Saturday, July 05, 2003

Tim says " Chucks fucking gay!"

Chuck says " Man that'ws cold."

Sam "What up."

So I find myse;f sitting in Chucks room with far too many males and far to0o few females.

I feel a bit drained after our intense theological discussion.

This would be the fourth time that I have poste drunk. Possibly the fifth, ifyou cpount the time that I did so the morning aferbut sober.

Tomorrow is another day.

Tim says "Guillermo is the most fucking rockinest man alive, so rock on."

Ah, the foolsihness of youth.

Friday, July 04, 2003

This morning I awoke to find that 21 beers out of my thirty pack had mysteriously vanished during the night. On my coffee table was my notebook and an uncapped pen. I flipped to the last page and saw an entry for July 4th. Even though my laptop committed suicide a few days ago and I lost everything that was on it, by no means would I let that stop me from at least writing while drunk.

It is a bit difficult to read in some parts, especially in the sections where I seem to get excited. But it does answer a very serious question that many people will encounter in their lifetime: What happens when you try to write while flipping back and forth between VH1's "Insomniac Music Theater" and "Mom and Dad Save the World"? For me, the answer is this:

I must speak to you. And you will listen.

I was mistaken in my belief that you are special.
I thought I recognized something inside of you.
A familiar terro.
A fear I shared.
I wanted to believe that we could become a resource to one another.
A reserve of strength.
Monsters to mercilessly and unthinkingly slaughter those that wished us harm
A gentle rain to wash off the clinging gray muck
that people seem to stir up into the air
as they walk wordlessly by.

I find you beautiful.
You loathe yourself in that respect and perhaps others.
I find myself grossly insulted and choose to take my leave. I choose to no longer
consider you more than anyone else.
It hurts to be so cold.
How I hate the cold.

And that is what I am pondering over right now. To whom am I writing in such an aloof and injured tone? One clue I have is scribbled in the margin. It says "Ha, Avril, the night only gets colder and you still won't have an answer by morning." I don't personally know any Avrils so I think that an Avril Lavigne video came on and further enraged me.

No, I think I know who I was talking to. But I must have just been moody and angry in general and then decided to get all snippy. Nothing wrong with just venting, right?

But the idea of severing any emotional ties to this person and setting up more of an observant relationship seems so satisfying. I'll have to think about it some more before I do anything because there is a very good chance that I am just being dumb.

Wednesday, July 02, 2003

Tim Say's" What up, baby?"

Tim say's, Go to town Alecia,"
As I lay here peaceully at three in the morning,

I'm here in Alecia's room listening to her makeout with some guy, Jamie, I think, and I am just doing what I thought I should do and be that asshole friend and keep her from doing something that she would regret and Icompletly realize that I am very limited in my power to do so.

The force is very stronge in this one...

it is not the most conformting thouhg at times to know that you did your brdy and absolutely failed. Know that I tried, all of you.

She is young yet, I would forgive her if I were you.

Alecia should hav been a man..

"brian Haller" "For sure."

Final though from Brian H: " Don't forget, love another, each other,especially when one anothers drunk. (Enter Background moan from Alecia)

Frm Gurg: ...