12/26/01 "Same as other comments" (in honor of J. Lee & M. Dilemma)

It's a little scary, well disheartening, to think that I was (or still am) in love with E and now we've gone our separate ways. Most of the failure I blame on myself and my drug problems, but there were perfect opportunities for sustaining delicious love which I did nothing to keep alive.

Alcohol fogs a lot of my memory. I've been sleep-walking through life since around 16 or so. Maybe I'm stunted...constantly trying to escape? But what else in life? It's very easy to get sucked in to evaluations of other peoples' creation and bound by expectation & obligation.

(05.06.08- That would be bad, to be bound by expectation & obligation, for the narcissistic constitution)

I honestly believe that I'm supposed to be a gypsy wanderer. No stealing though. It feels better to be without than to steal. For the past few years I've been fattening up, thinking mundane, only SEEing the mundane.

It's sad to see the Boxer tame his spirit to make the money they give you for technology work. Working is important, or at least having the means for clean underwear & socks. He's fine, I'm sure... and I should feel more about the course of events my own life has brought me here by.

I perform a distracted flippant dance at work. I write horrible & ridiculous words like these.

Sympathy for the Devil

I feel terrible for that poor Walker kid from California. He's a centerpiece at the table now for the United State's reciprocation for the hijacked plane attacks. He's a fool, but he was doing interesting things, and now everyone is in his business. Why doesn't he give up his US citizenship if he's so antiamerican? I'm sure that it won't be an all pleasant experience for him to commit to life in the New Afghanistan or other neighbors.

Inappropriate criticism from Z-- about my old lover. Z-- can only be jealous.

1 hour of conversation with Demimonde E. Amusing, and refreshing. I think I know where I am. A Brit insisted we knew each other although we had really never met before in our lives.

Demands

I'm apprehensive about a few things. Stupid obligations coupled with very valid ones, and I'm not balancing it all very well. Ghettoness, but not of the finer variety.

I am working to find a new place to live, but with a few if/thens. It seems the place for me to go is back to Harlem. Harlem always did me right. Harlem and then balance my financial situation and then furniture, savings, and adventure. Winter will come and the sidewalks will sparkle. How long will I be in this city? It seems like I can't stay anywhere forever, or it would be a waste of my life. Then again, barely being able to bum one's way around is really limiting as well. It seems like a very rigorous effort to make money is necessary, but I don't have the inspiration for all of that.

I have to organize, but I need solitude.

The Scary-Go-Round

Make it stop, please. Make it stop.

Self-importance

I'm very sick of things which make no sense and are just taken for granted as a part of reality. I've also been particularly intolerant today. Generally, I mean, I've been intolerant. I'm working on one project and someone calls to relay some imposition in some hand-me-down attitude from whoever they're getting it from. This is all trivial, except the thing that is bothering me is how really unnecessary it seems to be.

A friend, A, said something like the only time someone gets frustrated is when self-importance gets out of hand. It's sort of true.

Mosquitos, Mosquitos, Everywhere

I'm not dead. I'm moving again, this time I might have to sign a lease. Somehow I still have a job. Z- had to lend me a few bucks again. I don't think she was happy. I stayed up until 6AM on Sat night tapping away because I was being assaulted by mosquitos. It seems that while I was away, my whole apartment, and particularly my room became infested with mosquitos. In the morning I saw one on the wall and hit it with something and it smeared a drop of my blood or so on my wall.

I found my glasses; I wasn't sure where they were. That leaves my bag and my wallet. I've pretty much written off my wallet, but you never know. Perhaps it's at the DMV or something. My bag is, according the the representative on the other end of the line to the Jackie Gleason Bus Depot, now at Penn Station, where I was on Thursday and actually at the lost and found. I was directed across the way and just left because I didn't think that my bag would make its way there. I should head directly over there, but I'm sure I'll procrastinate. I have no idea what is in that bag now anyway. It's ancient history.

Finding a new place to live is tough. I don't feel like it.

Nauseastalgia

More shenanigans in the Universe, of course I'm very suspicious I've been causing them. I'm somehow at work and everyone is asking me to not really do anything and to go home, etc. My eyes sting because I couldn't find my glasses this morning, but was in a super rush to get to work before anyone else did so that I could get a lot of things accomplished.

People were, of course, extra selfish on the subway and I wasn't feeling any of it so I just got off the express and took the much slower local. So much more comfortable.

I miss linux. I think that it will become a good friend of mine again. Maybe I should look more at BSD, but I bet it's easier to learn to make stuff on Linux.

Delightful conversation this morning with Grishkina. I'm sure that it will be the highlight of my day.