*Differently to her last log, as she switches it on the video feed is back and active, the camera is showing a huddled Elena who is currently sitting on the couch in her apartment on Glendalough, having her shoulders sloping dauntedly. What would immediately leap to the eye is the half-empty bottle of Vodka sitting right beside her. Somewhere in the room the obnoxious noise of a vacuum cleaner can be heard, together with casual bashes as in the background a certain KSR bangs against a nearby wall. With a vacant stare does she look into the camera, showing a blank and expressionless face while beginning to fidget around with the Vodka bottle. After some brief consideration, she takes a larger swig of alcohol, with some of the liquid dripping down her chin, and wipes down her mouth with the sleeve of her pullover. Another oblong stare later, she sighs, looking away while starting to speak. Her voice - a croaking one, with noticeable trembling every now and then.*
Back to normal again, I guess. *Already after the first sentence does she begin to cough, pouring more Vodka into her throat immediately after.* It didn't took much time to configurate your systems back to recording mode. *She waves her hand in an overly demotivated manner.* Heeeey there, nice to see me again, right? Well, don't mind my unkempt hair or my face that, uh, looks like a thug has used it as target practise. Maybe I should've spared you that sight, ye, but then again, we gotta be honest with each other right? Means I'm gonna be honest with you how messed up I actually look like right now. Like, constant bad hair days, all the way through, can you imagine that? Oh right, you got no hair, how ignorant from me to forget that. Never mind then! If you're thinking right now "Uuuh, Elena, what are you about to do? You're gonna talk about that again?", here's my answer: Yup. But I swear this time I stand through this! You see, I got my best bud assembled this time. *She holds the bottle into the camera.* Vodka, oh sweet Vodka, how could I have ever lived without you I wonder. Just realized how much I've actually missed its taste. It's rough, the way I like it. A rough liquid for rough times, eh...? Cheers on that ingenious slogan!
*She begins to lead the bottle to her mouth, pouring more Vodka into her mouth and gulping it down. As if it had already become some sort of ritual, she sighs easedly, putting the bottle back on the couch, beside her.*
I got no idea what this fuc.king doctor was on about, talking about "painkillers" and all that sh.it. -This- is real pain killer, I tell you! And the good thing is, I still don't get that easily drunk as you might think, meaning I can drink even more of that stuff to get rid of any sort of pain. I can still think straight - heh, or at least I -think- that I can, but that doesn't matter much to me anyways. The less I can think, the better, right? Seriously, sometimes I believe it would just be better when I thought less, 'cause my thoughts tend to circlejerk around my concerns again ... and again ... and again. Alcohol breaks that circle quite effectively. I mean, sure I still know about all the crap that's been happening lately: the ... eh ... eh, ah screw it, I ain't gonna call it by its name, you know it anyways. Just saying those words out loud is kinda shi.tty, and believe me it is hard to say them in the first place, but damn it hurts. It's hurting less with Vodka, yeah, but that doesn't stop the aches. At least the alcohol is preventing me from breaking out in tears... oh boy, I swear without the alcohol I would have shut off the log already by now, succumbing in such sweet teardrops.
To get something out of the way. I -hate- crying. I really do. It's just something you can't control, and it usually hits the fence the moment you need it the very least. That's how it's for me, at least. And thus, the Vodka.
*For a moment, she lowers her head, staring down at the ground, then back at her Vodka bottle which she leaves untouched for now though. Another deep exhale can be heard as she turns her attention to the camera.*
I thought, I hoped it would get better when I just get out of that bloody hospital, but truth to be told, no it ain't getting better. Though to be honest, this week of being a captive of the doctor's -was- a hell damn ugly experience. I sat there, left alone by everybody and everything, only with myself as company - and man, I hate myself as company. That's ironic, isn't it? I wanna be the company of other people, but I can't stand myself as company myself. All alone I was... *She makes a sweeping gesture.* ... with my lil' demons on my shoulders. And my own mind driving circlejerks, how is that? I swear, sometimes I could've even heard those pesky little things on my shoulder tell me stuff. They blamed me, shouted at me, even fuc.king laughed at me. I don't know if that's something I should be worried about, that something is not right with my psyche and that blah blah. I know my psyche better than most, and damn, I can tell you it's wrong from the bottom. Point is, this motherfuc.ker of boyfriend I got myself there left me alone, the whole damn week, for me to brood over that crap all on my own. Then again, I tried to look into his eyes yesterday, and man they were judging as hell. They were judging me. And I felt so naked, standing in front of him, as he told me exactly what I am. Egocentric, bit.chy, irresponsible, egoistical, all that. All because he's the 'oh-so-broken' man now, or at least he's acting like that, god dammit I don't know and I don't care. He got no freaking idea of what I'm feeling, or what I'd be supposed to be feeling when I'm not drunk. I've been trying to be drunk the whole day, to be honest, to not get these feelings touch me. I don't want that anymore. They are nagging me, even when I can suppress them, when I partially manage to avoid and ignore them, they are always there. Tickling me, reminding me of their goddamn presence as if I didn't know. And every now and then, the dam breaks apart, and swoooops, you got a crying mess in front of you. Yep, me.
I couldn't tell anybody else about that crap so far. I had more than one opportunity to do so, but I just couldn't. When I'm being around the people I know, you see, it feels like a dream, I ain't gettin' reminded of what happened and so I can rather easily just forget about it. It's as if I wanted to keep that dream, 'cause I know the second I tell them what I've lost and especially how I've lost hit, I know they are gonna hate me just as much as John is hating me right now. I wished that was still reality what I am leading them to believe. I ... I just. *She stops for a second, then almost shouts.* I just want my baby back! Please, God, is that asked too much?!
*She lowers her head yet again, this time for a longer period of time. Her facial play is hard to examine, but from the sounds she is making - occasional sniffs - it appears she is trying to suppress tears. After having washed some of them away with her sleeves, she looks back at the camera, having regained her composure impressively fast. Just to be 100% sure she pours more Vodka into her.*
Sorry. Fact is, everybody would hate me. Kiara, for example, she's already hating me like furious. 'Kay, admittedly she caught me drinking alcohol without knowing what's happened, but she didn't want to listen when I was about to tell her. Instead, she went on screaming and shouting at me as if I was her damn punching bag. God dammit Kiara, I can be your punching bag, but please, does it have to be now? It's not like you are the only one who doesn't have an easy life with your nice Outcast boyfriend, other people have problems too... and her reaction didn't help much either, honestly. It's already hard enough to tell anybody about it, but it gets extra hard when said person is shouting at you like a madman. Best thing about this is, now she's gettin' sloshed in Kusari just as I am. Well played, Kiara, well played, unified in separation, right? It all only makes me feel even worse, really, I can't contact her. Or rather, she won't answer. Instead, she wants that bad blood to go on for I don't know how long. I don't even wanna know what she must think of me right now... *A loud, lanky sigh.* Oh Jesus...
No, I ain't gettin' caught in self-pity now. Not -again-. *Whisperingly.* Not as if that happened so many times before anyways...
It's not getting better, I keep it a damn secret while very well knowing this is of no use at all. Sooner or later, they'll find out when they see me in person again, the belly is almost completely gone already. And then they're gonna ask. And then I'll have to tell them I lied to them the whole time, and have to tell them why it died. And theeeen, Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm done for, I can guarantee that. Reeeeally looking forward to that already, believe me. *She takes yet another swig from the bottle now.* You know, the question I'm pondering is: Can I ever forgive myself that? I mean, I could forgive myself cheating on my boyfriend and various other stuff, but that? How is that ever gonna be supposed to work? Honestly, considering how I'm feeling now, I doubt I'll ever forgive it. But hey God, a divine intervention would be very welcomed now, so, you know, if you wanna make me forgive it, I'd be most grateful! *She chuckles for a very brief second before the laughter dies.*
Now, here at the end, I'll mention some other stuff, fairly quickly, 'cause I don't care tooo much about it anyways. Heh, as if I currently really cared about anything. The only reason I'm actually doing work is to distract myself, which works, heh. Nice pun. Anyways, first: I'll bake a cake, with Maren, you remember, Ez's girlfriend, exactly that woman yeah. The one that almost drowns herself in bad and racist jokes. And second: Did I tell you Lily got missing? Did I tell you that once again Mr. Vertiga seems to have his finger in the pie, as he happens to be a friend of said Lily? Oh, and did I tell you that my research brought to light that Lily apparently vanished on purpose? No? Right, now I told you, and I don't really wanna get into the details now. Investigating some of that incident was just a way to kill time and get distracted, not much more to be honest. Still... you know, when I think about it, actually I do wanna know what the hell is going on there. Except that V isn't gonna tell me anything, knowing him.
Hey! *She exclaims.* I stood through that! Did you see that? Bless the alcohol, for God has created a wonderful gift to humankind there. Everything I wanted to say has been said, now bye, goddammit! I've talked far too much already.
*That being said, she downs the rest of the Vodka in the bottle, sighing in amusement again while pressing the button to shut off the log.*