When I'm called into the office I must come. Period. There are no "buts" in my line of work. You either appear when you're needed or better not appear at all. Being boss, of course, has its benefits. I usually don't have to be IN the office to know what's happening or to give orders to the rest of the deparment. Nonetheless, I try to let them all know I'm there. My night round with Vincenzo had definitely occupied most of my mind during the entire morning, but after some time I became absorbed with work.
At about 2:00 am I was still in the office. We were all there, but as it happens, at night time, and at that hour, the environment becomes incredibly silent. I sat in front of my computer, in my desk, inside the biggest office of the second floor.
Santiago came in and brought me a cup of coffee.
"Oh, thank you, but I don't drink coffee."
"Nah boss. Just drink this one cup. It's pretty cold inside this building. You need to warm yourself and besides, there's no tea. So... take your caffeine drink and cheer up. Hopefully we'll be done before the sun comes out."
I smiled at him fondly. "Thank you."
He returned the smile. I noticed his slight flush of the cheeks and the way he swayed his body back in forth in obvious satisfaction. "Nothing, really."
Ever since Johnathan had left towards England the office was quiet.
Truthfully? I was just thinking about how I really wanted to sleep. I was so tired. Drinking the coffee, I continued working until three in the morning, when we had finally finished what we had to do and I took off for my house.
I know I complain most of the time, and I whine a lot. I'm completely conscious about that. I often think that I rather not talk to anyone at all about it, because it feels like I'm imposing on them. That is why writing all these feelings is what helps me out the best. It feels like I'm writing to a million invincible people who read these words because they want, not because they're obliged to do so.
Why do I seek so desperately to be accepted and loved? Maybe it had to do with my parents. Maybe it had to do with the institute itself. I do know that some years ago, I was completely and utterly sure of where I was going, and all I had in my hands were illusions of grandeur. Today, I don't know where I'm really going, though I know what I like to do.
I beleive love moves everything. We act because of love. We are always seeking someone who loves us and takes care of us, or sometimes we search for someone to love. Both aspects are incredibly important.
Who am I kidding? My heart is broken in too many pieces and I'm having a hard time putting it together. That is why I feel safest when I'm working and I forget I even have a life anymore. I'm alone. I walk this lonely road. My brother has his life and I feel incredibly happy for him. My parents are dead. Everyone has someone they're fighting for.
I seem to have found some light in Vincenzo. I don't know him. I don't know if I like him. I've only chatted three times with him. I enjoy his company; he is an Adonis, but what happens now? Did I act too rashly? Did I break many rules? Now what!
I need to sleep! Good Night!
OMFG!!
I had sex. But not just any sex. Sex with Vincenzo Milazzo. OMFG. What have I done!? What just happened!?
It started out as me prooving my innate ability to seduce men. Well, it is true that I am quite good at it. And well, I might like Vincenzo a bit... he has one hell of a body. Anyways. I went to his apartment with every intention of seducing him.
And it was a pretty wild night...!
It started out as me prooving my innate ability to seduce men. Well, it is true that I am quite good at it. And well, I might like Vincenzo a bit... he has one hell of a body. Anyways. I went to his apartment with every intention of seducing him.
And it was a pretty wild night...!
My Story
I was born December 8th. It was snowing. A lot.
No one, absolutely no one, knew that I was going to be a girl. I always thought my parents dreamed over and over that I would be a boy that could compete with the already male Delton in the family, Leonardo. Nonetheless, I was their great deception. They were not expecting to see a little girl within the blankets when the nurses handed them, their child. It was tough luck. Now there was a probability that the other brothers or sisters would have another male child. Either way, they were not interested in a female. They did not want to raise a girl. They found it pointless. After all, women in the Delton family married rich and that was their purpose in life.
Of course, I never noticed any of this. I would be reminded of my "tragic" first year of life by my grandmother on a daily basis. She would often say 'because you didn't see your mother's face when she found out your sex, oh! the horror!' and she laughed.
A year after my birth, my parents got their wish: they had a boy. However, as a busy couple of society they failed to give him as much attention as they wanted to give him. They did conmemorate his existence and they did spoil him on a daily basis, but still he didn't receive as much parental love as he deserved. In return, I saw my little brother as the family jewel. From the first moment I saw him, I loved him with every fiber of my being. I wanted to protect that little baby whose eyes stared right at my own. I wanted to be an example to him, someone he could look up to, someone he would also love. I knew what would be my role towards this neoborn: I was his big sister.
Talking about knowing what I had to do. I was a very advanced toddler. By the time Eric was born I could talk, walk, and was well aware of my sense of self. In other words, I was no average one year old. My grandmother noticed, my grandfather noticed, but my parents simply ignored that their child had practically learned to talk on her own.
I took my role as big sister very seriously. I wanted to be someone Eric could depend on. And, even though my parents tried to ignore my existence, they were just indifferent, they were never cruel, and from time to time they would make sure I had what a healthy child should have. I never thought they hated me. Quite the contrary, I think they saw me as a challenge that they never had the courage to face. In various occassions my mother would take a brush and try to touch my hair, but she would panic and would later talk to me in a week or two. I didn't mind as long as I was needed. If they needed me to be Eric's entertainment, I was content. If they needed me to be in the house, I was happy. It didn't matter if they didn't love me as I loved them, but they were my parents and I felt that somehow I had to protect them from their own fear.
As I grew, I was happy with my cousins and other Delton family members. There was no way I would ever let go of those great moments of life when I could run about free and laugh out loud. I really enjoyed my childhood.
As a Delton child, I was very privileged. I would sleep in a mansion when a great party was being held in the first floor. I would sneak away from my bedroom and I would sigh with delight as I saw the beautiful dresses, the diamonds, the sparlking life of the high society. I wondered how I would grow up to be and if I would also be able to wear such sublime clothing with as much ease as these people did. I was four when I accompanied my mother to a fashion show she had been invited to, and I fell in love with it all. I wanted to design, I wanted to draw, I wanted to create! I also wanted an excuse to have my mother admire me and acknowledge me. If she loved the designs, she would surely notice me. I desperately wanted her approval.
These were not the thoughts a little child was supposed to have. At the age of five I had discovered my love for fashion, but I had also discovered that I was very particular. I understood high level math. I could follow patterns and complete equations. It was not difficult for me to create completely logical conclusions from previously set premises. I was different, and I was scared. I had already acquired a very particualr passion for reading, and that had not gone unnoticed.
"You are very strange indeed, Lucille." My grandmother was the only one who would ever address me on those particular subjects.
"Why is that grandma?" I would tilt my head and pretend I had no idea what she was talking about.
"Don't play dumb with me, Lucille. It is alright. I have noticed. You are very much like me. Extraordinarily smart. That is important, Lucille Marie. We need to polish those skills of yours. I will take care of that."
At that moment, I didn't know what she meant, but I feared I would find out soon enough. As a result, I tried to spend as much time with my brother and family. What would happen with me? I never feared my grandmother like the rest of my family, but I knew she thrilled in creating havoc. A few months after our chat, I thought nothing would come of it. I kept pretending I was normal. I trained my hand to follow a series of patterns that would create alluring designs for those who viewed them. It made me happy to see that I had enough talent to be an artist.
It all came to an end when I was seven. My grandmother had single handedly convinced my parents that I should be trained with the best of the best, in an institute that would polish my engineering skills. I was seven when father and mother left me to fend for myself, all alone in Italy, in some institute.
The years that followed were very strange. Other children my age and a little older (or younger) were with me. Though our numbers did not surpass ten, we were treated as though we were destruction tools and the highest security was enabled to keep us inside. As always, I had decided to make the best of it, and I did. I loved computers maybe even more than fashion. It was the greatest pleasure to travel among an enormous labyrinth of webs and channels. I felt like I had the power to do anything, and I did! At first I was timid, but then the rushes of adrenaline took over. I was trained, trained to understand every type of software, but also trained to manipulate, create it, destroy it. I could practically design anything I wanted. If I wanted to keep on with my fashion related desires, I could create an entire program that would allow me to take my drawings from paper to a 3D form in the computer. I was enticed, I was absorbed. I usually wrote letters to my parents, but never got responses. Sometimes I would receive a postcard with absolutely no words. Those were very special. I would place them under my pillow.
The other children, who against my wishes I can not call friends because we were more like people in a similar situation, questioned my habits. They didn't understand how I could love in such an insane manner the very people who had sold me to the government (which is exactly what the Deltons had done).
"I love them." I would answer "If I was left here to be trained, and if one day my training is enough to protect them, then it will be enough. As long as I can keep on loving them, I don't mind if they don't return the feelings with such intensity. That is what I think. That is my purpose."
They never understood, but they respected me.
The people at the Institute would allow me to visit my parents in vacations (a month in summer and winter). It was the happiest time during that period. Eric and I would talk nonstop (he always wrote me back). We would usually escape to those typical worlds of illusions where children run to. He'd tell me about his dream to become the leader of the Deltons and about his dream of also being a pilot. I would listen to him and smile. It was fantastic.
Then I would return to the Institute and train more. As I grew, the skills I was introduced to became more difficult. I had to train my mind and body. I had to balance the technology with a great amount of abilities that would allow me to be an even more effective weapon. By the time I was fourteen, I had finished a college degree and I was considered a genius. So were the other kids my age. I loved what I had become. I fancied myself a spy. But still, I was a teenager, with the angst and drama that comes with the age.
At 14 my parents died. It became my personal hell. I changed, my world crashed. At 14 they were dead and I had not yet been acknowledged by them. They had not seen what I could do, what I would do, what I would become. It infuriated me and at the same time I felt lost and without a way. What hurt me the most was my family's reaction to the death. They didn't seem to mind. Their world remained unshattered, while mine crumbled. My grandmother had even hinted that their death was for the better....
...and that was the first time I discovered the dangerous potential hidden within me. I simply connected that night and hacked 25 million dollars from the Deltons' bank account. There was no remorse, I didn't even blink as I did it. No guilt. With that money, I designed and built (with the help of my companions), the jet which my brother would later call Celine: a super advanced plane with artificial intelligence. I'm sure grandma knew it had been me, because next time we met she eyed me with a great deal of respect. She would not create a scandal among her own kin, but she knew what I was capable of now, and she knew I could do more.
A few weeks later I was contacted by the INTERPOL. I had been referenced by the Institute itself. In my inexperience I had also done one simple mistake that had led them to suspect me as the author behind the Delton Bank Account theft. We made a deal: I would become their agent, they would take my little work of borrowed money to the grave. Next thing I knew I was an agent at the age of 15, leading a double life. I was in high school once again, but I investigated the parents of those in my society. I was in high school, but I already had a degree in Mechanics and Engineering. I played two roles perfectly: the high school prom queen, fashion lover vs. the undercover agent. I was a bit of a mess, though. I would often sleep with a boy, just to druge and hack his computer and gain all the dirt on his father or mother. I would do anything to justify my existence. And I did, and I had fun. I led two lives, but then again, I could do it.
After that, the rest is all known. I think I've written enough.
No one, absolutely no one, knew that I was going to be a girl. I always thought my parents dreamed over and over that I would be a boy that could compete with the already male Delton in the family, Leonardo. Nonetheless, I was their great deception. They were not expecting to see a little girl within the blankets when the nurses handed them, their child. It was tough luck. Now there was a probability that the other brothers or sisters would have another male child. Either way, they were not interested in a female. They did not want to raise a girl. They found it pointless. After all, women in the Delton family married rich and that was their purpose in life.
Of course, I never noticed any of this. I would be reminded of my "tragic" first year of life by my grandmother on a daily basis. She would often say 'because you didn't see your mother's face when she found out your sex, oh! the horror!' and she laughed.
A year after my birth, my parents got their wish: they had a boy. However, as a busy couple of society they failed to give him as much attention as they wanted to give him. They did conmemorate his existence and they did spoil him on a daily basis, but still he didn't receive as much parental love as he deserved. In return, I saw my little brother as the family jewel. From the first moment I saw him, I loved him with every fiber of my being. I wanted to protect that little baby whose eyes stared right at my own. I wanted to be an example to him, someone he could look up to, someone he would also love. I knew what would be my role towards this neoborn: I was his big sister.
Talking about knowing what I had to do. I was a very advanced toddler. By the time Eric was born I could talk, walk, and was well aware of my sense of self. In other words, I was no average one year old. My grandmother noticed, my grandfather noticed, but my parents simply ignored that their child had practically learned to talk on her own.
I took my role as big sister very seriously. I wanted to be someone Eric could depend on. And, even though my parents tried to ignore my existence, they were just indifferent, they were never cruel, and from time to time they would make sure I had what a healthy child should have. I never thought they hated me. Quite the contrary, I think they saw me as a challenge that they never had the courage to face. In various occassions my mother would take a brush and try to touch my hair, but she would panic and would later talk to me in a week or two. I didn't mind as long as I was needed. If they needed me to be Eric's entertainment, I was content. If they needed me to be in the house, I was happy. It didn't matter if they didn't love me as I loved them, but they were my parents and I felt that somehow I had to protect them from their own fear.
As I grew, I was happy with my cousins and other Delton family members. There was no way I would ever let go of those great moments of life when I could run about free and laugh out loud. I really enjoyed my childhood.
As a Delton child, I was very privileged. I would sleep in a mansion when a great party was being held in the first floor. I would sneak away from my bedroom and I would sigh with delight as I saw the beautiful dresses, the diamonds, the sparlking life of the high society. I wondered how I would grow up to be and if I would also be able to wear such sublime clothing with as much ease as these people did. I was four when I accompanied my mother to a fashion show she had been invited to, and I fell in love with it all. I wanted to design, I wanted to draw, I wanted to create! I also wanted an excuse to have my mother admire me and acknowledge me. If she loved the designs, she would surely notice me. I desperately wanted her approval.
These were not the thoughts a little child was supposed to have. At the age of five I had discovered my love for fashion, but I had also discovered that I was very particular. I understood high level math. I could follow patterns and complete equations. It was not difficult for me to create completely logical conclusions from previously set premises. I was different, and I was scared. I had already acquired a very particualr passion for reading, and that had not gone unnoticed.
"You are very strange indeed, Lucille." My grandmother was the only one who would ever address me on those particular subjects.
"Why is that grandma?" I would tilt my head and pretend I had no idea what she was talking about.
"Don't play dumb with me, Lucille. It is alright. I have noticed. You are very much like me. Extraordinarily smart. That is important, Lucille Marie. We need to polish those skills of yours. I will take care of that."
At that moment, I didn't know what she meant, but I feared I would find out soon enough. As a result, I tried to spend as much time with my brother and family. What would happen with me? I never feared my grandmother like the rest of my family, but I knew she thrilled in creating havoc. A few months after our chat, I thought nothing would come of it. I kept pretending I was normal. I trained my hand to follow a series of patterns that would create alluring designs for those who viewed them. It made me happy to see that I had enough talent to be an artist.
It all came to an end when I was seven. My grandmother had single handedly convinced my parents that I should be trained with the best of the best, in an institute that would polish my engineering skills. I was seven when father and mother left me to fend for myself, all alone in Italy, in some institute.
The years that followed were very strange. Other children my age and a little older (or younger) were with me. Though our numbers did not surpass ten, we were treated as though we were destruction tools and the highest security was enabled to keep us inside. As always, I had decided to make the best of it, and I did. I loved computers maybe even more than fashion. It was the greatest pleasure to travel among an enormous labyrinth of webs and channels. I felt like I had the power to do anything, and I did! At first I was timid, but then the rushes of adrenaline took over. I was trained, trained to understand every type of software, but also trained to manipulate, create it, destroy it. I could practically design anything I wanted. If I wanted to keep on with my fashion related desires, I could create an entire program that would allow me to take my drawings from paper to a 3D form in the computer. I was enticed, I was absorbed. I usually wrote letters to my parents, but never got responses. Sometimes I would receive a postcard with absolutely no words. Those were very special. I would place them under my pillow.
The other children, who against my wishes I can not call friends because we were more like people in a similar situation, questioned my habits. They didn't understand how I could love in such an insane manner the very people who had sold me to the government (which is exactly what the Deltons had done).
"I love them." I would answer "If I was left here to be trained, and if one day my training is enough to protect them, then it will be enough. As long as I can keep on loving them, I don't mind if they don't return the feelings with such intensity. That is what I think. That is my purpose."
They never understood, but they respected me.
The people at the Institute would allow me to visit my parents in vacations (a month in summer and winter). It was the happiest time during that period. Eric and I would talk nonstop (he always wrote me back). We would usually escape to those typical worlds of illusions where children run to. He'd tell me about his dream to become the leader of the Deltons and about his dream of also being a pilot. I would listen to him and smile. It was fantastic.
Then I would return to the Institute and train more. As I grew, the skills I was introduced to became more difficult. I had to train my mind and body. I had to balance the technology with a great amount of abilities that would allow me to be an even more effective weapon. By the time I was fourteen, I had finished a college degree and I was considered a genius. So were the other kids my age. I loved what I had become. I fancied myself a spy. But still, I was a teenager, with the angst and drama that comes with the age.
At 14 my parents died. It became my personal hell. I changed, my world crashed. At 14 they were dead and I had not yet been acknowledged by them. They had not seen what I could do, what I would do, what I would become. It infuriated me and at the same time I felt lost and without a way. What hurt me the most was my family's reaction to the death. They didn't seem to mind. Their world remained unshattered, while mine crumbled. My grandmother had even hinted that their death was for the better....
...and that was the first time I discovered the dangerous potential hidden within me. I simply connected that night and hacked 25 million dollars from the Deltons' bank account. There was no remorse, I didn't even blink as I did it. No guilt. With that money, I designed and built (with the help of my companions), the jet which my brother would later call Celine: a super advanced plane with artificial intelligence. I'm sure grandma knew it had been me, because next time we met she eyed me with a great deal of respect. She would not create a scandal among her own kin, but she knew what I was capable of now, and she knew I could do more.
A few weeks later I was contacted by the INTERPOL. I had been referenced by the Institute itself. In my inexperience I had also done one simple mistake that had led them to suspect me as the author behind the Delton Bank Account theft. We made a deal: I would become their agent, they would take my little work of borrowed money to the grave. Next thing I knew I was an agent at the age of 15, leading a double life. I was in high school once again, but I investigated the parents of those in my society. I was in high school, but I already had a degree in Mechanics and Engineering. I played two roles perfectly: the high school prom queen, fashion lover vs. the undercover agent. I was a bit of a mess, though. I would often sleep with a boy, just to druge and hack his computer and gain all the dirt on his father or mother. I would do anything to justify my existence. And I did, and I had fun. I led two lives, but then again, I could do it.
After that, the rest is all known. I think I've written enough.
Sugar Rain
Today I went to the supermarket. Shopping is one of my many talents, whether it be groceries or clothing, I always find a way of getting the best of the best. It's not strange, people in my usual super know me pretty well. They usually help me get the greatest fruits and veggies, and they're always so nice to me. It's going out with all the bags that's the problem. I usually blink prettily to two or three italian men nearby and they will immediately act as knights in shinning armor who pull my problems away and into the car.
So... after I'm in the car, then what? I get to my studio, and I have to pick my stuff all on my own. The building consierge is a fat, lazy man, who wouldn't help me with my groceries unless I were an extra cold beer bottle. I frown at him, but he merely growls, adding what's obvious "I've done my share of women, those pretty big eyes won't make me move from my chair". At this point, I feel like crying. I hate violence. Well, I hate brutality, and having to force myself more than usual. Women, and you might judge me for what I'm about to say, but we're generally delicate creatures. We should be pampered and at the same time serve.
~sigh~ This world is so disastrous because we've lost our balance.
I finally got to my house and unpacked everything. I gave Nemo his food and then sat in front of my mega computer for a while.
I take the hands off the keyboard for a second....
You know what? I believe in humanity. I believe that, in fact, deep down, we're all looking for a way to become better. I have faith that we're good. When we do something wrong, I believe it's because we're lacking in something else and we seek in the undergrounds of this world a way to fill in the emptiness of our miserable existence. But I believe in love. I believe that good will triumph if there ever was a war between light and darkness, I will settle for the light. Just because. It's a simply minded way of thinking, but I need to trust in the goodness that lies within all of us.
There you find my hope and dreams.
Nonetheless, as an Intelligence agent, I have no time to reflect upon good or evil, light or dark. I simply have a mission and I execute it. I do so, thinking that my actions are effectively making the world a better place.
I work on homicide, rape, theft.... every possible crime you can imagine. I don't usually go to the crime scene, though. It is not usually required. However, this morning, I was called to a small house located in the perimeter of the city. It was empty save for three corpses, hanging upside down, their blood having been drained. One of them was an 8 year old child. At that moment, I lost all contact with my ideals and hopes, and I just thought about hunting down and torturing anyone who would do such a thing. Apparently, the criminal's Modus Operandi was to do just that, leave the bodies as I explained and he also left a tape. It took me two hours to find a voice such as his own and locate him. I sent a team to capture him but I couldn't go. The reason for not going was simple: If I saw that beast I would've killed it.
It's rather contradictory. I believe that we degenerate sometimes to a point where we leave behind all semblance of humanity. I, myself, give in to my instincts in the strangest of ways. I won't talk about that now. But when it does happen, when I let go of my emotion and become entirely rational I eliminate from the genetic pool any beast that would commit a crime such as the one I had witnessed.
I think about it now. I once told a person that there were characteristics of the 'core' me, that would never disappear. I love fashion, I love my 9mm gun, I love my brother, I love a lot... I love, freely because you should live like that. I love cooking, and archery and yoga and pilates, and my little fish, and Marie, and Ash, and Vero, Carol, and my family... I suffer a bit from ADD, I'm exceptionally smart. I like karaoke, I want to change the world, even if a little, I want to be desperately needed. I guess there's much to say about that. But maybe another day.
Right now, I feel as I always feel when I write, more alone than ever, but I couldn't be in better company. I guess that for today, I will let go of it all and I'll just go clubbing like any 24 year old. Or maybe I won't, because that is no longer important to me. Maybe I'll go to a quiet place and just look at the stars, and fall asleep beneath the grand lake of blue. Maybe I'll dream of having dreamed everything altogether.
Maybe I'll just do something crazy tonight! Yes, I think that's it. Tonight, I'll just hide within the world. Where no one can find me, where I can breathe, where pain and hate subside, and only nature exists.
Maybe. :P
So... after I'm in the car, then what? I get to my studio, and I have to pick my stuff all on my own. The building consierge is a fat, lazy man, who wouldn't help me with my groceries unless I were an extra cold beer bottle. I frown at him, but he merely growls, adding what's obvious "I've done my share of women, those pretty big eyes won't make me move from my chair". At this point, I feel like crying. I hate violence. Well, I hate brutality, and having to force myself more than usual. Women, and you might judge me for what I'm about to say, but we're generally delicate creatures. We should be pampered and at the same time serve.
~sigh~ This world is so disastrous because we've lost our balance.
I finally got to my house and unpacked everything. I gave Nemo his food and then sat in front of my mega computer for a while.
I take the hands off the keyboard for a second....
You know what? I believe in humanity. I believe that, in fact, deep down, we're all looking for a way to become better. I have faith that we're good. When we do something wrong, I believe it's because we're lacking in something else and we seek in the undergrounds of this world a way to fill in the emptiness of our miserable existence. But I believe in love. I believe that good will triumph if there ever was a war between light and darkness, I will settle for the light. Just because. It's a simply minded way of thinking, but I need to trust in the goodness that lies within all of us.
There you find my hope and dreams.
Nonetheless, as an Intelligence agent, I have no time to reflect upon good or evil, light or dark. I simply have a mission and I execute it. I do so, thinking that my actions are effectively making the world a better place.
I work on homicide, rape, theft.... every possible crime you can imagine. I don't usually go to the crime scene, though. It is not usually required. However, this morning, I was called to a small house located in the perimeter of the city. It was empty save for three corpses, hanging upside down, their blood having been drained. One of them was an 8 year old child. At that moment, I lost all contact with my ideals and hopes, and I just thought about hunting down and torturing anyone who would do such a thing. Apparently, the criminal's Modus Operandi was to do just that, leave the bodies as I explained and he also left a tape. It took me two hours to find a voice such as his own and locate him. I sent a team to capture him but I couldn't go. The reason for not going was simple: If I saw that beast I would've killed it.
It's rather contradictory. I believe that we degenerate sometimes to a point where we leave behind all semblance of humanity. I, myself, give in to my instincts in the strangest of ways. I won't talk about that now. But when it does happen, when I let go of my emotion and become entirely rational I eliminate from the genetic pool any beast that would commit a crime such as the one I had witnessed.
I think about it now. I once told a person that there were characteristics of the 'core' me, that would never disappear. I love fashion, I love my 9mm gun, I love my brother, I love a lot... I love, freely because you should live like that. I love cooking, and archery and yoga and pilates, and my little fish, and Marie, and Ash, and Vero, Carol, and my family... I suffer a bit from ADD, I'm exceptionally smart. I like karaoke, I want to change the world, even if a little, I want to be desperately needed. I guess there's much to say about that. But maybe another day.
Right now, I feel as I always feel when I write, more alone than ever, but I couldn't be in better company. I guess that for today, I will let go of it all and I'll just go clubbing like any 24 year old. Or maybe I won't, because that is no longer important to me. Maybe I'll go to a quiet place and just look at the stars, and fall asleep beneath the grand lake of blue. Maybe I'll dream of having dreamed everything altogether.
Maybe I'll just do something crazy tonight! Yes, I think that's it. Tonight, I'll just hide within the world. Where no one can find me, where I can breathe, where pain and hate subside, and only nature exists.
Maybe. :P
Noncompliance
Tomorrow it's double the hours at work. I feel like I want to curl up in my bed and stay under the covers. The apartment is so silent at this hour. I listen to some soft music and drink some white wine in hopes that sleep will come soon. Nonetheless, it doesn't come and I'm still in front of the computer. The classic music has given way into some sort of soft pop.
I'm the Director of Intelligence of the Interpol-Italy. No big secret there. I'm always being interviewed and asked all types of questions. I'm 24. How did I make it here so young? How does it feel? Does it feel as though I've conquered the world? Have I made it? They question me about my PHD about my genius IQ, about the way I handle crimes and investigations. Sometimes I'm listening to the questions, other times I'm thinking about a pretty dress I'd like to design. It's as if two people live inside of me. One who loves mental games and enjoys the position of power given by my talent. The other is much calmer but enjoys the attention all the same: a designer an overachiever, a model... a believer.
It started to rain. I want to hold a hand, I want to whisper into someone's ear how warm it is under the covers, I want to embrace someone and allow them to hold me close. I want peace for the world, for myself, for my dearest friends. I want to sleep, for a long time, dreaming of a world where kisses and caresses are as real as my illusions.
It's so lonely right now. The winds is blowing. Nemo is swimming around in his tank. He is my companion. In the darkness, when not even the light of the moon accompanies me, I think about my existence. Who is this Lucille and what does she do? And then I realize that all I do is complain. I think I'm shutting down this blog, at least you woudln't have to see this wicked side of me. I'm so tired. If I close the blog then I wouldn't be tempted to write. IN fact, I wouldn't write at all.
It might not be so bad a move.
Sometimes I wonder... how can I get rid of all this regret?
I'm the Director of Intelligence of the Interpol-Italy. No big secret there. I'm always being interviewed and asked all types of questions. I'm 24. How did I make it here so young? How does it feel? Does it feel as though I've conquered the world? Have I made it? They question me about my PHD about my genius IQ, about the way I handle crimes and investigations. Sometimes I'm listening to the questions, other times I'm thinking about a pretty dress I'd like to design. It's as if two people live inside of me. One who loves mental games and enjoys the position of power given by my talent. The other is much calmer but enjoys the attention all the same: a designer an overachiever, a model... a believer.
It started to rain. I want to hold a hand, I want to whisper into someone's ear how warm it is under the covers, I want to embrace someone and allow them to hold me close. I want peace for the world, for myself, for my dearest friends. I want to sleep, for a long time, dreaming of a world where kisses and caresses are as real as my illusions.
It's so lonely right now. The winds is blowing. Nemo is swimming around in his tank. He is my companion. In the darkness, when not even the light of the moon accompanies me, I think about my existence. Who is this Lucille and what does she do? And then I realize that all I do is complain. I think I'm shutting down this blog, at least you woudln't have to see this wicked side of me. I'm so tired. If I close the blog then I wouldn't be tempted to write. IN fact, I wouldn't write at all.
It might not be so bad a move.
Sometimes I wonder... how can I get rid of all this regret?
Big Bang Theory
Yes. I am completely obsessed with the series. I feel rather nerdy when I watch the show and understand the jokes. This goes completely against my "I'm a fashion star" image. However, I guess I can keep up with both worlds. They're equally entertaining and appealing. I love Sheldon. He's my favorite!
"Whao, Sheldon you're so smart!"
"Smart? I'd have to lose 60 IQ points to be considered smart."
It's very entertaining and I highly reccomend it when you don't want to study for some dumb exam you're supposed to take tomorrow. Your mind is just not in the mood for it, you know?
I'm always thinking about my future and about love and about all these silly little things that generally trouble women in their 25s when they still don't have a relationship. I mean, I've had my fair amount of men... but now I have to question myself... would I rather have had ONE that's worth it than hundreds that were just a big waste of my time. You'd think "hey, you have the experience". Oh big deal! Experience isn't essential for a relationship. It's not like you gain "experience points" and "level up". Oh boy, I've been watching TOO much Big Bang Theory (BBT). The thing is, each male is a world apart. I might have experience with a lot, but that experience is totally and completely worthless with the upcoming candidate. It's all a pile of Schamooza if you know what I mean!
What is wrong with me, you ask? Well, it's just that right now, I don't know where I'm going related to men. At all. I have friends who are suffering the aftershocks of a breakup. I have friends who have just found the love of their lives. I have friends that have been in love with the same guy ever since 7 years of age. I have all types of friends who live with all types of guys.
What's the difference between me and the rest of the world? I'm beautiful, I know how to cook, I'm funny, I have a great body, I'm good in bed.... well, apparently I'm still lacking the golden piece which men look for. I guess I need a big sign which reads "Lost foxy lady, please give her a home."
Talking about home, I think I'll get another fish tank. I want more fishies to pretty it up.
Remember: Fish are friends, not food.
Bye now!
"Whao, Sheldon you're so smart!"
"Smart? I'd have to lose 60 IQ points to be considered smart."
It's very entertaining and I highly reccomend it when you don't want to study for some dumb exam you're supposed to take tomorrow. Your mind is just not in the mood for it, you know?
I'm always thinking about my future and about love and about all these silly little things that generally trouble women in their 25s when they still don't have a relationship. I mean, I've had my fair amount of men... but now I have to question myself... would I rather have had ONE that's worth it than hundreds that were just a big waste of my time. You'd think "hey, you have the experience". Oh big deal! Experience isn't essential for a relationship. It's not like you gain "experience points" and "level up". Oh boy, I've been watching TOO much Big Bang Theory (BBT). The thing is, each male is a world apart. I might have experience with a lot, but that experience is totally and completely worthless with the upcoming candidate. It's all a pile of Schamooza if you know what I mean!
What is wrong with me, you ask? Well, it's just that right now, I don't know where I'm going related to men. At all. I have friends who are suffering the aftershocks of a breakup. I have friends who have just found the love of their lives. I have friends that have been in love with the same guy ever since 7 years of age. I have all types of friends who live with all types of guys.
What's the difference between me and the rest of the world? I'm beautiful, I know how to cook, I'm funny, I have a great body, I'm good in bed.... well, apparently I'm still lacking the golden piece which men look for. I guess I need a big sign which reads "Lost foxy lady, please give her a home."
Talking about home, I think I'll get another fish tank. I want more fishies to pretty it up.
Remember: Fish are friends, not food.
Bye now!
Posting Once Again
I know I haven't been posting much lately, but I have been very busy with work and a whole lot of changes in my life. Nonetheless I'm back and as you see I've also changed my blog page! I loved the theme! It's called "Morning Sunshine". I even got the pretty little fishes that remind me of Nemo.
There have been a lot of changes here and there, hopefully all for the better. I still like green tea, though. I don't think that will ever change. I've officially filled my agenda with an exceeding amount of events. I can't bare the fact of being lonely these days or even stopping to breathe. Therefore I go to work in the morning, afterwards I work at the store designing the most beautiful dresses and clothing my hand and imagination will allow me to, and then I go home, to change, to arrive at some fancy party or some donation event. I must, under any circumstance, get myself tired enough to sleep.
Sometimes the house is so very quiet. I have some beautiful soft background music that soothes me and is smooth enough to allow me a fantastic dreamy night. I usually make dinner and dooze off. Living in Milan has its advantages, you can sometimes hear people screaming at night and the sounds of the wild night accompany you. Even as I lay awake sometimes, thinking random things, I imagine another world of fantasy and cunning, of dazzling knights saving damsels and great dragons being defeated. I usually fall asleep to the image of another me holding a great bow and arrow and participating in games of will and strategy. And when the daydream becomes a night dream, it is so lucid I can even taste the air as it commends me to start the game.
And therefore this is the theme for this theme: welcome to a place of dreams.
I'm glad to be posting once again! Lucille Delton reporting for duty! Roger out!
There have been a lot of changes here and there, hopefully all for the better. I still like green tea, though. I don't think that will ever change. I've officially filled my agenda with an exceeding amount of events. I can't bare the fact of being lonely these days or even stopping to breathe. Therefore I go to work in the morning, afterwards I work at the store designing the most beautiful dresses and clothing my hand and imagination will allow me to, and then I go home, to change, to arrive at some fancy party or some donation event. I must, under any circumstance, get myself tired enough to sleep.
Sometimes the house is so very quiet. I have some beautiful soft background music that soothes me and is smooth enough to allow me a fantastic dreamy night. I usually make dinner and dooze off. Living in Milan has its advantages, you can sometimes hear people screaming at night and the sounds of the wild night accompany you. Even as I lay awake sometimes, thinking random things, I imagine another world of fantasy and cunning, of dazzling knights saving damsels and great dragons being defeated. I usually fall asleep to the image of another me holding a great bow and arrow and participating in games of will and strategy. And when the daydream becomes a night dream, it is so lucid I can even taste the air as it commends me to start the game.
And therefore this is the theme for this theme: welcome to a place of dreams.
I'm glad to be posting once again! Lucille Delton reporting for duty! Roger out!