Monkeys in the Attic

The Honey Diaries - Bubba's Book - Numb

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Bogus) — Tue, 14 May 2013 18:05:00 +0000

Bubba slept soundly that morning, while his grandmother caressed his face and hair. The day was going to be hard, sober. One of those we never want to have. While the grandmother was kissing her grandson goodbye, Mrs. Kelley called his school to report his absence in the coming days. After that the two went out together to solve the relevant paperwork to the deaths of Mrs Lewis son and daughter in law.

******

It was almost lunchtime when Bubba finally woke up. He wore the clothes of the day before, and his shoes were under the bed where he slept. Once he put them on, he came out of the room bewildered, without recognizing the place. He saw a stairway in the middle of the hall, and went for it without even thinking. And he was on the way to the front door of the house, when Mark saw and ran to stop him.

- Hey, newbie! You're not even quite here and already wanting to leave us?

Bubba did not recognize the boy with generous blond hair and easy smile. So he did not answer him.

- You do not remember anything anyway, right? Well, Mrs. Kelley warned us that it would be like this...

- Mrs. Kelley? - the newbie asked, with his face lighting up in recognition of that name.

- You remember that you went to the hospital, don't you?

Mark was trying to organize the chronology of the events of the previous day, so that Bubba would remember he haven't been forced to be there. And received a nod in response, without a word.

- Well, then you came here from the hospital. Your grandmother accepted the invitation to stay overnight with you. Actually, I think you'll stay a few days ...

Suddenly there was an uncomfortable silence. Mark did not know if Bubba remembered hir parents' death. And didn't know if he should talk about it. He resolved, finally, skip this section and continue the conversation with trivialities.

- You must be hungry! Let's get to the kitchen. You can get away from us later with the stomach full.

Markell 'Mark'

Bubba was still not at ease. But Mark seemed to know what he was doing, and at this point he was already finding it better to wait for his grandmother there. He did not know how to lead his own life without the guidance of his parents. At that moment he would do whatever he was told.

Already in the kitchen, still silent, Bubba followed the movements of his host, who tried to break the ice.

- Did I mention that my name is Mark yet?

With a nod he got a negative response. Still could not hear the voice of that boy, and thought that maybe he needed to ask a question that could not be answered with yes or no. But he had to create the environment first.

- Markell, actually. Bubba is a nickname, right?

Another nod, this time positive in response. Mark realized he was not being very smart. But he kept trying.

- If Bubba is a nickname, what's your name?

At the end of the inquiry the host gave a slight smile. At that point it looked more like a competition. And he felt that he was finally going to win. Bubba would have to talk! Then she thought to himself that it would be very unlucky if the boy was called 'Yes' or 'No'... But he waited patiently for a response from the new friend.

- Thomas...

- What?

-My name... My Name is Thomas.'

- Ok, now I'm confused. What does it have to do with Bubba?'

- Nothing! It's just a nickname, not to confuse me with my father...

And it was at this point that the reality was present. All feelings anesthetized reappeared. Bubba suddenly felt a bitterness in his mouth, while his eyes watered. And immediately he began to feel sick. His belly ached, his vision became blurred because of the tears, and the blood pressure was rising. And when Joey came to the door, Bubba vomited at his feet.

- I always cause this effect on people! Are you okay, newbie?

Joey

Joey was a tall and lanky boy. He looked like a sheet of paper. And he had a sarcastic way of talking. It was less inviting than Mark's. But Bubba did not notice anything. He just had time to apologize before falling off the chair. He just did not reach the ground because he was supported by the two boys who were there. He was then taken to the visitroom where he was placed in the comfort of the couch, and bailed. While Joey sat beside him to ensure that he would not fall again, Mark ran to fetch a glass of water.

The two boys were about the same age as Bubba. Mrs. Kelley - she ran a temporary home for children and adolescents - was a temporary guardian. Both came from homes broken by addictions. And they could not attend school because of the threats suffered by creditors of their relatives. They were charged in an incisive way, even though they were no longer living with the debtors. When Bubba came to himself again, this was the explanation he received on why, on a weekday, they were both at home.

- But there is no lazing. We have a tutor who teaches the same here at home. We were with her when we saw you on the stairs ... - Said Mark, proud of himself.

- And I disturbed! Sorry ...

- It is the second apology I hear from you in less than ten minutes. More than I heard from my drunken father in a lifetime! Will we build a relationship on guilt?

- Which reminds me that someone has to clean the kitchen floor. - Mark pointed, already running to do the job. Bubba tried to stop him. But he paid no attention. And Joey dissuaded the newbie.

- Let him go. Mark is good at it. His mother forced him to do all the housework when they lived together. He does not mind doing it one time or another.

And so the morning was gone. The boys distracted the guest the best they could, knowing that what he had to think, if they let him still, was not the best of thoughts.

******

It was mid-afternoon when Mrs. Lewis returned. She had a sad countenance, looked tired ... And did not know how to approach her grandson. But she needed.

- The wake is tomorrow.

- Are we going to come back with them to Statesboro?

- No...

- Aren't we going to the funeral?

- Yes .. They will be buried in Wallaston.

- Grandma, this is not right! Why are we not going back?

- Son, there are a lot of things that you just don't know.

Bubba was outraged. He started to argue with her grandmother, but he remembered the day before, the fight with his mother, and how he regretted that the last thing he told her was in anger. Then he took a deep breath, wiped the tears, and then asked, calmly:

- What don't I know?

- Son...

- Don't give me that, grandma... Please just answer my question. It's time for me to know whatever has been interfering so much with my life. I crossed half the country, now I'm living in this cold city, I lost my parents, and you are telling I can't go back home. I just need to know why?

Ms. Lewis wanted to spare him from a few things, as it has been happening since everything occured. But she could no longer hide the facts of the boy. He was right; he needed to know. She took a deep breath and began to tell why the family had moved from Statesboro.

Statesboro City Hall

To understand the story, we must go back a little more than Bubba's grandmother did in time. The boy's father was a small farmer in the town of Statesboro, Georgia. Had inherited from his father, very early, the land. And lived happily there with his mother. He didn't neglect the studies though. Had a grade in Biology. And knew how to talk to all kinds of people. Due to this ability, and his honesty, in a short time he was chosen as the representative of the small farmers to the city council. And so he approached a different universe, where people were less honest, and less concerned with the welfare of each other. In the middle of it all there was Melaine, daughter of one of the counselors. She was different from it all. She was studying dance, and did not want to follow his father's footsteps. The two were soon in love.

The wedding was a natural progression, and it happened about two years after they met. The years went out well, with Thomas doing double shifts, and Melaine, after Bubba was born, working as a dance teacher at a gym. And they were so happy. But the country's financial crisis, years later, came to complicate things. Thomas ended up accepting a job at the office of one of the city councilors, thanks to his father-in-law, who controlled the local political scene. In this position Bubba's father saw a lot happenning. Including irregularities. It was one of those dirty tricks that caught his attention. The council was trying to pass a state law creating a list of prices for the products of small farms. Such a maneuver would be extremely harmful to workers. But the purpose was to favor a large food factory, that bought the production, and was situated in the city. All this maneuvering would be made at a smaller meeting of the board, little advertized, so that there were no impediments to voting the law. Investigating a little further, Thomas found that to approve such amendment, all counselors were receiving monetary incentives. The word corruption would not leave his head after that. And knowing it all, he could not remain silent. But before reporting the scheme, provided by the evidence that he had achieved in his work, he talked a lot with his wife. The complaints led to her father as well. And he needed to know if she would agree to this family quarrel.

Melanie thought as her husband, and did not oppose to the complaint that he decided to do. What neither of them had any idea is that there was a criminal organization behind it all. And the first act of retaliation was to reverse the situation so that the whole city, including small farmers, have turned against Lewis. After the complaint was made, the negative propaganda was made on the basis of a possible closing of the factory. And the city depended heavily of the direct and indirect jobs it provided. Suddenly the Lewis were responsible for not allowing a law that would keep the factory open to be approved.

Taunted by everyone, and fearing that neighbors that were friends before, would end up hurting his son, Thomas began to think about moving to another city. And this idea crystallized after Bubba was almost kidnapped at the school gate. Threatened by anonymous, persecuted by the citizens, and frightened by strangers lurking around the home, the Lewis fled to Savannah. Thomas still wanted to go back to Statesboro, and follow up to what he felt was right. But, he had to preserve the family. The plan was to stay in Savannah until the end of Bubba's school year, since the vacancy in the public school was guaranteed. After that they would return to Stateboro. Thomas would clarify everything. Their complaints were already bringing results. Corrupt people were being arrested. Unfortunately that included some of Melaine's relatives. And they were no longer welcome at family gatherings.

Savannah!

But in Savannah things were not better. Melanie was almost criminally hit by a car, Bubba was followed by strangers all the time, and Thomas received anonymous threats by phone. They remained at risk. State police suggested a major change. And Thomas, afraid of what might happen if he stayed in Georgia, took the advice. The family, in the middle of summer, moved to Boston.

After hearing the story that his grandmother told, Bubba did not know what to think. He no longer belonged to Statesboro. He did not feel part of Boston. Now he knew there was no family waiting for him in Georgia. Those who were not arrested were pretty upset with her parents, and consequently with him. No parents, no prospects, Bubba gave in again to the sentimental pressure, and began to cry. Stood up and headed towards the exit door. His grandmother grabbed him by the arm.

- They are arranging the funeral at our house. In and out of flowers, and chairs and all things ... Better stay here!

- Are my parents there already?

- Closed caskets... Too many bruises...

Bubba tried to wipe the tears. But they did not stop to sprout. Desperate and needing to be alone, he climbed the stairs of the house running, and took shelter in the same room where he woke up earlier that morning. The bed he slept in was Joey's. But he did not know that. And the friend would not mind if he stayed there a little longer. Bubba cried hugging the pillow for hours. The fatigue finally overcame him when the night has came, and he fell asleep.

******

The funeral was taking place when Bubba woke up in the middle of the night. There were three other boys in the room, each in their beds. There were two bunk beds in that room. The guest went downstairs quietly, already starting to cry. He passed by Joey, who was sleeping on the couch, and then assumed that he was occupying the boy's place. He then came close to the new friend, and whispered, with a bit of shame to wake him:

- Joey? Joey?

The sleeper woke slowly, rubbed his eyes and sighed.

- There's a funeral going on in your house. Why are you not there? Don't you want to say goodbye to your parents?

- Nobody called me ... And, to be honest, no, I do not want to say goodbye to my parents. But I have no choice. Or do I have?

- Yeah, you don't... That sucks!

Joey sighed again, and was hoping that Bubba would take some attitude. But the silence and lack of action disturbed him.

- Do you want me to go with you?

- Would you?

- Normally, NO!!! I don't know the deceased! But, what the hell. I'm already awake, and you are here with this doggy face... Okay... Let me wash this face and put some clothes on. I'll go with you. You owe me!! Big!!! I hope you don't forget that.

Mark seemed to be tuned with Joey. While one washed the face, another appeared at the foot of the stairs, his hair all messed up, his face all wrinkled, but already in clothes to go out.

- You are not alone, buddy!

- Thank you, Mark...

- Don't mention it. I would like the same from you if it was my parents there. How are you holding?

- Don't know. Feeling kinda lost right now.

- Hum... Grab my arm, I'm not a sissy. I'm just a caring guy. But I like girls.

At that moment, Joey was already there two, and they kept on talking, making fun of silly things, and making sure the walk to the funeral would be less traumatic. The three went out the door together, not knowing what they would find.

Continue...

SBogus

The Honey Diaries - Bubba's Book - Hurricane

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Bogus) — Thu, 02 May 2013 03:18:00 +0000

A door slammed in the entrance of number 256 Minot Street in Dorchester, South Boston. Bubba, the boy who had entered, had a deep cut on his lower lip, some other scratches and welts on the body, blood in the eye and a wounded pride. That's when his mom came from the kitchen and asked:

- What happenned, son?

Bubba was mad, and took it all on his mom... He started to scream and talk fast.

- WHAT HAPPENNED??? WE MOVED! People here DON'T like me. I am the hillbilly from Georgia here. People here are superb, disgusting ... Why couldn't we stay in Statesboro?

- Oh, son...

- Don't give me that, mom. It's irritating the way you're so sweet while I'm putting the house down! You don't understand it, because you don't go to school every day. I'm tired! I've decided! I'll sign up for the University of Georgia in two years. I'll get back there, whether you like it or not!

Very angry, and determined, Bubba - nickname he earned still quite small, cause he had the same name as his father - stomped off, went upstairs crying and locked himself in his room. he did not want to listen to his mother. Did not want her dissipate the anger he was feeling with her affection, her soft-spoken words, and the cupcakes she used to make to sell in the neighborhood. Yet she did try! She knocked on the door several times, bringing milk shake and such sweets.

- Bubba, talk to me, honey!

- NO! GET LOST! There you go, I talked.

- Then let me in so I can clean this cut on your mouth, at least.

Bubba did not even bother to respond. He was crying with rage. After half an hour, he fell asleep.

****

It was night, and was quite dark when he woke up hungry. He got out of bed muttering in pain, and left the room taking off the shirt that was stained with blood. Would ask his mother if she could save it.

- MOM!

He was calling loud, to see where in the house was she. But he got no response.

- MOM?!? I'M SORRY. I WAS NOT MAD AT YOU. WHERE ARE YOU?

He got nothing. It seemed that the house was empty. This was not normal. At that time his father was already home, usually, and his grandmother rarely leave. Maybe everyone had gone together to the supermarket to get something that was missing. And since he was hungry, he went to the kitchen, after leaving the dirty shirt in the hamper in his room. Bubba took something found in the refrigerator to make a sandwich. You could see by the marks on his arms and belly that the school fight had been unfair. He was pretty hurt.

There was a noise by the entrance door, and then his grandmother appeared in the kitchen, crying.

- Granny, what happenned? Are you ok?

Worrying that something had happened to her, Bubba rushed to provide a chair for her to sit.

- Granny, talk to me!

- Oh, honey, your parents...

Mrs. Lewis began to cry, unable to finish speaking. She sobbed and seemed to be very desperate. And that scene just worried the boy even more.

- Granny, where is everybody?

Holding the crying, she tried to continue.

- Your parents went to Quincy, talk to the principal of the art school they have there. They were trying to get a scholarship for you.

- Why I'm not aware of anything? Normally these things require us to do a test. I performed no test, nor I'm aware of a test coming.

- They wanted to surprise you. They wouldn't tell you anything if this appointment with the principal produced nothing good.

- So, they went to an appointment. At night?

- No... They were already returning... There was an accident on Hancock Street...

And then again, Mrs. Lewis started to cry. Bubba provided her with some water. She could see he was nervous by the water shake in the glass.

- Granny... Are they hurt? Is that it? Please tell me that they are hurt, in a hospital, waiting for us to go visit...

Mrs. Lewis lips started to shake. She was trying so hard to let the information out! But it was too hard to say what she had to say.

- Bubba... They are not in the hospital... I mean, they are... Just not being treated...

The boy started to cry compulsively. Granny was already crying. The tears started to fall on Bubba's lips, making the open cup he had burn. Soon it started to bleed again. He even tried to stop it with his hand. All in vain. Everything at that point was a mess. From his feelings to his body.Then his grandmother rose, wiped her tears and decided she had to do things that were pending from the day.

- So, your mother wanted me to take you to the ER, to see this cut on your mouth. She even left some money for a taxi...

- Granny...

- Let's do it the way your mother ordered me. She was worried about you. She asked me to take you to the ER, and that's what we're going to do. I just need to find some good soul in this neighborhood to take us, cause I spent the money to come back from Quincy...

- They were sent to a hospital at Quincy, then...

- Oh, baby... Let's forget about it for a moment, ok? I NEED to forget!

Bubba just agreed with a head shake. He was getting confused with his grandmother walking around the house, trying to find who knows what.

- Granny... I can go to Carney Hospital. It's a 10 minute walk. I go... You stay to rest... Not a good word right now... Please stop moving for a while. Let's figure things out.

- You go put on a clean shirt and I will find us a ride.

Mrs. Lewis was out the door in a second, despite the protests of her grandson. He figure it was better to let her do it all her way. So, he went to his room to find a clean shirt.

****

Mrs. Lewis was outside the house, looking for a familiar face. The family had moved there just two months ago, and still did not know the neighbors well. At this time an old car, faded blue, was passing slowly down the street. The driver seemed to look for something. She stopped at the Lewis house, and waved to the lady in front of it.

- Hi! Could you give me an information?

Bubba's grandmother approached the car. It was at this point that Mrs. Kelley realized that something was wrong. You could see the distress on the woman's face.

- May I help you?

- Hi! I normally don't ask strangers for help, but I'm really in need, and you seen to be a nice lady...

- Sure. What can I do for you?

- Can you give me and my grandson a ride to the hospital? He's hurt and his parents just died and we have no car right now, and...

- Oh, my... Calm down. I'll help. Where is your grandson?

- BUBBA!!!

Use your imagination to see this
in the situation described.

The boy appeared closing the door and approached his grandmother, not sure of what she was doing. He was a beautiful boy. Was about fifteen, was blond and blue-eyed. And had full lips, which accommodated a beautiful bruise...

- This lady...

- Mrs. Kelley...

- Mrs. Kelley agreed to take us to the hospital.

Bubba looked suspicious, and quite ashamed of the situation.

- Hi. Your mouth really need to see a doctor... Come in... I'm not going to kidnapp you. I'm your neighbor, actually. I live on Carruth street. Maybe you know some of my kids...

Mrs. Lewis poked him, and he relented. He didn't want to conflict with his grandmother at the time. He sat in the back seat while she was in the front seat beside the driver.

Soon enough Bubba realized that they were not on the way to Carney Hospital. It was then that Mrs. Kelley finally heard his voice.

- Where are we going?

- Wow... I'm sorry. I didn't tell you... We're going to Milton Hospital. Carney is not a good one. You will need to suture the mouth, so we'll get a good service.

- Milton?

- We could go to Boston Medical Center. But it is far for us, and we would lose a lot of time in traffic.

In a normal situation, Bubba would argue about the choice. Although he actually lived closer to the city of Milton than from downtown Boston, he had never gone there. But he was tired and confused, listless to keep any dialogue. So he shut up and looked out the window, trying to absorb something of the way.

****

In the hospital, they had to wait about ten minutes before a doctor called the boy. The staff conducted a detailed clinical examination, and found that Bubba was feverish. Besides dressing for wounds, and suture for the mouth, he was treated for fever and, in view of the strong emotional blow he was living, also received an indication of a mild tranquilizer. At the end of it, he was almost asleep with his eyes open.

If you asked him the next day, he would not remember to have been discharged after an hour, when it was found that the drugs were taking effect. Also he would not remember to have been taken back to the car in a wheelchair ... Five minutes after the car began to move he was already lying on the back seat, sleeping. And that's why he did not hear the conversation of the two ladies in the front seats. He didn't hear his grandmother tell about the horrible day they were having. Not even heard the two came to the conclusion that the encounter of them had not been casual. Mrs. Kelley was looking for the caupcake's lady in the neighborhood... That was the information she wanted when she stopped in front of Bubba's house. And he also did not see when two boys about his age took him from the car in front of Mrs. Kelley's. That night, he and his grandmother were hosted in Carruth street, received by the new neighbor, who felt sorry about the situation of the two. Upon waking the next day, all this would be a surprise to Bubba.

Continue...

SBogus

Cold Water - The Matter of Faith 01

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Bogus) — Thu, 21 Feb 2013 02:08:00 +0000

Faith. This word can mean several things. And it is exactly because of this that many of us end up not finding any of their meanings. In what you have faith? I was raised in a Catholic home. Despite part of the family practicing Buddhism, I was placed in a Catholic school, and educated at Masses. My mother made me believe that angels exist, God controls everything, and always want our good, even when we do everything wrong. For He is our Father, and that's how good fathers are. I grew up believing that miracles exist. Even with all the madness and unhealthiness of my home. Everything went wrong. But, somehow, we were led to believe that God had intervened in some way for things to go right in the end. And when it did not work out, well then it was a punishment, for what we had done wrong.

An absurd contradiction, that only made me believe that yes there is a God somewhere, but He is not giving a damn about me or any other human being. Bad things happen to good people, and humans are not perfect. We are sinners - according to biblical precepts - by nature, so we're always doing everything wrong. In this case, when do we deserve punishment, and when not?

I do not like confusing rules. I do not like exceptions, nor half-truths. I find it hard to deal with those rules in which I was raised. Today, once again, I had my Catholic faith put to the test, and I must say I do not know what to believe anymore. Actually, I was convinced by facts and reports that all this bullshit about angels and heaven, miracles and grace of God does not exist. What exists are us, imperfect beings, making crap after crap, and trying to swim in it to survive. Those who learn to swim, and do so with ease, leaving the shit behind, reach a little enlightenment, and peace. And perhaps this is the closest to heaven that we have.

I am one of those beings doing one dumb action after another. Today was no different. Some of my primary errors eventually tie me to other problems. And to solve them, I had to make one of my least favorite things: ask for help to my father. One of the concepts that I grew up into was that I would be somebody when I needed nobody. My father left home at fourteen, and lived alone. Graduated doctor, without support from anyone! And I? Well ... That's where my questioning of faith goes. If God is a daddy, and want to see us doing good, why haven't He acted on my behalf? Do I deserve less than others? Trying not to be selfish, I looked at the others. I'm not the only unsupported, without a divine hand to sustain me in my moments of despair. How many people are in worse situations than mine, without seeing any output? And where is God? In a church? In a temple? How can I be sure? He never spoke to me, or whispered in my ear, didn't call me to talk. And despite all my prayers and all my attempts to find Him, He continues to ignore me solemnly! I begin to doubt He is even somewhere to be found!

Now I'm here. Feeling small, defeated. Humiliated by life. My mistakes put me here. And if there is no God to come to my rescue, I have to try to change my situation alone. I thought about killing myself. But I'm too chicken. So, since I'm in a very difficult situation, and I hope there isn't any worse, now it's time to make it better! Don't make the same mistakes again, work harder and redo my life. I still do not know how, but this is the only possible path. Yesterday I watched an interview of a super intelligent guy, who I admire greatly. When asked about faith, he said he does not believe in any of this religious preaching. He believes there is a God. After all, things were made by someone. But he does not believe that God occupy His time monitoring humans, nor that He cares about what we do. He believes that things go wrong when we earned it. And do well when we work hard for it. And he does not believe in luck. To him that word was invented to give hope to fools.

You could find him a skeptic. And maybe he's alright. But this skeptical started a tiny business while still studying, without any pretense, and now he gets his living from it. He spends the year traveling, he is happy and has no financial problems. It is a human being adjusted and happy most of the time. He believes that in not expecting for God to do some work, we take responsability for our lives and start to work to make it better. Seeing the world as if there were nothing else, as if we were the owners of all means that we have a responsibility to do right by ourselves, without waiting for a miracle to come from heaven. If you are the owner, you take great care of it. That was the message...

So, I concluded I was just wasting my time waiting for God to help me get it right. Either I do all the work alone, or fail to be a happy human being. And I don't wanna fail... I really don't. So, I need to put some thoughts in order and start all over again, doing better and better, and better. The best that I can is too little. I've tried that, and I've failed at my - or any - standards. If there is no God, I don't know where I'm going to find the strength to do better... But I need to work it out! Let's see if I can! Let's have some faith in me!!!

Doug Amaranto.

Let me get started.

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Bogus) — Thu, 21 Feb 2013 00:36:00 +0000

O.K... Never thought I would expose myself that way. But I decided, after some emotional ups and downs, I should begin to express whatever fills my mind. I am a dreamy person, and this has caused many problems. The only real relief I've had in relation to the crazy ideas that I have, was starting to write a diary that eventually, for security reasons, became something no longer about me, but a fictional story of a world far away from mine. I was a pre-teen when I started. Over time, I developed the capability of writing (though not so sure of being so good), and the stories, previously written to ease the burden I felt, somehow began to entertain a few friends of mine, whom I gave access to the diaries. That's how I started.

So, this world was getting bigger, and some of my friends suggested that I start taking my writting play a little more seriously. Who knows if one day I could even publish a book? I do not know if I'm that good. But I would rather have other people, strangers, reading my stories, getting involved and having fun with them. So I decided to create this space. And I sincerely hope that other amateur writers, like me, cheer up, and get out of the ostracism, sharing their words here without any fear.

Much of my stories have the same background, so to speak. They are chronics and tales from real life (more or less), novels about possible people. And all stories have one thing in common: a character who knows all, and observes all. At first it was a diary about her life, which ended up involving some other characters. But like all stories about real life, this was becoming increasingly complex, and today there is a parade of personalities.

To make it easier to visualize places and people and personalities, I was adding context to real people. Based on the physical, and often intellectual of famous people, whose pictures were everywhere, and the interviews were plentiful. Some of the time you recognize the face caricatured right away. Other times you will find that I used a shell and wrotte a whole new universe for someone who is already there 'in real life'. I liked it when, on the internet, somebody invented a term for it: fanfic.

My neverending novel is called 'The Honey Diaries'. And there is a lot of 'books' inside of it. The stories have a central point and the 'books' are named after it. So, there will be different shades and different centers to the chronicles, but they respect some chronology and you will get it in a short time.

I have other stories. But I like to concentrate my efforts on the 'novel' that started it all. Here in this blog you will have access to many of the chapters in this diary, and my other inventions, eventually.

That's it for now. This is what I wanted you to know, so that you can understand the rest. Please keep in touch, talk, discuss, give me some feedback. We have a Facebook for that. And make this home yours too.

With love,

Sarah Bogus