The windows are open I think, It�s getting cold out now. I�m feeling�dead. Dead to the world. Tired. Old, all of that crap. Today I felt unfulfilled all day; I don�t know what it was. Work is getting to be hell, and I am bored otherwise. The long journey into another fall and winter began today maybe. You feel alone; you feel some sort of changes coming along, some good, some bad. I felt the bad ones today. I love the fall, and the winter, I don�t like the days like this though. I turned into someone else for a few minutes tonight. I got a phone call from some magazine person and I ended up hanging up on them telling them my wife had my checkbook at the mall, and yet we were eating dinner and I had to go. I contradicted myself to the magazine man, who got angry by the end of the phone call. I wasn�t really up for surveys and twenty questions whatsoever. The people on the phone can go fuck themselves for all I care. I don�t want the phone right after I have eaten dinner. That�s the last thing I want to do. Talk to someone I don�t know. The magazine man on the phone. Fuck him and everything he stands for. Fuck his car. Fuck his house. Fuck his wife. Fuck his kids. Fuck his swimming pool. Fuck his dog. Fuck his choice for president this November. Okay that�s enough fucking him and all of his stuff. I avoid people after a little while. I always hide from phone calls. I buy a cell phone though. Duh. I apparently want to always be able to be reached. I feel a bit different right now. Put somewhere I haven�t been in a little while anyway. I am having a good time though. This part of these things is always good though. I haven�t drank in a few weeks, and before that it was a few weeks. I completely don�t have the slightest desire to drink in the least bit. I�m gonna miss the bus if I do that. I�m not going to progress if I do that, quite the opposite; I�d rather be like how I was, a complete non-drinker. I mean I really don�t like it, and have been searching for the right time and place to be where it�s not an issue at all. I feel like that now. I don�t feel pressure. I feel okay being a little bit different from everyone. It works over here; it didn�t work over there. I am ready to do it though. Poison and poison do not mix well with me. One at a time please. I�d rather sit back and watch. I�d rather sit back from the tower and watch it all go down. I don�t want to miss anything. I think I have feeling like I did in the snow last winter again. Well, just a little. More drama. More of the same. Okay what do I do? Somebody please explain how to go about this. Have a drink and let it all out. I could do that, but I would probably fuck something up somewhere along the line. I feel like this is the best way I could be right now. I just do not want to follow because I feel I need to. I want to stay in and watch Repo Man on a Friday night. I don�t want to watch the vomiting contest. I want to stick around for the last dance of the night though. It�s always the best one. Best song of the night. The most famous couple walks out and does the final dance. People clap, hug, shake hands, and go home. Either way you cut it, everyone goes home happy. Everyone leaves sober. It straightens everyone out. The last man standing has to collect the bottles and cash them in though. The last girl standing has to decorate the kitchen. The last couple has to go make out in either the bedroom, the back yard, or in a car outside. No touching below the belt, and no exchanging phone numbers. This is off the record. This didn�t happen. This is between us now. Everyone will find out, but what happens in this car, backyard, or bedroom is just between us. If we fuck tonight, I swear I won�t tell anyone. Even your gym teacher. Your guidance counselor. I don�t want you to fuck up that scholarship. I want this to be just us. I don�t want anyone to know we were together like this. I drank that non-alcoholic Coca-Cola all night and you drank the kind with the smelly yellow stuff in it, what is it, whiskey? I am the guy that wanted to tell you this for a long time now. You tripped me. You put your leg out and tripped me. I�m really sorry, I will tell everyone about this. Your girlfriends will ask you about this. Your guy friends will tell you I was a jerk, and I am a jerk. He does that to everyone. Kiss and tell. Stories, with good characters, concocted to make me look good, and for you to look like an asshole. How�s that for a final dance? The party ended when the cobblestones got dirty and trampled on. The party ended when the lst MTV hit ended. The party ended when you grabbed me. That was the time the party ended for me. A party for a few months. I don�t want the invites anymore. I don�t want the party. Open your mouth, here�s your crumbled up invitation. Ten bucks and a large Sprite if I get it in your mouth. You had given me lung cancer that night. I gave myself a case of the cooties. I get to look back from time to time and see the high school people. All jumbled faces and corduroys. Moving backwards through those locker covered halls with football shirts all over the place. Enough acne to get us out of this oil crisis we�re having right now. Disgusting tongue filled kisses on the 50 yard line. Long red hair, punk rock records and Coca-Cola. My life as a high school boy. The parties were fun when we would go with soda. The straight edge guys. Go to the party, drink soda, leave and call the cops on the party and watch from down the street. Fun time. I want to do that again. Sir, there�s drinking and car keys in there by children and devils. Poison and poison don�t mix officer, that�s why I call you with this information. I didn�t get in any fights there tonight. I stayed on the third floor dreaming of ice cold water, amateur blow jobs, and Iron Maiden records.

before & after