Time Journal Qst

Starman put the book back on his desk and went to sleep. His thoughts drifted to what he had read, and he was disgusted. How could he be so selfish and cowardly? How could he turn a blind eye to someone who had suffered as he had suffered? And one who he would come to love so deeply? It made him angry, but also curious.
In the morning he made sure to carry extra change with him, for the solicitor on the bus. It would be the first real test of the journal. He moved through the work day in drawn out drops of time, not paying attention to what he did or those around him, but focused only on the journal and the broken change in his trouser’s left pocket. The day went without incident.

Then he boarded the bus and waited. And waited. And on cue, there he was, soiled and shit-smelling and blind. He stumbled from passenger to passenger and when he stopped at Starman, Starman dropped his change into his cup.
“G’blessyou. G’blessyou.” He turned away and then turned back, sharply arching his neck to make his eyes level with Starman’s. He stared. Starman stared back. The journal was right, it was as if the blind man could see Starman. And the bus stopped and the blind man smiled at Starman and got off. Strange. But, the journal had been right!

Starman felt the excitatory chemical reaction ignite his organs, his heart sped up, he began to sweat, his mouth went dry, he trembled. Here was a chance to change himself! Here was the opportunity of a billion lifetimes! Through the journal, he could tiptoe around his failures. He would not die. He would flourish!

He tried to remember the next event that was written in the journal. July 28th. Before that was July 5th, which was today. On July 28th he would begin reading the Iliad and consider getting a present for Turtle’s birthday instead of his laptop. The book seemed important, so he went over to the library instead of heading straight home and checked it out.

>He decided not to buy a present and save for the laptop instead
>He decided to still buy the present and bear the beating he would receive from Burly
>He decided to spend the remaining few weeks thinking up and executing a plan to hurt and embarrass Burly
>He decided to spend his savings on a weightlifting set and train his body for the rest of the summer

Previous thread: >>331959

>>355689
>>He decided not to buy a present and save for the laptop instead
No need to get crazy, lets just try to avoid the bad ends.

>>355689
He got a weightlifting set for those
A E S T H E T I C S
He'll be a pussyslayer

>>355689
>He decided to spend his savings on a weightlifting set and train his body for the rest of the summer
Books+Bulks= Double Gainz

>>355689
>He decided not to buy a present and save for the laptop instead
So we can begin working on coding and start down the path that we seem to be interested in.

>>356069
But don't forget about leg day.

>>355842
>>356069
>>356334
On the way home from the library, Starman’s thoughts drifted to his money. He could buy the laptop, he would buy it eventually, according to the journal. Yet from what he had read, the “purpose” he gained from its purchase only fed his cowardice and weakness.

But he could change. His other self had wished for strength. He could grant it. He thought about the beating he would have received at Burly’s hand and the beatings he received daily at school.
If he had strength they would fear him, and through fear, there perhaps came respect. If he could change himself, wouldn’t this be the greatest change, the most beneficial? He could help Newgirl, he wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore. Yes, he could change. He could walk now, even now, and go to the store and buy weights and whatever else - to remake himself. And suddenly he wanted it. Suddenly the path was clear and cold and he was walking on it. The house was before him, and he continued walking, the road, clear and cold in the warm summer wind.

He would change.

He did his research methodically and carefully. He needed a system. He had discipline and he had time and he was devoted. This was a new religion for Starman. The church of strength and the rites of recomposition. He ordered himself around a schedule, food and sweat and meticulous measurement. He did not expect miracles, but miracles had already happened. He used his journal to catalogue his progress, weight, body fat, food, reps, sets. He ate more. He forced himself to eat even when he was full and bursting. And slowly and gradually, the fruits of his labor bloomed beneath his skin and the strength came and the admiration of his peers came and the fear was gone.

He neglected the other journal because he was constantly exhausted from work and exercise. He read on the bus, but he never brought the journal with him, for fear of loss or theft. He had already read up to the entry describing start of school and therefore he was in no rush. He did finish reading Iliad. He understood Achilles, in a sense, because for both of them, Achilles and Starman -- they knew their fates. But where the one was trapped and hopeless, the other was free and strong.

Two months wasn’t a long time. But it was enough. Starman was diligent and as a result his body reconstructed itself to assume power in every pore. People noticed him, on the bus, on the street, in the restaurant. Burly was suddenly friendly with him, though Starman rejected all attempts at friendship. He would not let this transformation touch his inner self. Piggy didn’t bother him as much. Turtle asked him if he had been working out and Starman knew that she liked to watched him in her idle moments. He knew that she was interested in him, as he was in her, some time ago. He told her nothing and remained humorless. He knew the nature of these people already. Though they had not hurt this version of him, still, he knew, and he hated them.

>>358310
Yes, there was strength in his limbs. And because he was never really ugly he obtained admiration too. And as the summer months finally waned and Turtle’s birthday rolled around, Starman considered his decisions and decided that he had been right. He gave her nothing. His mind was only on Newgirl. The next step was to help her -- once school started. He had fantasies of course, but in great grave solemnity, like the old songs soldiers sang before the night of battle. He had falled in love with a person he had never met or seen. An acquired love.

It was the last week before school opened. Starman had not touched the journal since his decision. But tonight was a quiet night and the stars were out.

>He slept
>He read the next entry on the journal
>He read a random entry from the journal

>>358317
>He read the next entry on the journal
What day is it? August 31? Lets keep reading and see if there's anything we'll need to prepare for.

>he read the next entry on the journal

>>358447
>>358619
He turned the desk lamp on and flipped to the next entry in the journal. The next few entries are just notes on various programming projects. Nothing of real interest to the current Starman. He flipped forward. Newgirl was mentioned in passing, how the bullies got worse and worse and the Starman of the journal did nothing. But he, the current Starman, would not let this happen. All the while the journal spoke constantly of purpose and goals, but Starman saw, as perhaps the Starman of the journal knew, that these were hollow words. Then at last an entry caught his eye:

December 20th, 2016

Only a few days before winter break. It will give me a chance to try out the new back-propagation algorithm I’ve been working on. Unfortunately, Newgirl stopped coming to school this week and the predators have readjusted their tastes back to our flesh, the ‘scholarshits’. I wonder what happened to Newgirl. I hope she didn’t do anything...drastic.

December 21st, 2016

Still no sign of Newgirl. I heard some rumors that she had dropped out. But the teachers continue to call her name during roll call. Maybe she’s sick? And anyway it’s none of my concern. The bullies have resumed their normal rituals. I had almost gotten used to normalcy, but no matter, purpose guides me and I am not fazed by these petty matters anymore.

December 22nd, 2016

Newgirl has vanished. I really wonder if she quit school. I don’t know why I even care. Well anyway, now that winter break has officially begun, I will go back to work at the restaurant.

December 23rd, 2016

To my great surprise, Newgirl visited the restaurant today. I wouldn’t have known except for Burly’s private jeers at her expense in the kitchen. Apparently she’s been visiting everyday. When I went out to peek at the stalls, I saw her. She looked fine, happy even.

>>358937

December 24th, 2016

I saw her again today. It looks like Burly was right. She only takes her order from Burly, which makes Turtle jealous. She thinks that Newgirl has a crush on Burly. By Newgirl’s face and manner when Burly approaches, I don’t think this is far from the truth. She has poor taste. But it’s not my problem.

December 25th, 2016

Newgirl asked Burly out today. It was...sweet. She couldn’t tell him face to face, because of her stutter, so she wrote it on a christmas card and gave it to him. And Burly the fucking asshole, laughed in her face and told her there was no way he could go out with someone like her. Newgirl left in tears and Burly went back in the kitchen to high-five his gorilla gang.
I felt bad for Newgirl and I followed her to console her. She waiting at the busstop. I tried to tell her Burly was a jerk. I tried to be nice. But she told me to fuck off. She actually said ‘Fuck off’. That’s what I get trying to help someone I guess. She did look pretty in the snowfall, though. Her cheeks were red from the cold and her lips. I could’ve been nicer. I shouldn’t have turned away from her.

December 26th, 2016

Newgirl doesn’t come to the restaurant anymore. This shouldn’t affect me, but it does. I guess it’s a fissure in the routine that’s all.

>>358937

January 1st, 2016

I’ve been working continuously for the last few weeks, even though I don’t need the money all that much. In truth, I’ve been waiting for Newgirl to come back. I wanted to apologize to her.

And then, there she was, resplendent and shining in the soft snow. She apologized several times. She gave me a card. I thanked her. And when she turned to leave I was bold and I asked her if she wanted to hang out for a while. And she said yes, and I said yes (but inwardly).

We walked together in the park near the restaurant. The trees were bare and the moon was out, and soft snow in the air and couples walking quietly in the cold. And we talked of many things. Newgirl hesitated to speak at first, because of her stutter, but when she saw that I was patient and that I wasn’t going to hurt her, she spoke more and more. She wanted to be a writer and it seemed that she had read everything under the sun. We spoke about the Iliad (a strange topic to discuss with anyone, let alone a girl) for several hours. When it grew too cold we had coffee at a diner. She had no family except her uncle, whom she hated. There was no one in their house except for her and her uncle and his butler and maid. They were rich. But Newgirl hated her house. She hated the school, which her uncle had forced her to attend. This was a thing we shared.

And she told me she was lonely. And she told me how embarrassed she was for approaching Burly. And she apologized again and again for what she had said. I wanted to tell her she was truly, unequivocally, irreproachably beautiful. But this I could not do. And then the midnight hour struck and the night and the year and part of my life was over. I walked her home. She asked me if we could talk again. And I said sure and then she smiled and the perfection of the world was never so apparent to me -- but in that moment I had something like a religious experience. I was converted to her church, ready to worship at the altar forever.

These are probably exaggerations, you who read me from the future, know that I say them now in earnest and not as a romantic. She really was so radiant. And if you, me of the future, do not have her with you now, if she does not lie in your arms and you in hers and the both of you not garments for each other, nor comforts to each others souls, if this is not so, you have failed, me of the future. Look upon this now and remember what love was in your youth. In one day, you fell into a happy abyss. How many days till you get out, me of the future? Perhaps never!

I now regret all the foolishness and cowardice I displayed at school. If only because that was time I could’ve spent with her.



Starman felt his lids grow heavy. But he was happy.

>He slept
>He continued reading
>He read a random entry

>>358940
>He slept
We know only bad things await. Best to end on a better note

>>358940
>>He slept
We've built a purpose and routine for ourselves, let's get sleep and get back to it.

>>358940
He slept.
Guy needs some sleep.

>>358940
>He slept
Time to get some rest.

Is OP kill?

>>366413
Boy I hope not

He put the notebook aside and closed his eyes. In the morning he did his exercises and went to work. Piggy had been allowing him to wait on the customers since his “transformation”. Everyone was friendlier to Starman, and gradually he gained confidence, but in a deeper portion of his soul there festered spite. He hated that people were so easily swayed by appearance. And the hypocrisy which tinged the attention he received was not lost to him. The days went, and Turtle had not gone out with Burly as the journal had stated. Burly had asked her out at the end of the summer, but Turtle refused his advances. Burly became more antagonistic, especially toward Starman. Meanwhile Turtle became increasingly more affectionate towards Starman and the at the last day of work, she asked Starman out. She was pretty that day and Starman knew she had paid careful attention to her hair and her make-up.

>And Starman agreed.
>And Starman refused.

>>368481
>>And Starman refused.
Nah, she's still kind of a bitch.

>>368481
>And Starman refused
We've knowledge of her "character"

And Starman refused. He already knew her nature and he already loved another. She was surprised and secretly Starman was pleased that he had wounded her, and he admonished himself for this cruelty. He told her that he was not ready for “something like this” but that she was great. That she was beautiful. That it was always so. These weren’t lies, but they were half-truths and therefore, poisonous. She believed him.

Thus he parted from her and went home. And he wrote in his journal the events of the day. And he cooked, he cleaned, he slept.

He was, in a word, content. Tomorrow, school would begin again and it’s old routines renewed, but Starman was changed. For the first time in forever, he looked forward instead of back, and he smiled at the thought.

-TBC in the next thread, once this one sages (which should around this weekend). Thanks for reading, hope you've enjoyed it thus far and sorry for the slow updates!

>>368849
See ya next time OP. Slow updates are fine, gives people time to pick a choice and whatnot.