Oh Joy!
2000-09-10 || come by the house and have a glass of milk
Soundtrack � Bud Powell - Bud Powell in Paris

Sunday mornings. Nothing fucking better really. It�s quiet in this neighborhood. A whole deal quieter than the noise I subjected myself to this weekend. I had a good time as a whole, but again, I�m sort of glad the thing is over, I have two more shows up here in Mass, and that�s it for a while. I can�t deal with the crowds anymore. I�m sorry, but I don�t really desire to just chat with strangers and meet new people right now. It�s sort of �what it�s all about� when you go to those shows. I just don�t really care either way what t he guy next to me is all about. Thanks, but no thanks. This was a trip of blankness. I have a blank mind right now. I�ve exhausted my trust and feelings for people all over the place now. I don�t really have that much love to give, I think I showed it this weekend a little by sort of doing shit my own way. Selfish guy. Whatever, I like my way, what�s the problem? I can�t say I�m interested in conversation about drugs and people and this one and that one. It�s all noise to fill up the empty spaces. It does me no good, I don�t absorb any of it. I can�t absorb anything right now, as not one person is doing it for me anymore. I try to explain things and I try and tell people how it really is, or why I want this or why they should do this, I get nothing back in exchange. I get dumb blank comments that a 9 year old would not be satisfied with. Being the nice guy. Who the fuck wants to be the �nice guy�. I am the �nice guy�. That really good person, but that�s about it. Being the nice guy doesn�t get you late night phone calls, it doesn�t get you guest list passes to any bedroom. It gets you grief, that�s about all it gets you. Nothing more, nothing less. I wouldn�t care so much, but I don�t really have many left. I don�t have many friends left around here. They are growing apart. They are moving away from me. I�m moving away from them. No late night phone calls. I can�t say I even want the stupid fucking unintelligible late night conversations, but it is fun now and again. It is a good way to come up with writing material. I recently wrote this long story that starred all of my friends, every single one of them, even the ones that I don�t know that well, casual friends. It took place at a party, and sort of pointed out every single bad thing about all of them. Every fault. I deleted this story the other day though. It�s not something I would ever be able to show anyone without pissing someone off. It�s true. It�s a true story basically. Nobody seems to like the truth much. The truth makes people angry and defensive. Just like me getting that e-mail that Lauren forwarded to me as a joke �you have a big ego�. I got pretty defensive and accusatory, because at that moment it was the truth. Whatever though, it was a joke, but it still got a reaction out of me�and I couldn�t get pissed at her anyway�You can�t tell someone that they�re an alcoholic, and they only have a personality because of it. Their personality is a drunk. This will piss somebody off. You can�t tell someone you think they are a fucking confused person that doesn�t know which way is right and which way is left. Nobody wants to hear this stuff. I like to throw it in peoples faces from time to time though. It�s a little bit fun to get a reaction out of people. Either way�I do have a copy of this story on paper, but no one will ever see it that lives in this area anyway. I even made sure I put the worst things about me in there to be fair. I don�t mind it though. I�ve used the story to change myself. I shouldn�t do this it�s having a negative reaction. I shouldn�t give a fuck about this person, this is what they are all about. I just summed up this person on a fucking piece of paper, and now I want to burn the piece of paper and forget they even exist at this point. Happy times and laughs and cheers and all of that is past tense. Right now, it�s bland, and the same thing over and over.

It�s always nice to see who�s reading this, and since my guest book is down and out in Beverly Hills, drop me an e-mail and say hello. I�m not this miserable I swear, this is all an act : )

out



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