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Friday, August 30th, 2002

Subject:Just let me feel
Time:1:40 pm.
I'm afraid.

To let it in?


What do you mean?

The feelings. *MY* feelings.

But how can they be your feelings? It happened to me.

There's no difference. I should be able to feel. I don't let myself because I'm scared.

What do you mean? You don't let yourself?

I'm frightened of your feelings. I'm afraid of being who you are; of your pain. That's what keeps up apart.
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Tuesday, July 9th, 2002

Time:9:05 pm.
Not once in my entire life has he been there for me. Not even an attempt.

First steps? nope.
Potty trained? nope.
First day of school? nope.
First fight in school? Good report cards? Bad report cards? First crush? Overnight stay at friends house? Roller skating? Knee scrapes? Tree climbing? Throwing baseballs around? Highs?, lows?, achievements?, failures?, depressions?, moments of glory?

nope. nope. nope. nope. nope. nope. nope. nope. nope. nope. nope. nope. nope. nope. nope. nope. nope. nope.

He, my grandmother and grandfather showed up for my H.S. graduation. Oh, also, he supplied my mother with $100 per month during the course of my childhood.

My grandmother (his mother) has nothing but derisive comments about the only man who was (my step-father). I guess she is bitter still about the breakup and divorce. Well, she's in denial. My father, her son, hid away from me my whole life. He basically pretended I didn't exist. In talking to him he explains that it would have made him "uncomfortable". I distinctly remember hearing him mention how he believed all anybody was trying to do in this world is to be comfortable. He didn't know how he could fit into my life, what with my step dad around and all. What does this mean? I cannot fathom it. How can you ignore the fact that you have a child? It's sort of a major event, isn't it? He must be a very screwed up person, right? He was a school music teacher for many years. That ended in a fireball of controversy concerning involvement with a recently graduated student (18 yo). Now he is a middle manager in a corporation, and quite successful by those sorts of measurements.

Is this really possible? Can this happen? You can just have children and it is meaningless? Or, even, an awkward inconvienence? I swear to you, I have lived my whole life and this concept has never dawned on me. I'm having a hard time believing this is possible. I've spent my life searching for some other explaination. Can this be?
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Time:12:28 am.
For two years we barely spoke and rarely saw each other. Feelings were so strong when they first came about. Well, she is emotional, was intense since she was a child. I do not know how one can burn so bright for so long. Where does the fuel come from, I constantly wonder? Nevermind that. There was enough energy there to keep me from any other emotional attachment for two years and I wanted that. She is in Atlanta, and we met in Savannah, which was the path of General Sherman in his march to the sea. From spite he turned and salted the earth. Just as in my romantic life these last years.

Now, what strange things can come about when one's love is far, but not dead. It's an unnatural circumstance if you consider it. Primitive man was not burdened with these concepts of time and space like we are. It's a subtle torture, but few realize this. Just being aware that your friends, your family, anybody you care about could go to a place far away -- but not death. It's limbo. It's numbness. And it is most unholy. Perhaps we all look to television and computers to shrink our world again, and will this be a balm? Yes, I digress.

The body yearns the worst. That is physical love -- touch. I know infant chimpanzees and humans alike will die if they aren't touched. Just touched! It is so important. We must touch to love, and strangely we must touch to let go. So, this is what I have been getting at. What happened was this: a proxy. And this was Meg. And all of my feelings-for-Laura had to go somewhere and she helped me with that. At what cost? I do not know, and I don't want to.

What a triumph it finally is when a single seed sprouts through that once salted earth. I am a naturalist and nothing delights me more than this network of life we are. Dandilions poking through crackling cement sidewalks represent a majestic triumph to me. I do not hate people or constructions, I just love nature all the more, and if it were my say, we could do away with asphalt altogether. But yet, I never thirsted for the forests and fields as I do living in the fears-made-of-walls.

Perspective is back because the view is beautiful again. All of it.
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Monday, July 8th, 2002

Time:11:12 pm.
To all the women in this world, alive in their beds, dreaming of their princes. Tonight I am alone with you. And all the tragedy in our lives is nothing but a storm at sea.
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Saturday, July 6th, 2002

Subject:where I'm at
Time:11:32 pm.
I'm here now. There are darts and guiness where I'm going. I shall stagger. I shall ache. I shall be lucid tonight, but foggy tommorrow. And groggy. But, hopefully, not too soggy.
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Sunday, May 19th, 2002

Time:11:29 pm.
I had a great idea, and I needed to do something to distract myself from re-reading all my favorite childrens stories to distract myself from thinking too much about the horrible prospect of death after life. I'm not too worried about it, but it's just that I'd rather spend all of my waking hours catalogueing the grains of sand in my pockets then stopping to dwell on it anymore.

Anyway I'm starting to think socialization just isn't for me. I mean, if it wasn't for constant woman leg humping urges, I think I'd be perfectly happy with all the lounging, eating and sleeping that make up the bulk of my life. I keep having urges to go out and make something of myself, maybe it's the not so subtle hints from my parents and my grandparents and siblings and friends and people I don't know very well and who I don't know at all. But I've never been one to care too much what other people think, unless I happen to agree with it.

I've been looking for work with all the zeal of a Jewish soldier going to confess to Hitler that he's been screwing around with his wife. The thought of having to sell my labor just to survive seems perfectly awful to me, although, I guess that's how things have worked since the very start of it all. It wasn't too different to be cro-magnon I guess, except we have health insurance and slightly more leisure time now. I mean, that's a lot, so I guess I should be happy about that.

Back to women though, I realized today that my big problem is I always go for the pretty ones, and the pretty ones are too much trouble. But what I'm most attracted to are really trampy women. I don't know if it's because they have such an open and progressive acceptance of human sexuality, or because they're just so damn easy. I can't figure that out, but I know I've always been attracted to them the most. In the past I had three significant relationships with a type of women you could probably call an "over-achiever", they were so talented and so intelligent and dressed so well and I absolutely couldn't stand them and I didn't even know how to act around them. I mean they were completely self-absorbed. But if I brought home the kind of woman I really like I think my mother would have a heart attack.
I live on the other side of the country from my parents and I think the real reason for it is so I could date the kinds of women that have made me the happiest. I know what you're thinking, but it's not just the sex. It's just they're so accepting and so giving. I feel like I can be natural around them and that makes me feel on top of things.
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Saturday, April 20th, 2002

Subject:University Apartment, Seattle, WA
Time:9:40 am.
Brain: floating, eyes: crusted, spirits: unexplicably high.
fear trumps anger, love trumps fear, nothing trumps love.

How are you so cold hearted?
I treat you like a queen
You cast me as your house boy
Love's not slavery
Love is no chore
Why can't you respect
the roll I'm here to play?
I'm not smitten
I move from compassion
If that's too cruel for you to bear
too bad.
you needed my help.
You're strong now
So, you want to move on.
And now I'm in your way.
Without one minute's tenderness.
I've got news for you
bad news for you
if you discard those who care for you
you lose everything you thought you gained.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Friday, April 19th, 2002

Subject:University Apartment, Seattle, WA
Time:10:59 am.
A strange episode with my ancestors.

I spoke several times this week with my Jewish grandmother, trying to convey to her the confusion I feel trying to reconcile myself between the Jewish beliefs and the Catholic beliefs that pervade my childhood despite the best intentions of my parents.

I want to be both, but it is almost impossible to not be neither. I have found my own center of spiritual/scientific beliefs. Beliefs must battle for dominance just like thoughts, and just like people. Trying to be a peacemaker is a worthwhile goal, but even if I create a sanctuary, I will never stop this cosmic roller coaster. And I certainly wouldn't want to.

Symbiosis. This is the basis for my relationships from now on. I swear.
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Friday, April 12th, 2002

Subject:University Apartment, Seattle, WA
Time:12:55 pm.
Listening to Ween and compulsively checking lj posts. My thoughts are lost to Meg, my parents, my heritige, and Nadia. My pants stink like stripper perfume and cigarette smoke.

The thought "I want to be a Rabbi" came to me in the shower. Nothing I do or think ever makes sense.
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Thursday, April 11th, 2002

Subject:Univeristy Apartment, Seattle, WA
Time:11:05 am.
I killed Meg. I cut her head off with a linolium knife and stuffed it in an old backpack a friend of mine lent me and I never returned. It was the only thing left for me since we couldn't communicate well and she was annoying me. I don't feel bad about it, but I am a little uneasy with how giddy I was during and just after the act.

I drove Beth and little baby Sophia up to to Laconnor, WA where there was an alleged tulip fesitval. But there were only a few daffodils. So we went to deception pass and threw rocks at the cresting waves.

Max sent me an email from California. He is shipping out in a week for Cambodia. A seafood company in Alaska sent a letter, which I received in his absence, granting him a position as a fish gutter. I expect he'll be delighted.

Is it wrong to have sexual fantasies about a woman I've just killed? If it's wrong, I don't want to be right.

Oh yeah, brothers Mike and Rob joined me for Northlake Tavern pizza and then Dante's foozball. We talked about how everpresent and supportive dad extremely much wasn't in our lives. Rob was indignant until he heard Mikes tale of Dad's woe after Mom left him and he tried, but failed to burn the house down and kill himself. Ah well, at least we can laugh about it now.
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Tuesday, April 2nd, 2002

Subject:University Apartment, Seattle
Time:6:14 pm.
I think I have to hate Meg. Maybe just for a while. Max looked small and trepidatious when I dropped him on the curb of Seatac Airport. I'm expecting email from a Cambodian internet cafe. I've felt off balance today; sexually, personality, etc. All this hate has to go somewhere. What can I do?

There has been a strange silence from Lori. Right when I need her most.
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Friday, March 29th, 2002

Subject:University Apartment, Seattle
Time:9:28 pm.
I'm faded, and not coherent enough to be confused. I don't know what to make of things. Meg wants to talk now. I specifically don't. I have lost a lot of myself, and my time while I lick these wounds. I don't approve. This is not acceptable.

My stomach aches from the Guiness last night. Tommorrow will be a party for Beth. I should have gotten her a gift. Wounded now --can't write.
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Subject:University Apartment, Seattle
Time:11:59 am.
I'm having a hard time staying honest right now. Things got fucked up between Meg and I. It's throwing my whole life off balance. I think I have learned to hate her. All I ever wanted was her trust, respect, and continued admiration. I see now what distance is needed for this to be possible. She wants so much more than she can possibly handle. And it is for me to keep away from her. She had come to depend on our relationship, for she had been using me. She had depended on me staying distant. She had depended on admiring me from afar, on wanting me but never getting. This is the basis of Meg and I. I thought she was a ripe fruit which I should pick. But she is still bitter, bitter, bitter. Less is more.
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Thursday, March 28th, 2002

Subject:University Apartment, Seattle, WA
Time:12:31 pm.
Josh is out and Meg is in. I spent two days holed up over there, stranded with car troubles. I fenced for Beth when Josh predictably showed up. I made up with Meg, sort of. Things will not ever be the same. I love being over there, although I must be very careful and aware at all times. I don't know what will happen next.

Nadia is coming to Seattle. I don't know what to make of this, but I am excited to meet her. Of all the ways I have contemplated suicide, she is one of the most compelling.

Max had wondered where I was, I later found out. I apologized for abandoning my post with no warning.
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Sunday, March 24th, 2002

Subject:University Apartment, Seattle, WA
Time:11:37 am.
Jakes Bar & Grill

Met with Meg last night. We agreed there were mistakes. Despite our intentions, we started to feel things. I never gave her enough credit, true. And I flipped out when she started with the wanting to leave things at my apartment. I didn't expect her to sleep with that guy. She pulled something away that I had come to really like. I was disgusted. But she's right in that it seemed like it was getting out of control. She felt out of control. So I understand. Still, romantically, we are dead. The thought of touching her that way now makes my stomach hurt. It's not really so much about trust as respect.


Nadia is doing well today. What a pleasure to talk with her.
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Saturday, March 23rd, 2002

Subject:University Apartment, Seattle, WA
Time:1:19 am.
At dinner the talking was awkward and immature. She had the manicotti. I told her I felt stupid. She thought foolish sounded better. Meg had asked, she told me. Should she call me? She wants the friendship to continue. But ugh, it's so disgusting. How could I think I wouldn't get attached? It's not flirting anymore alone in an apartment. Why? What's different? "Intentions", Beth told me.

What Meg did to me, I did to Beth, but some time ago. I thought she'd want to twist the dagger. "I wouldn't blame you for being delighted by this". Somehow she convinced me she wasn't, well, not much. We made it out of there to the Metro with ease. We saw E.T. and she's a very sentimental girl. There wasn't a dry eye on her face.

Not a peep out of Max tonight, but light was leaking under his door.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Friday, March 22nd, 2002

Subject:University District Apartment, Seattle, WA
Time:3:12 pm.

I haven't written of my life in a while. It's the longest period in a couple years, although I have been writing non-journalistically. Ok, I'm in Seattle. A lot has happened to me in the past few years, and I have come to realize I have forgotten some rather large details. I blame this on all the moving around. My human memory is too fragile to hold on to things without the reassurance and support of some patch of earth I have dug into. I have just spent an hour reading my old journals. Yeah, I have forgotten a lot. Ok, lets get going.


My heart is a dull ache and I have breathed comfortably for the first time in days. I relayed the story to Jill in Michigan. Actually, it lifted my spirits just talking with her for a while. I've felt closer to her progressively through our past four conversations in the last three months. I am wounded.

I'm disgusted she fucked him. Not Jill, Meg. I'm not even slightly surprised, and it kills me. Why go skipping through the mine field? Gleeful I was, to do it. It's terrifying to think that at some level I wanted to lose an arm or a leg. Or my heart. I feel hurt, and repulsed, but alive.

Max and I have begun a pattern of eating meals together most mornings and evenings. I wake up around 10:00 to hear him rustling in the shared kitchen, just beyond my door. He gave his notice with only two weeks remaining in this Month. Sophie has been dragging new candidates over every day. I shout philosophical truisms at him day and night, and he seems grateful. The other neighbors though, are perhaps a bit annoyed.

I haven't told Beth I'm not moving in. She didn't give me twenty days for notice, and I won't put Sophie in that position. I would feel disgraceful. I'd rather pay rent on both places, but I'm hoping I won't have to. Her immature boy-love-geek roomate Josh moves out on Sunday to commemorate her 22nd birthday. What a mess that has been.

I practiced Tai Chi and meditated this morning. I finally am beginning to feel relaxed again. I might miss Meg.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Monday, March 18th, 2002

Subject:Life in New Hampshire
Time:10:44 pm.
There were woods nearby, and a coast. I barely lived when I wasn't in them. I remember feeling like a ghost most of the time. Life was confusing to me then. My step-father hated me and I was always afraid of him. My mother ignored me when I didn't do as she pleased. I had two older brothers and they hated me too. They weren't my real brothers, and that made things worse. Most of the time I lied about my feelings. I pretended a lot to keep everybody happy. Most of the time I felt horrible.

My only solace was my imagination. I often made up friends or even whole towns of people. When I was in the woods I was no longer bound by modern times. The forest was a backdrop of limitless possibilities, and I was friends with trolls, wizards and fairies. As early as I can remember, I wanted girl in my life who would love me and understand me. I paid close attention to the proper actions of good men in stories and fairy tales. I practiced the role carefully in my mind. I paid very close attention to what the rules seemed to be, although I was often confused.

In school I watched other people carefully. From as early as the first day of school, I developed painful crushes on pretty girls in my class who did not understand me. I was terrified of opening myself emotionally. I felt numb most of the time.
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Sunday, March 17th, 2002

Subject:The tragedy of my birth
Time:11:18 pm.
I wish I was never born. To a woman who resented me. Who couldn't handle the burden of me. I hate being a weight around her neck. She who gave her wings so I would have life. Can I ever escape the crushing weight of that guilt? What can I ever accomplish to make my life so worthwhile that it can make up for hers?

What are the possibilities of youth? My own mother could have been a classical pianist. She could have been an executive. She could have lived her life like a trail of fire blazing across the face of this earth. She was young, talented, promising, intelligent. Why bear me and screw up everything?

My father could not contain her. She left him in her rage. She broke down all the walls that confined her. She severed all of the chains that bound her to those controlling people in her life. But she could not escape me. The grip I had on her heart could not be broken. My crying is her torment. My stomach is her occupation. My body is the object of her slavery. She has no life now outside of mine.

Why has the creator dedicated my life to her torment? How I have asked for this fate I do not know. If I had been a better child I could have died at birth. Or succumbed to a childhood disease. I could have killed myself in a thousand ways and freed her from her suffering. Instead, I lived and grew, suckling on her dying dreams. The world would not release us.
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