Current location:	Stately Wayne Manor
Current mood:	Sour
Entry tags:	girls, idiot, kid, kid sucks, loser, retard, stupid

Yeah, I'm crazy but I get the job done...
I am fucking retarded.


So, I'm seeing Aleta... or maybe I should say STILL seeing Aleta. Shocking, I know... what's it been two weeks? Has to be some kind of goddamned record
I realized sometime yesterday that she was talking to me about people she was dating. Not dated mind you. No. DATING. Tense: PRESENT. I reeled back for a slightly. Maybe I grew a little silent, as every chorus of angel housed within my hoveled mess of a self went from singing her praises to a hushed and hurried murmuring of:

"What...what did she just say?"
"Idunno... I think it's the end of the world..."

I spent the whole day complaining to myself about it. About being 'one of many' with someone. The seemingly inhuman contest of competition for this persons affections caused my teeth to uncontrollably grind. Yeilding a fine powder of enamel and bitterness. My mind went through it's usual acrobatics, but now with a focused singular goal. Topping all these chodes so the only I remain! The old romance engine started to whir and my grand imaginings and legendary fancy not only returned to me, but came back with purpose.

I realize now that this is all too familiar... and also that they are a great flaw, a POX in our strategem to get famous and see the world BURN...
They are also my greatest strength and somewhere between those two things is the person I USED to be. He's got no idea which idea is right, and neither do the fucking rest of us, so he just curls those knees to his chest and hopes everybody goes away.


I talked with her again tonight, THAT ONE. She is an amazing thing. A beautiful creature and spinner of yarns most fine. She swings the truth around like it were a goddamned machete and she's not sorry for it. She shouldn't be. She's an assassin, she murders with genuousness. I know. I write these for every girl and maybe they lose thier grit with you guys... but I don't write them for you. I write them for ME. I'm de-railing the thought train I know, but there is something about the imprisoning quality of words. Especially unedited. Something pure and truthful and boundless, that can unlock my remembering and re-grant me my stupid, stinky humanity.

Now, back to the show. Firstly, she asked me the question... and I know. I promised I'd never answer that shit again. Not EVER not to one of THEM. But full disclosure and all, right? Anyhow, I told her that yes I was actually waiting for somebody, not ANYBODY before I engaged in THAT particular activity. We talked about it and about the actual philosophy behind it and what point there'd actually be a re-evaluation of it, or at what point I would've found that person. There was a point where I asked her whether or not she thought that was a bad thing, or whether she attatched a negative connotation to it, you know? For me it is the number one ruiner of relationships. ALL of them, save one, for better or worse met their end at the hands of this self-same issue. She said that she respected it. They all do.. It's the sort of thing a girl... or all girls will say she respects. Hell, most people would. It's the kind of thing we're taught to say. She started making moves toward letting me down, but stopped a little short. Maybe facing a couple of morality clauses she felt obligated to honor for somebody she 'respected'. But when you get right down to brass tacks, that seems to be where it starts falling apart.

I mean, who wants to fuck somebody they respect? Let-alone WAIT to fuck them?

Damn this sexy body.

It's been enough to make me re-evaluate the whole thing every minute of ever goddamed day. Maybe I'm only on this fools errand to prove some kind of point that doesn't need proving. Or to find somebody that probably doesn't even exist to spite some(read:THAT) cheating whore.

I am damned... but that is neither here nor there.


So, in leiu of NOT being blown off, and actually having a good and open conversation with such a FEMININE creature. The tiny matter (read: GIGANTIC PROBLEM) of her dating a lot of other came sauntering back into my mind-brain after a night of hard ridin' and hard drinkin at the local country western bar. Stuck, for ideas and caught up in that fuzzy feely tumoult... and even WORSE, smitten. I did the only thing I could think of. I called her on it. She was frank and genuine about it, as she is with all things. She's 'Taking her mothers advice' she said. She "doesn't have another ten years in her" if she picks wrong and gets stuck with a dud she will undoubtedly try and transmogrify into a STUD. I can't describe to you how frank, honest and matter-of-fact it was. It was as if she'd taken me by my idiot hand led me to a window and POINTED to it. "There it is" she'd say. Before adjusting my mittens putting on my scarf and sending me out to make friends with it. We talked some more and things went well. I could already feel the stirring of those things. Those verbose and romantical TERRORIST rabbits that still live in my wild places. Ever ready to run away with me, should I let my guard down. This is someone I can't STOP knowing. This is someone I want to WANT to know me... I looked up and I saw a pale horse and on its back it bore my heart. My tyrannical cyborg heart from the future. It raised a golden scimitar to my throat and hissed:

SWEAR FEALTY TO ME OR PERISH!

... I asked her out again for this weekend.

And I'm right back where I started. Knowing full well that everything I do is going to be compared to the things that some theoretical grab-ass is going to do at some non-disclosed point in the future. Notes will be taken. Points ACCRUED. I'm in no way a patient enough man for dating in this fashion. I know this... all too well and from experience. And I can't let her go... I have to see behind the eyes, I have to SEE it. Still, I ask for no pities. No sonnets about he who loved to oft and too large. I like her too much to know better. I am a fool and this is a fool's errand. A suicide mission. There will be no victory for I am already UNDONE.

A haiku WOULD be nice though... just sayin'

And here we are. Back at the beginning.

I'm fucking retarded