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01:18am 01/05/2004
 
mood: pensive
I have stepped out of the impromptu conference going on in the next room where David, Armand and Mona are to type this entry quickly and put into words my jumbled thoughts.


This news of another Mayfair spirit haunting the First Street property didn't come to me as something significant at first. But now, after hearing the story again and seeing the curiosity (and more than curiosity) in David and Armand's eyes, I find myself thinking about ghosts and their importance in this plane. Could Stella be that powerful a witch that she can have a very great impact in this modern world?


I think it funny too that Stella Mayfair had found the computer and the internet as a way to communicate from the afterlife. I remember Goblin's first attempts to make his presence known not only to me but my previous tutors. At time when I would send him away, or not acknowledge him I would find my computer turned on with Goblin's messages sprawled on the monitor.


I worry for Mona. For what if Stella wants to come back to the flesh, and that should any exorcism or possession fail, the ghost would follow a path of action same to what Goblin had did to me. What if Stella too come to know the taste of the immortal blood? Would she be seduced by it and crave for it as Goblin had? Even to the point of hurting the source of the life-giving elixir?


I must catch my breath, and gather my thoughts. Too many what ifs are running through my head. But isn't my worrying valid?


And then there's the other vampire, Louis, whom I've met at the cemetery earlier in the night when I was paying my respects to Aunt Queen at the La Fayette cemetery. I believe it was his anguished scream I heard on my way back to Blackwood Farm. Where is he know? Is he well? He had looked most troubled when we parted. And anguished. I see a bit of myself in him, and though I do not know him, I want to help him, to ease his sorrow in any way that I can. But I know not where I stand with him. He has his immortal companions, Lestat and Merrick, and that vampire child Claudia too. What would he do with another vampire especially one like me, for a friend? Yet, I think that's exactly what he needs - a friend.


I must get back to the other room. For now all I can hope is that everything turns out all right. For everyone.
 
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04:33pm 23/04/2004
 
mood: contemplative
As I write this, I still do not know where my dear Ophelia is. Halfway to the First Street Mayfair house, it was as if there was something that made me stop and turn back. For why should I fear for Mona? It is her family's house is it not? And she must have had good reason to make such a bold visit. I can never claim to know what goes on in my beloved's mind even with our preternatural powers at mind reading. But I trust her and in her abilities and the strength of her will and her mind.


My fear then, ebbed somewhat and I returned to Blackwood Farm, greeted by scolding from Jasmine for going out into the night without so much as a word to her nor a jacket to protect me from the cold. I gave her a small, careful not to reveal my fang teeth and climbed up to my room - Nobel Abelard waiting for his Ophelia.


My red-haired love for the moment left to her devices, I turned my attention to the other blood drinkers that I have met tonight.


It was a shock for me, to know that Merrick, that beguiling witch vampire, was still alive and had been seeking refuge in my property! How I could not have known about her wherebaouts even through my numerous walks along the muddy banks of the swamps bordering Blackwood Farm I could never know. Nor could I forgive myself. She had helped me in my troubles with the ghost of my twin yet I was not there to help her. If Lestat had not been so powerful, if he hadn't heard Merrick's call, I do not wish to think of what would have happened to her. Although images of the vampires of old, the weak ones who can not break free from their earthen tombs underneath the Les Innocentes - this is the picture that I can't get out of my mind. To be trapped in the earth in such a manner, just thinking about it gives me claustrophobia.


But she's safe. She's been rescued. And again their coven is complete.


Still, there's something about the way, Louis, Lestat's eternal companion, looked after Merrick had risen that makes me think otherwise. And though we have not even been formally introduced, I felt a sudden kinship with him. Perhaps because his countenance mirrored mine in the times when I feel as if I must question my existence and the quickness of how things develop around me before I go mad at it all.


And then there is the loneliness. A vocalization of such an emotion from me must seem surprising. Do not misinterpret me. I love Mona more than my own life. I love my family. I love Lestat and the company of other creatures of the night. It's all too exciting and everything happens in preternatural speed and scale.


Sometimes though, I wish for the quiet times, when I could simply think and take into consideration the fate that has befallen me after I had made that bold decision to go into the swamp and claim that little island.


And other times, I actually miss the constant company that Goblin had once provided.


Enough of these thoughts, they are getting more ridiculous with each sentence. But I still worry, about the one called Louis. I don't know much about him except what I have read of his memoirs and the colorful anecdotes Lestat has told Mona and I about him. If any of those things were true, I think, I think he could really use a friend right now.


As for the other vampires, I plan on getting to know them all. It seems unusual, that there is some sort of homecoming occuring right here in New Orleans. Blood drinkers from all over the world are converging for a reunion right at the doorstep of Lestat's self-claimed city. As a native of New orleans, I feel obliged to be the graceful host. And I think I know just what to give as welcoming gift. Aunt Queen would have done the same thing.
 
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10:30pm 17/04/2004
 
mood: rejuvenated
Upon my return I have gotten myself one of these online journals - to write down my thoughts as well as to communicate with other blood drinkers whom I have heard had done the same thing. It is a simple enough extension of the lengthy correspondence that Mona and I have shared before. Indeed, I believe my beloved Ophelia has one these online journals.


I've missed Blackwood Farm. Though as expected, even in my absence, it is being managed expertly. However, nothing still compares to being with family - preternatural or otherwise.


Yes, I am glad to be back.
 
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