Van Halen, Coffee and Junk Food

My credit card company left an automated voice message on my work voice mail... if the devil is reading, give me a call, I'm ready to sell my soul.

I've moved my desk into an office suite (which I share with 5 others). I still have my cubicle walls, and my space is a bit larger than it was before. I think I like this new arrangement. Judy threw a ball at me, because I was being a smart-ass, and it almost hit me in the nut-sack. Yes, I think I'll like this...


Simple thoughts:
I think Jocelin is the sweetest person in the world
I want to cuddle with Ryn
Too much junk food is too much junk food
Van Halen reminds me of Willie and The Cure
My only goal is to make every moment perfect
Now... stop being moody

handicapped...

I like Danny.

There were times, as a child, when I thought I was retarded. I wondered why I wasn't in the special-ed classes. I actually thought that people were nice to me because they had to be nice to a kid who was mentally handicapped. Mrs. Berchum and Mr. Moss were both incredibly cruel teachers who destroyed anything resembling self-esteem that I might have had. On the last day of my stint in the third-grade, Berchum told me, "I passed you, but you'll never make it out of the fourth grade."

Fucking bitch. You never say that to a child. Ever.

In high-school, I had a huge crush on a Kathi G. I asked her out one evening, over the phone. She said no, "I'm washing my hair..."

I don't think Kathi was, or is a cruel person... although she would say other things later that hurt. She did ask me to walk with her at graduation. God, I was the happiest kid in the world.

Mr. Osborne would call me "Dud" in class during my senior year. I laughed, because I thought it was true... I was a dud.

I use to spend a lot of time hiding as a youth. I spent a lot of time hating myself, thinking the world was unreasonably cruel, thinking that I had no place to be.

That child still hides within me. He's still there. I can feel him some days, longing to be inside but feeling cold an worthless... on the outside looking in. He's only a shadow, a whisper from a lost voice, but he's still in there... always will be.

And, then there's Danny. I see that same pain in his eyes and it breaks me. I know what he means when he calls himself a "fucking asshole." I've cried those same tears... I too have tried to fit in, and felt the piercing pain of rejection.

Danny, my boy, it's not your fault. It's not your fault...

I hate suffering.

I like Danny.

(no subject)

I've been reading old l.j entries... the day before September 11th, i wrote:

"I'm Paranoid. Good ideas are dangerous when thoughtful people influence those who don't think. Violence scares me too. People are too quick in acting on impulse rather than allowing rational respect for each individual. I believe that the only way to truly change someone is to ask them to think about the issue. Listen and learn... and you, also may change along the way."

Old entries are weird.

I've got to close the library. I hope Ryn feels well enough to hang out. I've missed spending time with her this week... I'll just hold her as she sleeps, if she doesn't mind.