“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 219:

December 18, 2014

Last night, I accidentally got stoned with Astrid.  To say it was accidental may seem to make no sense, but it’s true that I didn’t purposely intend to get as stoned as I did.  I’m just a layman now when it comes to smoking pot since I don’t do it anymore.  All it took was two hits, but it was good shit.  Anyway, let me set up the scene.  My name is Wall Grimm and here I share my tale of getting high by default, as opposed to my fault.


I went down to see Astrid to give her and her daughter their Christmas gifts early.  I haven’t mentioned her daughter yet, but I don’t see her much since she’s always with friends.  She’s 16 and her name is Shaye.  So I went down there and Astrid, Shaye, and a friend of Shaye’s were planning to get high.  (There needs to be some clarification as to why Astrid would smoke with her daughter, and why I caved and smoked since I’ve been so well abstained, but I’ll get into that in another journal entry).  Shaye was incapable of rolling a proper joint so she resolved herself to pack a bowl.  I could’ve done it, but I didn’t.  I’m stubborn like that.

Before I write anymore, I have to say that I wanted to be sure to tell the complete story, so I wrote notes in the memo of my phone.  I think I’ll show you the notes first and explain later:

1. Too humble to think of a better word than cool

2. The new boots are like people.  They’re outside they’re slippers.  They’re inside they’re boots.  Opposite that.

3. Astrid making up words insisting they’re in the dictionary with me puppet show two asses hiding or thinking so from behind couch what was she thinking Astrid didn’t know we were seen but I did daughter doesn’t flush toilet daughter high but once her friend got there she blamed it on us but first said we were awesome but changed it to annoying once she got caught she said her name is Shayte spelled s h a y t e but that was my mistake she really said Shaye

4. Salsa sauce

5. Elf on a shelf

6. Tin foil wrapped around itself with a sock on its head and a joint

7. Felt like Ron Swanson dancing

Ok, these notes need clarification.

I’ll start with the last one.  When I used to get high, I was real cool.  I was Ron Fucking Swanson:

ron swanson

After two hits, I became Ron Swanson on Snake Juice:


Yep.  That’s me.

I blame Astrid.

Allow me to translate the notes:

1.  Astrid said she probably wouldn’t remember anything, so I said that when she wakes up, she’ll only know this fact, “Grimm’s really cool when he’s high.”  Then she said when I’d wake up, I would think “Astrid’s really insightful when she’s high.”  Then she told me the word cool was lame and I had to think of a better word.  I said no, my vanity was only allowing me to extend so far as “cool”.  She said that I was too humble to think of a better word than cool.

2.  She has these boots that are like boots when you wear them outside, but they’re comfortable and like slippers when you wear them inside.  When I wrote the note about that I made a mistake and wrote it the opposite way.  I was too stoned to change it, so I followed up with “opposite that”.  But yeah, this is where she got insightful.  She said “like people”.  They change depending upon they’re environments.  This can be either a physical or psychological transition.  Or both.

3.  This note was a bunch of things mixed in.  I’ll explain the Shaye name confusion another time.  And I guess Shaye doesn’t flush the toilet.  Self explanatory.  Astrid just told me to write that in my notes, I don’t know why.  Then there was when Shaye’s other friend showed up.  She mumbled to him that we were high and said that Astrid and I were awesome.  Astrid said “what?”  Shaye said, “you’re annoying.”  Astrid and I looked at each other.  We knew the truth of it.  We knew we were in fact awesome and Shaye knew it too.  She was just wicked high and pinning it on us.  But as for the rest of this note…I think this deserves a journal entry all on its own, so I’m going to leave this for another day.

4, 5, and 6 will be included in that journal entry.

For now, let me get down to the essence of the experience of getting high last night with Astrid.

I was trying to be cool like I used to be, but Astrid was making me laugh.  I tried to be kinda quiet, which I prefer to be, but whenever I did try to talk, she’d go off on a different tangent.  Astrid has ADHD – Attention Deficit when High Disorder.  I was determined, however, to finish whatever I was saying before her diversions.  I’d have to trace back the conversation to where it started and try to figure out the point I was trying to make and how the commencement of it lead to where I ended up.  I should have just quit but I had to do it, if only to prove to myself that I was capable of rational, clear, and sequential thought, hence enforcing the solidity of my cognition.  The all powerful and functioning faculties of Grimm.  There’s an innuendo in there…

Anyway, the result was that what would be a five minute story turned into epic tale, though I wished I could just stop talking.  But I had to finish the fucking story.  That’s all I wanted.  And in the end it actually was only five minutes that these moments of suspected verbosity lasted, because I frequently checked the time.  Time slowed down so it seemed like forever.

Then, as I was trying to explain something and she would go off with it, wandering around the house cleaning or something, she just couldn’t stop moving, and she wouldn’t stop talking, she’d just go off with what I said and then when she’d finally sit down she’d say, “oh I get it” and then explain to me what I meant.  I told her it was an interesting process to see her basically have a conversation with herself and work it all out until she made sense of it.  I was glad that I didn’t have to explain it to her, because then we’d just end up in one of those cycles again.

Last thing I have to say for now, and I’ll write more about the rest later, is that when I used to get stoned I was pretty quiet and serious.  But last night I couldn’t stop laughing.  And what follows is an observation I’ve made in the past when I’d stay quiet and watch and listen to the other stoned people in the room.  Last night I experienced it for myself.

There’s usually a couple people following everything more than everyone else.  One is the quiet one, like I used to be.  Ron Fucking Swanson.  The other is the one who can have spurts of verbosity but no matter what, just laughs a lot.  That was me last night.  Ron Swanson on Snake Juice.

When you’re laughing at people when they’re stoned, they think, because you’re laughing so much, that you’re stoned out of your mind and so they laugh at you, though they are likely more stoned since they didn’t even realize you were only laughing because of how stoned they are.  Or it could be opposite of that, and you don’t even realize it.  However, when I’m stoned, I’m always convinced I’m in a state of perfect acumen.  When I’m stoned, I’m super aware of what’s going on, but last night I felt like I had no control over my body, like I’d forget it exists since I was so enwrapped within my own mind.  I’d have to break out of my mind from time to time, and try to pay attention to what I was physically doing, since my body language is the culprit that would expose how high I truly am, when I’m experiencing presence of mind rather than presence of body.  Things I say make sense.  But because people don’t always follow what I’m saying, usually because they are too stoned, they assume I’m not making any sense, and my awkward physicality only validates that opinion.  Of course, one needs to be stoned in order to think this way.

But then, what I wrote above is a rough example of the kind of shit I say when I do speak, so who the hell can blame anyone else for not following me.

To be continued…

I have no theme song for this journal entry.  Instead, I’m going to take a moment of silence to reflect upon the teachings of Ron Fucking Swanson.



previous Grimm 218: Valentina, Internal Battles, and the Distraction of Jessica Lange http://wp.me/p41c99-16N

This is the snake juice scene, with Ron Swanson dancing at the end:

For a list with links to all the previous journal entries go to: http://wp.me/P41c99-J

Check out the Character Directory Pages to learn about characters mentioned in each post.


Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 211-235 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 2: Shadow Worms in the Rain


It’s been a busy few days and this will continue until Tuesday or Wednesday, so here is the second ever posted Wall Grimm journal entry. Enjoy!

Originally posted on "The Journal of Wall Grimm":

September 9, 2012

Talking is more exhausting than writing.  Listening is the least exhausting of all, unless you’re actually hearing.  Not staying in contact with some people, will not hinder any progress.  I should not worry about any of these people, they distract me from my focus.  All I want in my life is lots of tea but I’m a coffee drinker.  Earl Grey and Herbal.  Starbuck’s is too bitter.  I’m from Massachusetts, I drink Dunkin Donuts.

The sun keeps showing itself and it feels warm through the sliding glass door.  There are two parts of me that battle yet could complement each other.  I need discipline.  I’m planning to go to the Museum of Fine Arts, and maybe to the Boston Public Library.  I have had too much excess, not enough sleep.  I shouldn’t go to bed at 5:00am anymore.  And I need to quit smoking and I need…

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“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 218: Valentina, Internal Battles, and the Distraction of Jessica Lange

December 11, 2014


I need a vacation from people.  I used to like time to myself, and spent lots of time alone.  I’d take off and travel on sporadic, spontaneous, and random occasions.  But now I have three roommates, so I am never home alone.  I sometimes go in my room for solitude, but if Pete or Cola haven’t taken Bogart out, then he’s at my door all confused as to why I’m in there with the door closed.  He’s like a dog or a cat that way.  Something unusual throws off the routine and he gets all disoriented.

I lived alone for a while and when I was home I’d talk to myself.  I think people often talk to themselves, so it’s not a weird thing.  But here with three roommates, I find that at times when I would normally talk to myself, I catch it before I do it, so now I’m just mumbling an awful lot.  They say, what? what are you saying? what are you mumbling about?


I am Grimm the Mumbler.  Mumbling Grimm.  I used to be a Ramblin’ Man, but now I’m the Mumblin’ Guy.

I’m not complaining, just kind of expressing one aspect of my world that isn’t perfect.  Generally my life is good these days.  I’m busy which prevents me from thinking about things that might bring me down, like Valentina.  In that way, never being alone is probably a good thing.  External distractions are a manner by which I avoid internal destructions.

It was a year ago on November 29th that Valentina died.  I’ve been trying to ignore it, but everyone knows about it and they’ve got that concerned look in their eyes.  Except Bogart, of course, who is clueless, which is better than concerned.  No one has brought up the subject, I think they know I am avoiding the topic altogether.  I think about her every fucking day.  I think about how she would be growing, learning, developing new skills, and reaching milestones.  How she would look at me, smile, laugh, how it would feel to hold her, what she would smell like.  How my entire world would revolve around her and she would be my ultimate priority for the rest of my life.  How she would grow up and I’d have to beat up all her boyfriends and no one would ever be good enough for her.

I think of her every day, so I never expected that the anniversary of her death would be this intense.  This time last year I was in the institution.  Today is the anniversary of when Bogart arrived at the same institution and we met.  I had anticipated raising a little girl, but ended up “adopting” an insane man-puppy-dog.  The universe births strange designs.

Anyway, I’ve been struggling to avoid thoughts and discussions about Valentina, but it’s hard to contain.  That’s why I’m writing it here.  It’s too painful to keep to myself anymore, yet it would be even worse to talk to anyone about it.  I think if I did it could only be Pete.  He saw me at my worst and my weakest, so he knows, and I wouldn’t even need to say much.  But I can’t do that because I think I would just crumble and disintegrate.  Although being alone might set me off on a familiar path of self destruction, despite that I’ve accomplished so much and I have a lot of people relying on me, and my entire world now is set on a solid and dependable foundation.  Yet I feel myself needing to get away, to run away like I used to, to escape somehow.  This bothers me because my responsibilities are keeping me here, which means there are few choices in the way of how to escape.  As a result, I’m thinking about drugs and alcohol.  My abstinence had stabilized in terms of my ability to maintain it, and most times it was relatively easy.  Temptations were overcome by weighing out the consequences and affirming self-pride.  However, I’ve been feeling callous about all these positive things I’ve created in my life and in my self.  I’m beginning not to trust myself anymore, which is always disconcerting.  When you’re not able to trust yourself, then you are the least safe.

I guess it was bound to happen at some point, since I’ve been consistently less self absorbed, more reliable and mature, back to being the go-to-guy.  The go-to-mumblin’ guy.  A crash seems inevitable.  That’s not an excuse, because I’m going to keep fighting it.  I just had to let all that out.  And, I’m well aware that whatever I’m battling within myself would be far worse if I did relapse, because then I’d have to contend with negative thoughts pertaining to personal worth.

Distractions help a lot.  Things outside of me protect me from what’s inside.  Things like the people I need a vacation from, school, work, Blues Monday, or “Walking Dead” and “American Horror Story”.

Therefore, my theme song for this journal entry is “Gods and Monsters” by Lana Del Rey, but the Jessica Lange version.  Jessica Lange is captivating.  I can’t take my eyes off her when she’s on the screen, she’s so freakin’ beautiful and talented she drives me crazy and she’s 60 something years old, but I want her.  I want to make love to her, because you don’t “fuck” a lady like that, you make love to her.  I think this is Jessica Lange’s last season on “America Horror Story” which sucks, because I can’t imagine the show without her.  Anyway, I never heard of this song before I saw her sing it on the show, so I looked it up.  I’m picking it for my theme song because I think the lyrics are appropriate for what I’ve been going through lately.  There are some great lyrics that didn’t make it into the version for the show due to language.  I would’ve liked to hear Jessica Lange sing those lyrics though.  She’s so fucking hot.  I think I’m in love with her.  I’ve never even heard the original Lana Del Rey version, but as far as I’m concerned, the song only exists as sung by Jessica Lange.

And ummmm while I’m on the subject…..Jessica Lange, will you marry me?



previous Grimm: 217: A Sh*tload About A Lot of Sh*t

This is the scene from the show:

This is the iTunes version which has additional lyrics:

For a list with links to all the previous journal entries go to: http://wp.me/P41c99-J

Check out the Character Directory Pages to learn about characters mentioned in each post.

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 211-235 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 46 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 1: The Meaning of Wall & Grimm’s Friend Kathy


I was busy yesterday, and I am busy today, but I will not let my blog get lost in the wasteland again, so I’m reblogging the very first Grimm post, and may choose to continue to reblog the older posts on occasion, on behalf of newer readers. Take care, Sage

Originally posted on "The Journal of Wall Grimm":

I used to be Valente Grimani.  At 18 I legally changed my name.  I’m 23 now.  My mother brings me from a heritage of Siciliani Romani.  My father comes from a family of prosperity left behind generations ago.  My name is Wall Grimm and the following pages are the recorded evidence of my existence.

September 6, 2012

Breaking down the mental wall that blocks me from my creativity, insight, psyche, ability, instinct and magical sources. I began this past evening by visualizing the wall as a definite solid structure.  A stone wall.  Each night I shall remove only three stones until the wall is gone.  One at a time I remove a stone and hold it up and transfer it into a crow or a raven.  Each bird stays with me for they are my allies.  They will guide me, as messengers from the other world, on my path to…

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“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 217: A Sh*tload About A Lot of Sh*t

December 6, 2014

I miss Gary Oldman.  So I’m going to do a Gary Oldmanism today.  But right now I’d like to list Astrid’s strange tendencies.  She didn’t play the game that night, but she’s got some tendencies worth documenting, so I’m going to do that here and now.


*She’s always talking about shit, as in bowel movements.  She talks about when she has to go, when she doesn’t have to go, what the consistency is, what the experience of going was like, and she will even want to have you come look at her accomplishment in the toilet.  She has IBS so it’s a huge part of her life that she will share freely.  I guess I’m getting to know her inside and out.

*She will eat Burger King and McDonald’s even though she’ll suffer for it later.  (see above)

*She drinks only one kind of wine, from a box.  She drinks it with an ice cube even though she keeps the box in the fridge.  She never finishes a glass, or cup, or mug (see tendency about dishes below).  Instead she sips and the ice cube melts and then she tops off the glass and adds another cube.  So as she’s walking around with a glass, or cup, or mug…it seems like she’s drinking a lot, but she isn’t really, especially since it’s watered down.  She never gets drunk or even buzzed.

*She doesn’t have many dishes, or glasses, or mugs, or silverware.  What she has is always in her sink.  She hates doing dishes.  I don’t blame her there.  She cleans them out when she wants to use them, and now and then she does everything that’s in the sink.  Sometimes I do them for her.  Now and then she’ll throw it all away just to empty the sink.  Somehow she accumulates more.  She doesn’t own any coffee mugs.  I bring her coffee every morning and she always returns the mug I bring the coffee in, mostly I think just to get it out of her sink.  Sometimes she uses it for a couple days to drink wine out of before she returns it.

*She likes a clean house though whenever she does housework, especially laundry, it hurts her back.  Her decorations are always symmetrical.  She’s an organized person yet somehow she loses everything.

*Her car however is a mess.  But I imagine it would be hard for her to clean it out, since bending and leaning like that would aggravate her back.  I should clean it out for her sometime.

*She is an extremely generous and kind hearted person occasionally to a fault.  Some people take advantage or deceive her.  She is often hurt by other people, trusting in the goodness of people, or caring about them too much to worry about the consequences of being so invested in helping them.

*When she paints her nails, it takes her an entire day, or days.  She constantly adds new coats, then when it’s not perfect, she takes it all off and starts over.  Then she complains for days after that it looks bad.

*She’s always running out of toilet paper.  (see shit tendency above)  I supply her with a roll about every other day.  When she buys toilet paper, for some reason she will only buy one roll at a time, instead of buying a whole package.  And though it’s an item she needs so much, she will often forget to buy it when she goes to the store.  I buy more toilet paper than we need, as I account for supplying some to Astrid.

There’s more, but I’m done with Astrid for now.  It’s time for a Gary Oldmanism.


Lord Gary Oldman said:

“There’s 99% crap across pretty much everything.  And then there’s that one plateau where I want to be.”

Ok, so that makes sense, but I’m going to analyze it a little.

The definition of crap is:

Shit as in excrement, the act of taking a shit.  Then there’s the bullshit aspect of it: nonsense, falsehood, exaggeration. Then I was intrigued by this next definition (because yes I looked up the definition of crap): propaganda.  And last but not least, it means trash or junk.

Then I had to look up the definition of propaganda, not because I didn’t know what it is, but in order to thoroughly apply meaning to my Gary Oldmanism.  According to dictionary.com, propaganda is:

“Information, ideas, or rumors deliberately spread widely to help or harm a person, group, movement, institution, nation, etc.”

According to dictionary.com, the definition of plateau is:

“A land area having a relatively level surface considerably raised above adjoining land on at least one side, and often cut by deep canyons.”  Which I’m sure is the definition he meant in a metaphorical sense.

He certainly did not mean: “A period or state of little or no growth or decline.”

Unless if that were the case, and crap were to mean propaganda, I could rephrase what he said and it would go something like this:

“There’s 99% of information which is deliberately intended to harm people across pretty much everything.  And then there’s that one period with no growth where I want to be.”  Which would mean he is self deprecating. (yes I mean deprecating, not defecating, this version of his statement has nothing to do with excrement)

 Or he could have said:

 “There’s 99% people shitting across pretty much everything.  And then there’s that one land area where I want to be.”  If he wanted to avoid getting shit all over himself, or maybe he’s talking about the land area where there’s the most shit and that’s why it’s elevated, if he had a fetish or something.

But obviously Lord Gary Oldman meant:

“There’s 99% bullshit across pretty much everything.  And then there’s that one place risen above all that where I want to be.”

Which is pretty cool.  I try to take my Gary Oldmanisms and apply them to my life, so we’re going with the latter one here, since it’s reflective of what I believe to be his intended meaning.  Lord Gary Oldman is right.  There’s so much fucking bullshit in the world, and I also want to be above all that.  Of course, it’s different for him being famous and having to deal with media and Hollywood and all that crap, shit, bullshit, junk, nonsense…  But for me, I feel I’ve done a pretty good job.  The hardest thing for me has been rising above my own bullshit.  I’ve bullshit myself, I’ve bullshit other people, my actions have at times stemmed from pure bullshit motivated by bullshit.  That’s a lot of bullshit.  I’ve had to grow up a lot.  I grew up very young, too young, but all that did was make me more immature, if that makes any sense.  I was more reckless, fearless, unconcerned about consequence, and self absorbed as a result.  I think if you’re forced to grow up early because of family and having to take on an adult role, you mature sooner.  But if you are forced to grow up as the result of trauma and circumstances beyond your control at a young age, then you just are sooner aware of the adult world and as a child you’re not equipped to handle it so you think you’re real mature, but you’re just kind of a dangerous monster, mostly to yourself, and you’re set on a path of one bad choice after another since you don’t really care about anything, because it all becomes bullshit.  So there’s that kind of bullshit to rise above too, which is more a matter of perspective.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

My theme song for this journal entry is “My Name is Mud” by Primus, because it seems oddly relevant and Astrid likes Primus, as do I.


previous Grimm 216: Bogart and Ashley http://wp.me/p41c99-15P

next Grimm 218: Valentina, Internal Battles, and the Distraction of Jessica Lange http://wp.me/p41c99-16N


For a list with links to all the previous journal entries go to: http://wp.me/P41c99-J

Check out the Character Directory Pages to learn about characters mentioned in each post.

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 211-235 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 32 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 216: Bogart and Ashley

December 4, 2014

It’s time to tell the Grimm tale of Bogart and Ashley.  Things were going fine, but largely based on sex.  Problems began as Ashley gradually realized that Bogart was not capable of taking her out on his own.  I had to play chauffeur/chaperone a lot of times.  Once, I took them to the movies and dropped them off, but waited outside in the parking lot.  I had given Bogart money so he could pay for tickets and get snacks.  This was a test to see how independent he could be.

Apparently, at one point during the movie, Bogart left the theatre to go to concession for more popcorn.  While he was getting popcorn, he decided to spend the rest of the money, which was meant for dinner afterwards, on candy.  He never returned to the theatre.  Who knows what he was doing, but she finally came out and he was playing a video game with a twelve-year-old.

She was annoyed and they came out early before the movie ended.  Good thing I was waiting in the parking lot.  She wanted to go home, and on the way to her house, I had to pull over for Bogart to puke since he ate so much candy.

There were a few instances like that, when she was beginning to feel like their time alone together, when not involving sex, was more like she was babysitting him, than dating him.

The last straw was when she was over to watch the 4th season of the “Walking Dead” with us, before the 5th began.  She hated that show, but I got the feeling she wanted to spend time with me rather than Bogart.  Bogart was getting the same feeling.

So we were watching the show and she was disgusted by the gore, but asking me lots of questions about the characters and plots and stuff.  “…Things…stuff…” (credit Rick Grimes).  Bogart was getting jealous and told her to go in his bedroom so they could have sex.  She said no, she’s watching the show.  He began to pace, very agitated, and got more insistent that she go in his room with him.  I knew he was feeling jealous so I didn’t want to defend her by telling him to leave her alone, since he could easily get into one of his delusional and paranoid states and I’d rather not turn him against me.  Pete felt the same way about it as he remained quiet.  But Cola, who Bogart actually does treat like a woman, even though he’s baffled that she’s physiologically a man, has a different rapport with him, and is kind of motherly to him.  She told him that a lady has the right to choose what she wants to do.

This stunted him briefly, but it was kinda too late, since his agitation already got him in an irreversible state.  He said, “no! she’s mine!” and he grabbed Ashley roughly by the arm, pulled her up off the couch to take her to his room.

That’s when it was time for me to step in, once he got physical with her like that.  So I broke her free from his grip and stood in front of her, facing him and said, “you can’t force her to do what she doesn’t want to do and you should never lay your hands on a woman like that,” trying to be as diplomatic as I could be.  But he lost it.

He walked away then paced for a second, then walked in circles, in this rage.  Meanwhile, Cola got Ashley and told her she was going to take her home.  Once they left, Bogart turned and punched me so hard, I flew off my feet, bounced off the coffee table and hit the floor.  He broke my nose and aggravated my already damaged brain from the Gangsta.  I was completely dazed.  Plus hitting the table like that hurt my back.

Bogart went in for more while I was on the ground, but Pete stepped in, even though Bogart terrifies him at times, and said, “Bogart, no one here ever wants to do anything to hurt you.  Ever.  We’re all on your side.”  This seemed to catch Bogart off guard.  It’s not something anyone has probably ever said to him in the past when he was raging.  He’s never raged on me or any of us, so it was brilliant that that’s what Pete came up with to say.  I’m sure in the past others might have said things like, “calm down, stop, don’t do that, he didn’t do anything wrong.”  Essentially those words would just be trying to control him, when he’s in an uncontrollable and irrational state, or they would be defending the other person he’s attacking, and that defense would feel to him like a personal attack.

Rather, what Pete said was just a statement of truth that Bogart could recognize and believe, so long as he wasn’t hearing any voices contradicting that.  But Pete’s words stunted him, confused him for a minute, then he stormed into his room and slammed the door.

Once Cola got back from driving Ashley home, Pete took me to the hospital just for x-rays but my back was ok, as was my brain which was what I was worried about.  I was just very dazed, with a broken nose but there’s nothing you can do about that except clean up the blood.  Bogart never came out of his room the few hours that I was at the ER.  But Cola had checked on him, speaking through the door to make sure he was ok.

When Pete and I returned home, Bogart must have heard us because he came out immediately.  He trotted out stating that Ashley was a “cow” and a “slag” anyway and that I’m a tough bastard but I looked like a “git” because of the bruising around my eyes and nose and the split across the bridge.  Then he wanted to watch the “zombie program” some more and basically behaved like nothing happened.

Ashley has never come back and he never mentions her, he only says he wishes he was still having sex and that he wants another girl to have sex with all the time.  He’s definitely not heartbroken.

And so that’s the story.  Bogart is not cruel or selfish.  He’s just kind of like a 2 year-old.  The world revolves around him, he applies “mine” to things he wants, people become obstacles when they get in his way and they’re no longer people to him, just walls to break down.  His medication seems to keep the voices and delusions away for the most part, or strengthens his ability to ignore them and separate them from himself.  But with the 2 year-old mentality and the delusions at work…well the combination can be dangerous.  But he’d never hurt someone out of cruelty, he’s not a sociopath, he’s just an innocent.  Which is why it’s good he trusts me, then he doesn’t get paranoid.  I don’t think he ever had to deal with jealousy over a girl or that possessiveness.  It’s something we all feel at times.  He just couldn’t handle it.

I didn’t get mad that he hit me, because I understood what he was going through, and I was just an obstacle and a cause as far as he was concerned.  So I didn’t feel mad, I felt bad.  Bad for Bogart.  But I also feel that in the end it was a good experience for him.  It was real life bull shit, real life emotions, shit he needs to experience in order to know how to exist in the world.  And we talked about it afterwards.  I try to address stuff when I know he’s in the right frame of mind to take in important subject matter.  I reiterated what Pete said, that none of us would ever do anything purposely to hurt him, but I also told him he needs to respect other people, mostly women, who seem to always be objects in his eyes.  Women to Bogart seem to be like some kind of foreign species he can’t figure out but that doesn’t matter to him anyway since he only wants to fuck them.  That’s kind of a pubescent mentality.  He’s a whole range of ages, none of which are mature.  But I’m not one to talk about maturity.

Anyway, my theme song for this journal entry is “Take Me to Church” by Hozier, just because it’s a fucking awesome song.


previous Grimm 215: Grimm’s HyperSynopsis and Apple Bottom, Served with Eggnog http://wp.me/p41c99-15B

next Grimm 217: A Sh*tload About A Lot of Sh*t http://wp.me/p41c99-16b


For a list with links to all the previous journal entries go to: http://wp.me/P41c99-J

Check out the Character Directory Pages to learn about characters mentioned in each post.

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 211-235 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 215: Grimm’s HyperSynopsis and Apple Bottom, Served with Eggnog

December 2, 2014

Ok here’s the speediest overview of everything that’s gone on since I stopped writing in my journal:


sex before getting the girlfriend, lack of sex after getting the girlfriend, need for sex, masturbation, girlfriends (me with Solenne and Bogart with Ashley), loss of girlfriend (Bogart), school, studying, homework, Blues Monday, work, “Walking Dead”, “American Horror Story”, Halloween, Bogart’s birthday (he is now 23), unusually hot weather, snow, Thanksgiving, I quit smoking, exercise, Pete got a boyfriend, “The Lego Movie”, singing “Everything is Awesome” nonstop for a week after seeing “The Lego Movie”, buying Bogart Legos after seeing the movie, ordering a Wubble Bubble Ball off the “tele”, causing household damage with the Wubble Bubble Ball, Wubble Bubble Ball explodes, getting sick (me and Cola), Hasty visited (as you know, journal, just adding it in for consistency), computer issues, discovering that Christopher Lee has a heavy metal band (he’s 90-fucking-2!), missing Gary Oldman, missing my journal (don’t get all sappy on me), Bogart recently completed a Peer to Peer class at NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) which helped him learn strategies of living with mental illness, I attended the NAMI annual convention which helped me a lot with regards to supporting Bogart, this list is getting longer than I planned I’ll finish quickly: foliage, hiking, lack of sex, running, need for sex, daylight savings, masturbation, lack of sex (this lack includes hand jobs and blow jobs), lots of kissing, masturbation, blueballs, cold showers don’t help, I hate cold showers, perpetual erection, the need for sex, Wubble Bubble Ball explodes (there’s no connection between the need for sex and the Wubble Bubble Ball exploding, Invisible Journal Reading People have sick minds).

I guess that kind of sums things up a little.  I missed a few things, but whatever, I’ll get to important stuff eventually if I feel like it.

But yeah…getting back into the flow of it…here’s some more stuff with slightly more elaboration:

I’ve been aiming to get healthier so I decided to get a juicer figuring that would be a good thing to do or a way to get started, but I didn’t know where to find one.  I called Job Lot and asked the girl on the phone if they had juicers.  This was the conversation:

“Do you have juicers?”

“What kind of juicers?”

“…….The kind you put fruits and vegetables in and make juice.”

“No we don’t, but we have juice already made.”

(too baffled to respond or even laugh) “……ok, thanks.”

hang up


Ok so after procuring myself a juicer at Bed, Bath, and Beyond, I decided I needed new running shoes, so I went to Bob’s where I bought myself a pair with memory foam.  Putting those sneakers on is the closest thing I can get to sex these days.  They make me moan and go mmmmmm, man that feels so good.

Contrary to juicing, quitting smoking, running and exercising more, and making a bunch of other healthy choices, I decided that I love eggnog, which is kinda like liquid sex for me lately, and so I’ve been having it in everything.  Coffee, cereal, oatmeal, and other random stuff.

Speaking of lack of sex, Bogart hasn’t had sex since Ashley left him, which is another story for another time, and he’s been looking at me funny lately.  He’s not gay or bi but he accommodates for his own needs.  As he’s said in the past, if he were to close his eyes and do a “bloke” from behind without any extra touching, he wouldn’t know the difference.  I get the idea, but I’m never that desperate.  So one morning during breakfast, I’m in my bikini briefs as I often am while in my own apartment, toasting a muffin, a homemade eggnog muffin, and I get this creepy vibe so I turn to see Bogart with a warped glare in his eyes as he looks me up and down.

“Get that out of your fucking mind, Bogart.”

Cola, who was seated at the table said, “It’s always on my mind, Caballero, but you never stop me.”

“Well I didn’t know that, and you don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m more discrete, of course.  But you should know these things.  What about your psychicisms?”

“I tune them out with daily distractions.”

“You’re a daily distraction.”

Then Pete walked in apparently having heard the entire conversation, “I concur.”

I poignantly expressed, “wtf” then turned around to ignore the presence of these people while I buttered my muffin.

Cola added, “Well you parade around in your tiny little underpants showcasing that nice round Italian apple bottom of yours.”

Pete did a spit take with his coffee.

I left the room with my muffin.

I otherwise deny that conversation existed, but I’m documenting it here now so I can frame Cola one day.  C-O-L-A Cola.

And otherwise, as promised, I’ll be filling people in on everyone’s STRANGE TENDENCIES on occasion.  Since Cola didn’t play, having been sick, I think I’ll make some up for her.  But for now, here are mine:

-I hate the number six for some reason.

-When I’m using the microwave I make the number I’m punching in end in the number seven.  These are the times I often use: 1:47, 2:37, 2:47, :47, :27; then there’s the triple digit times: 1:11, 2:22, 3:33, etc.

-I pick my nose.

-I hate driving around looking for a parking place, so I park far away because I’d rather walk a distance than look for a closer spot.

-I moan when I take a good shit and if it’s a real good one, I will reflect for an hour or longer about how good it felt to take that shit.

-I bite my nails, sometimes after I’ve picked my nose.  But that’s ok, I usually wipe my fingers on my shirt before I put them in my mouth.

-I don’t like to have sex (when I used to have it) or jerk off while Gary Oldman II is in the same room with me.

-When I’m alone and reading, I like to read aloud in an Italian or a Romanian accent.  Sometimes if it’s slow at work and no one’s in the store, I’ll do it then too, until someone comes in.

And I guess that’s it, so until next time, adieu.

My theme song for this journal entry is “The Impossible Dream” by Christopher Lee, of course.


previous Grimm 214: Super Attractive Grimm’s Commentary and Philosophy of Introspection http://wp.me/p41c99-14V

next Grimm 216: Bogart and Ashley http://wp.me/p41c99-15P


For a list with links to all the previous journal entries go to: http://wp.me/P41c99-J

Check out the Character Directory Pages to learn about characters mentioned in each post.

This journal entry features Hasty from https://hastywords.wordpress.com/


Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 211-235 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 23 Comments

“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 214: Super Attractive Grimm’s Commentary and Philosophy of Introspection

November 30, 2014

I miss you Journal.

It’s been a time of activity and obstacles and just tons of shit going on.  All good though.  And I think it’s really cool that Hasty wrote some pages for me to paste in here.  So I think, as I recommence my journal writing, I’ll begin with my response to everything she wrote.

My name is Wall Grimm, and here is my response to Hasty’s journal entries:


*I like that she thinks I’m hot.

*I like that she thinks I am “super attractive”.

*It’s cool that she felt comfortable to just show up spontaneously and unannounced at my new place.

*Bogart and the pecans….hmmm.  I don’t have an explanation for that.  I think he threw them out for the squirrels but then changed his mind.  He was in his underwear because he wandered off, I usually don’t like to lose sight of him and this is a good example why.  But yeah, why he was putting the pecans in his underwear is just another Bogartism I can’t explain.

*Bogart is silly as Hasty says, but he is also clinically insane.  He has his moments but mostly he is doing well on his medication.  I think that’s because he’s happy where he’s living, with me, Pete, Cola, and Gary Oldman II, and of course he likes Astrid.

*It was a good moment when we were running around like kids.  I tend to feel so responsible for Bogart at times that I forget to have those moments and let him be.  When the fuck did I become so mature?  But yeah, I didn’t immediately tell him to go put his pants on, despite that Hasty was ogling him.  Hasty you pervert.

*Surprisingly Bogart didn’t punch me in the face while Hasty was around, but he’s getting better about avoiding my face.

*Yes I forbade Hasty from kissing Bogart, because he isn’t the kind of guy that a girl can give a friendly kiss to.  For him that’s implied consent for everything else.

*Playing STRANGE TENDENCIES was cool, I think I’ll include mine, Pete’s, Bogart’s, and Solenne’s in different journal entries at random times.

*Just for the record, I offered for Hasty to sleep in my room while I slept on the couch, because I’m a gentleman like that.  But she wanted to sleep with Pete.  I think that she likes that he is gay and she can go to bed with him without sex being involved.

*It was traumatizing for Pete to fly out of bed across the room, flip around mid-air (not really), and land splat on the floor.  Bogart isn’t usually physically aggressive with him because he thinks he’s delicate.  Pete’s not delicate, but he appreciates that opinion since he wants to avoid Bogart’s affectionate violence that he shows me.

*I told Astrid how Hasty described her and she laughed.  Astrid believes she is uncoordinated and clumsy and also insecure.  But I see what Hasty is saying.  Since Astrid has a bad back, she moves slowly at times, and in nonverbal terms, that indicates precision and confidence.  I think most people are more insecure than they come across anyway.

*Apparently Hasty thinks I don’t trust her because I was kind of a barrier between her and Bogart.  I trust Hasty.  I don’t trust Bogart.  And that’s another story I have to catch you up on, wise old journal.  Bogart’s girlfriend, you need to know what happened with her.  Be patient, journal.  You’ll know in due time.

*I’m sorry that Hasty is prone to depression.  I’ve had my fair share of it myself.  I have my own philosophy about it, in response to Hasty’s introspection.


Depression is irrational, completely.  And it’s self perpetuating, a seemingly impossible cycle to break.  I think we have to recognize our own worth, no one else can do it for us.  And the people who talk and say nice things to help us out, those words are heard and put on reserve and set aside, but never absorbed.  Instead those people are just labeled as good people, kind people, people to trust maybe, people who have good things to say.  And when we begin to break free of the cycle, and begin to recognize self-worth, those ideas can little by little come out of the subconscious and give us a better perspective of ourselves.  So those words can help eventually, or help us to continue along the way, though they’re not necessarily believed at the time.  It really all comes down to our own ability to find truth in it all, opposing the lies of depression.  And if we stop doing for others, then those others will begin to do for us, if they are true friends.  If they don’t, then there’s the revelation which can be painful but also liberating.  And pushing people away is easy not always because people are easily pushed away, but because often people will do what they can to give you space or do whatever it takes to make you happy.  That’s not always the case, but with true friends it is.  Hasty talks about introspection, but there’s no time for introspection when you’re never alone.  Being alone is kind of tricky at times.  It can get you deeper, or it can give you pause and time to reflect.  It’s the reflection that is the key to break you out, but you have to alter the fallacies of depression, and that is extremely challenging.  Also, the course of depression is often directly related to circumstances in life.  If these circumstances are catalysts, then if at all possible they should be changed.  But many times we don’t have control over these external situations that we don’t create, rather they are created for us.  That is an added challenge when we have to ride things out.  Sometimes the circumstances change, or if we have the ability we can change them ourselves, but if they are relatively permanent, we need to find some way to survive, and again the key is thought processes.  We may not be able to alter things outside of ourselves, and therefore we need to focus inward.  Easier said than done of course, but not altogether impossible though it seems to be.

–by Wall Grimm, student of psychology

Ok and back to it…

*That song “A Pocket Full of Sunshine” is not my kind of song, something I’d never sing, but Pete and Hasty had been singing it and listening to it all day so by the time I was on stage I already new the lyrics.  I didn’t play the guitar for that song because I didn’t know the chords but I’ve been getting pretty good at guitar, so I played it for other songs, and my harmonica which I always carry on me.  So I sang that song for Hasty, because I thought it would make her happy.  That was my sacrifice.

*Nothing worse happened with Hasty that night, because we were right on that guy.  Bogart isn’t very perceptive since he lives in his own world, but I got up quick and said something about the guy, what his intentions seemed to be, and as I headed toward him, Bogart charged passed me.  I had to control Bogart or he would have killed the guy.  He doesn’t know when to stop, and that’s true in many circumstances.  Anyway, Hasty was safe, though the guy hit her.  I wanted to prevent that guy from doing anything to any other girl so after we left the bar, I called the police.  They weren’t called while we were there because it ended pretty quickly.  Hasty didn’t want them to come or to go through the ordeal of it all, so I just got us out of there before I called.  Strange thing is that if Bogart hadn’t been there, it would’ve been me that people would’ve had to control.  I wanted to kill that guy as much as Bogart did, well probably more.

And so Hasty was safe, but it sucks that it happened at all.  I wish she hadn’t left before saying goodbye, but I’ll see her again soon.

Lastly, I must reiterate, and this is a vital piece of information which requires further acknowledgement and emphasis:

Hasty thinks I’m hot and super attractive.  Thanks Hasty, you’re not so bad yourself there, sweetheart.

My theme song for this journal entry is “Reach Out, I’ll Be There” by the Four Tops, dedicated to Hasty.


previous Grimm “The Absconded Journal of Wall Grimm as Told by Hasty” 213: Pockets Full of Sunshine and Rohypnol http://wp.me/p41c99-14I

next Grimm 215: Grimm’s HyperSynopsis and Apple Bottom, Served with Eggnog http://wp.me/p41c99-15B

For a list with links to all the previous journal entries go to: http://wp.me/P41c99-J

Check out the Character Directory Pages to learn about characters mentioned in each post.

This journal entry features Hasty from https://hastywords.wordpress.com/

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 211-235 | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 51 Comments

Thank You Hasty!

Well I’m back yet again.  I owe a lot to Hasty who kept my blog alive and was able to take my characters off life support and enable them to live and breathe and walk around and do stuff.  There’s been one thing after another that has kept me from my blog consistently.  First I went camping, then never mentally returned to the online world.  Then I decided to take advantage of the sabbatical and work on my novel.  When I planned to return, I got sick.  When I healed, my computer crashed.  It’s a young computer but I never renewed the warrantee, and I couldn’t find my recovery disk anywhere, so I had to order one.  It took a week to come in, then there seemed to be hard drive problems.  However, I suspected a virus and downloaded Norton since the McAfee didn’t seem to be doing anything.  I had Norton clean it up and now I’m no longer hearing the strange noise that otherwise seemed like a hard drive problem.  Hopefully my computer is ok now.

Unfortunately during the recovery process I lost the one file I didn’t have saved on a flashdrive.  This file contained a lot of notes and ideas for Grimm.  It also included all the awards I had received and that I was going to thank people for in a separate post, which I can no longer do.  Sorry about that.  I can’t remember who gave me what awards, that’s what lists are for, to give your brain more space for other stuff, so I can’t thank those people directly.  If you’ve given me an award which I didn’t officially accept or include in a post, this is why, so I thank you now, whoever you are.

I’m hoping that I did in fact save it on a flashdrive and that I just don’t remember doing it.  I’ve slacked a bit and haven’t bothered to look.  Since I started my blog a few years ago, I’ve written every single day until this Summertime hiatus began.  It has been a nice break, but I miss it and I’m anxious to get started again.

The last post I made like this, I stated I wanted to catch up first, then get back into it.  That’s when my computer crashed.  I take that as a sign to just jump right back in.  It will be very difficult for me to develop a routine again, particularly since my mornings have changed somewhat, and for some reason it seems to take me longer to cognitively awaken in the morning.  However, I’ll struggle through that and make it happen.  I will catch up with things along the way.  I have over 1,000 emails.  I have tons of comments and follows as well as plenty of fb and Twitter activity to get through.  If I miss comments/follows/activity, it’s because it seems that I can’t always access that stuff once it’s deep in the archives, but I’ll do my best.  In the meantime, I humble myself to ask for more patience as I get back in the swing of things, writing regularly and all caught up.

To my new followers, or to those who visited while Hasty was blogging here, I want to say welcome and thanks for coming by.  Hasty is my blog and real life friend who stepped in when I needed to revitalize Grimm’s world.  I can’t thank her enough.  It’s an intense challenge as a writer to take on another writer’s characters and she did an incredible job.  She helped me in more ways than I can even express.  My challenges with getting back into my blog world were beginning to discourage me to the point that I almost felt on the verge of giving up.  That’s when I asked her if she would be interested in posting for me.  She took on the task with even more enthusiasm than I expected.  I felt kind of like a parent who found a trustworthy babysitter while I was away.  My children (blogs) were in safe hands, well cared for, nourished, thriving, and loved.  She was nervous before, during, and even after the process.  She texted me regularly asking if the posts were ok and if she should change anything, or if there was anything she did wrong.  She approached the task with tentative eagerness and a sense of artistic vulnerability.  I don’t know why it amused me to see how much she cared, maybe because she’s adorable.  So I have to say, if anyone fucks with Hasty, they’re going to have to deal with me.  She has my undying loyalty and protection as a friend.  Thank you Hasty, you’re a beautiful person.

And so…I’m back now, and will crawl my way back into a routine and slowly get ahead after falling so far behind.  Thanks again also to my fellow bloggers and readers for your support and understanding.  You’ve all been awesome and I’m grateful to be part of this blogging family.

To everyone who celebrates Thanksgiving, I hope yours was both fantastic and fattening.  If it wasn’t, then just know that no one is alone in being alone or in not having much.  There are a lot of people out there without family or anyone to spend their holidays with, which makes the holidays more painful than pleasant.  There are often other adverse circumstances that go along with that.  It feels like I’m in no place to give advice about that because I do have family and I am grateful for this fortune every day.  But I just hope that those who experience suffering or loneliness during the holidays are able to recognize something beautiful in their lives, no matter how simple, and find that one beautiful thing to be fulfilling enough to experience even a small amount of joy.  And to one person in particular that I’m thinking of, in my real life, I want you to know that you are deeply loved, I love you, and I hope that helps a little bit to know that.  You know who you are, you’re the only person in my real life who reads this blog.

Take care everyone, peace,


Categories: NOTES FROM SAGE DOYLE | 12 Comments

“The Absconded Journal of Wall Grimm as Told by Hasty” 213: Pockets Full of Sunshine and Rohypnol

I woke up looking at Grimm.

I was on my side in the bathroom floor with Grimm, Bogart, and Pete asleep next to me. My first thought was one of panic and memory searching. Flashes of the previous night danced through my mind. My first thought was that I had too many drinks despite my determination not to drink in support of Grimm’s sobriety.

Last night Pete tried to talk me into dressing up. I was in the shower and he was sitting on the side of the tub waiting his turn when we started talking about all the good times we’ve had in the past and how many different crazy outfits I had worn. I told him about the time I dressed like Emma Stone in Easy A and then we both started singing,

I got a pocket, got a pocket full of sunshine
I’ve got a love and I know that it’s all mine
Do what you want, but you’re never gonna break me,
sticks and stones are never gonna shake me

Take me away (take me away)
A secret place (a secret place)
A sweet escape (a sweet escape)
Take me away (take me away)
Take me away (take me away
To better days (to better days)
Take me away (take me away)
A hiding place (a hiding place)

We laughed because although we both suck at singing we were stupid happy. I asked for a towel and switched places with Pete while he asked if I remembered to shave my cactus legs.  I told him no but I really just wanted to wear jeans and maybe a sparkly blouse to the club. He said ok but, “you should at least have one drink with me since I have to be out with you and your prickly legs!” I acquiesced but under the condition it was away from Grimm and ONLY one.

We got ready and met the others downstairs and packed into Astrid’s convertible. I was smooshed between Grimm and Pete. Bogart had the longest legs and Grimm was trying to keep us at arm’s length from each other. I was a bit hurt that Grimm didn’t trust me but then I was grateful because he was protecting me from myself. Astrid was beautiful, something about her eyes in the rear-view mirror and her hair blowing in the wind. She often seemed very introspective and that made me introspective.


Introspection is never a good thing. I’ve had so many things going on in my head lately. I’m prone to depression which can be really hard for friends and family to handle. In my experience depression isn’t just about being sad; it’s an irrational idea that you are completely worthless.

What gives us our worth? Is it our ability to do for others? Is it our contribution to society? Is it defined by our responsibilities? What if we don’t do for others and we stop contributing and our responsibilities are reassigned? Then we are replaceable and that makes us worthless…right?

Ok don’t run off and do anything irrational because those thoughts ARE truly irrational. Not to be dramatic… but who cares? If mosquitoes and scorpions are allowed to exist free from feelings of worthlessness then why can’t I? I mean I am not sucking anyone’s blood and giving them malaria. I’m not stinging everyone who steps on me, or ignores me, or leaves me, or….

I push people away in order to save them from my negativity but then I become more depressed because people are way too easy to push away and I think (or realize) they never needed me so I deserve to be alone, it’s better this way…really…it is…it’s ok!

So I was in the backseat between two of my very favorite people and I grabbed their hands and I held them. I didn’t dare look at them or I would cry. They squeezed my hand back and I continued looking forward letting their presence calm my thoughts. They are here. They love me.

Pete and I had taken a few shots (4 each because I have no willpower or resolve) at the bar before we met up at a table.  Astrid had the place reserve a spot for all of us at the front by the stage . The place was packed and filled with happy bluesy music.  I always notice the moments where everyone seems happy because for a moment everything slows down. Bogart and Grimm where in deep conversation, Astrid was slow dancing on the dance floor with an older gentlemen she seemed to know, and Pete was drooling over some guy playing saxophone. I asked Grimm who Astrid was dancing with and he said, “I don’t know but he is a regular and since Astrid has a bad back he will dance slow with her even if it is a fast song.”  I smiled at how beautiful that was.

After a few songs the band stopped and introduced Grimm. He surprised me by getting up on the stage without a pause.  OK, picture this… Here we are in a blues club and Grimm gets on stage, grabs a guitar, and after a quick huddle with the band, points at me and starts busting out…  I got a pocket, got a pocket full of sunshine

My heart nearly burst while my smile nearly cracked my face in two.

The crowd was so quiet until the chorus and the whole joint started singing with him. It was amazing and I was so happy. I keep using the word happy but happy works; happy is a good word. I was happy and had started to feel tipsy so I excused myself to the restroom.

As I passed the bar a man grabbed my arm and asked me to join him for a drink. I told him no thanks but he was very persistent. I sat down had one shot and then said thank you but I have friends to get back too. I remember him grabbing my arm to keep me seated and then only flashes.

–We had another drink.

–I didn’t feel well

–Needed the bathroom

–Passed bathroom

–He pulled me through a door

–His voice was angry

–Sharp pain in my face

–My voice wasn’t working

–Bogart walked up and punched guy in the face

I woke up looking at Grimm. I remember not one thing after Bogart punched the guy in the face.  I was lying in the bathroom floor with a pounding headache, a racing heart, and I wondered what horrible things I might have done or said. I wondered if I ruined everyone’s night and if they would ever be able to forgive me.

I am sitting at the kitchen table writing these pages for Grimm while the boys are still sleeping in the bathroom floor. I found some blankets to cover them all up, packed my stuff, and checked on Cola who was still sound asleep but I think her fever has subsided. I had noticed my split lip and swollen cheek in the mirror above Cola’s vanity.

Astrid walked into the kitchen and sat next to me for a few minutes. She told me what happened after I blacked out; she hugged me really tight and said she was so happy to know me which of course made me cry.

I asked Astrid if she would give these pages to you Grimm. I hope you feel better knowing your journal wasn’t neglected. Please tell everyone goodbye for me because I am too embarrassed to stick around after Astrid told me the full story.

I know without a doubt I have some really great friends and I am very lucky they love me. I am lucky you love me Grimm. Thank you for taking care of me and I will send you a text later!

Signed your very grateful friend,



This journal entry was guest written by Hasty at https://hastywords.wordpress.com/

previous Grimm “The Absconded Journal of Wall Grimm as Told by Hasty” 212: Cola Flu, Childish Behavior, with a Dash of Seriousness http://wp.me/p41c99-14C

next Grimm 214: Super Attractive Grimm’s Commentary and Philosophy of Introspection http://wp.me/p41c99-14V

For a list with links to all the previous journal entries go to: http://wp.me/P41c99-J

Check out the Character Directory Pages to learn about characters mentioned in each post.

Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 211-235 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 15 Comments

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