2003-08-26 | THE LOST ENTRY PART TWO

When I was younger, I used to do a lot of puzzles in my free time. Now I just spend a lot of my free time being puzzled.

I'd be more likely to read books if they were published on magazine paper.

The words "I don't normally complain, but..." are almost always followed by a complaint. The words "I don't normally do this sort of thing..." are almost always said by people who have done that sort of thing.

Remember when pagers were cool and cell phones were lame? Now you're a freak if you don't have a cell phone, and an even bigger freak if you give somebody your home phone number. Fuck all y'all. I'm getting a rotary phone, dawg.

I've found that nodding my head and pretending like I'm doing something important doesn't stop people from bothering me. They think that focusing even harder on something else is a result of them telling me some idiotic shit that even their mothers or wives wouldn't want to hear. They're kind of right. I'm doing it because I want them to shut the fuck up, but they think they're inspiring me. Of course this makes me sound like an asshole, but the point is that I'm too nice. If I were an asshole I'd tell them to leave me alone. Of course they can be as mean to me as they want. That's my job as the nice guy.

Even the guy at IHOP who hates his job, and gets paid shit, and who works with idiots and deals with broke, dumbass, white trash customers all day, could see my sadness today. He didn't offer any help, but what could he have done? Bringing me more syrup wouldn't have done much. Bringing more Coke does, though, whether I'm sad or not. Maybe when he asked me if I wanted more soda, that was his way of offering help, and when I said "no", even though I did want another one, I wasn't being helpful. But either way, for a moment we connected when our eyes met, and I could see how he hated his life, and he could see that I was momentarily upset. By now he's gone home and he's relieved that he's away from that death swamp, and I'm over my sadness, but for that brief moment we were equals. Either that or I had some ketchup on my mouth.

Why aren't perms permanent?

People don't always like honesty. Like when people see that I'm pissed off or injured, they ask me if I'm okay, and I, unlike some other people, usually say "no", but they don't like that. Most people like you to say "I'm fine", because they don't know what to do for you whether you're experiencing physical or emotional distress. Sometimes all it takes is a long genuine hug, a pat on the back, or a little "it's gonna be okay" pep talk, but people don't have time for stuff like that nowadays.

I've met a few online friends thru my diary, and only one or two seem to think I'm a weirdo after knowing me a while. It's funny because some people became my friend because of what I wrote, but I would never show this diary to some of my "real friends", but I guess those people aren't real friends (see next paragraph). And my mom could never see it, because although she would appreciate my writings, she would come across things that make her angry, and things that would worry her way too much. And no one wants their mother to worry. And my so-called friends at work wouldn't appreciate it, because they don't like to see people going in positive directions. They have distaste for the satisfaction of others, because most of them know they're stuck working a lame 9 to 5 job the rest of their lives, and they hate the fact that someone they know has talent to do something more. They're sad, but so am I, because I refuse to get something done just because I feel like being lazy for the time being. What a loser, huh? I'm begging for some inspiration and a kick in the ass. Tell me that I'm good enough to get paid for writing, or doing something creative. Or tell me I'm not good enough and make me try harder. Give me something.

I'm getting used to not having any friends around, other than my girlfriend. It's going to suck when I have to invest some of my love into another human being. Oh, this tragic life!! My only friends seem to be co-workers, so they don't really count. They seem to be too insincere, insenstive and insecure to keep on as full time friends anyway, so I just give them a peice of me at work, and leave them wanting more.

As a child, when playing with Rubik's cube, I often thought of taking all the stickers off and putting them in order on the cube. Although most of the time I did it because of morality, I also didn't do it because I thought they wouldn't stick back on so well once they were removed.

- premature ejaculation | tantra +