Mrs. Tinkles!
