Diary of Finn Isaac

BY : Zuzanny
Category: +M through R > MechWarrior series
Dragon prints: 1181
Disclaimer: I do not own the game that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

[March 20 3051]

What's so fucking wrong with me walking around my own appartment wearing nothing but the towl around my wet hair anyway? It's not like i'm showing off anything new to who-ever may be spending all their fucking time perving on me with what-ever fucking servailance gadgets they may have planted anywaFuckFucking bastards. Sorry. I'm swearing again. Must mean I'm once again throwing back more vodka than my theropist recommends. Again. My theropist... My theropist, one of the only people I know who will still be raking it in by charging way too much for just sitting there onher couch and saying; "Uh-huh" over and over, for years to come after the war comes to an end. If that ever does happen and there even is anyone left alive. Psychology seems to be one of those under rated skills that we are seriously going to be sorry we mistreated when the time comes, I think. Kind of ironic: the guy who led the first charge talking to a theropist after it all. The theropist "Uh-huh"'s in all the right places looking all thoughful and attentive (is that even possible. Who cares?), any way, after their session of deep and meaningful discussion, the theropist tells the guy that slitting his own wrists would be a good solution and would make all those involved a whole hell of a lot happier. (As if they could get away with that!) I'm feeling morbid right now. Can you tell?

I like my theropist. She hasn't tried to get me to fuck her yet. I probably would if she asked, never mind all that professionalism shit..but the fact that she hasn't even hinted - and beleive me I KNOW a hint when I get one - makes me like and respect her even more. I might even give up the vodka because she suggested it. Maybe. That depends on my mood.

Mmm... It's nice lyin in bed with nothing but the blankets covering me. I can't help rubbing against them. I haven't felt comfortable doing that for years. Maybe the theropy is working... I love Vodka too. (Gee, Reeeally?). I love the way it tasts, and how it burns down my throat and warms my belly. Wonderful stuff.
My theropists thinks I should stop drinking it, but appart from fighting the war and fucking who ever I have to to get the jobs done, there's not much more around here for me to do. She suggested Irt wrt writing a diary. 'To get all that inner anger out and onto paper', or something like that. HA!!!!

Dear Diary. you know what? In my experience there are two things that can happen to you that are the most painful. First is taking it up the ass by a group of very large and nast men when you really don't want it, and second is having your family slaughtered in front of you after you gave your ass to the fucking pirates in order to save them. THAT hurts. You have no idea. Fucking pirates. Fucking fuck fuck fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Just so you know... To get this strait, if you will... I'm not gay. Not really even Bi. Just because I've let more men take me than women have let me them, does not mean I enjoyed any of it. it so happens that letting a corrupt general take home an'innocent' little soldier and seducing him, can some times - and I do mean SOMETIMES- work better than torturing him. It's easier to get away with too.

I think that should be enough for the moment. I may have to go trick to catch a guy in the act again. I may tell you about it later, if I feel like it.

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