Current Musical Selection: STP - Sex Type Thing

i am, i am, i am, i said i wanna get next to you; i said im gonna get close to you... you wouldnt wanna have me have to hurt ya too? hurtcha too? i aint, i aint, i aint a buyin your apathy, im gonna learn ya my philosophy; wanna learn about atrocity? i know you want whats on my mind, i know you like whats on my mind, i know it eats you up inside, i know you know, you know. i am a man, a man, ill give ya something ya wont forget, i said ya shount have worn that dress, i said ya shoulnt have worn that dress. here i come, i come, i come. i am, i am, i am, i said i wanna get next to you; i said im gonna get close to you...

not sure what to make of it. the last week has been magical hookup week. honestly, i dont think there has been any person left out of this vicious onslaught. some people, three nights in a row now; others just decide to sleep with random people, some get walked home the next day; and im sure there are others just waiting in the wings from what i know. its chaos. part of me says thats nice, go them.. the sensible part of me doesnt like this... any of this. these are all people who work for me. the minute any of this shit starts to go south, i then get to inherit infighting, attitude and disgruntled uncomfortable silence between people. im not looking forward to it, and the day is comming. its gotten so bad, im to the point that im not even able to keep score. in the begining i could, now im just lost; it seems like everything is just comming out of the woodwork. there has got to and end to this all... really, im running out of employees! all i have left are 2 that are untouched by this... one i can only assume is lodged into his own, non office pool, of whatever; the other doesnt seem to be too concerend with it all.... hes the one im scared of. next ill hear one of them is after him. its not right.

i actually got to sleep last night. for anyone that might not know; i had been up continuously since about 8am Tuesday morning; lasting until about 3am Saturday morning, with only a brief 4 hour interlude where i litteraly blacked out on the couch. ive really only pushed myself farther once in my life. im not proud to say it, but i know that im capable of staying up for about 4 days... this was really getting difficult for me to do, but it was very hard to get to sleep when i did. jamie is right; id probably punished my brain so much for trying to sleep, it just wouldnt allow its self to shut down. i scare myself with that kind of will power and conditioning. look at it this way, what if i channeled that into something useful? yeah. that what scares me. instead, i forced myself to do, really, 3 weeks worth of work in one... two major papers, a major presentation, 3 lesser papers, and still only missed 1 class the whole week... plus managed to take care of all the fruit basket everything, have a house meeting, 3 meetings outside the scope, interview potential university president over lunch, and manage to disappear for several hours, 60 miles away on a whim. busy week.

not much else is going on. nothing has changed. nothing will change. change is gone. reality is the name of the game. the reality is ive changed. notice the lack of blue webpage now? i thought black was better. i thought my words might stand out from the page now, rather than blend in. i blend in as it is, and im tired of noticing that. tired of getting placed in the same old groups. label them what you will; 'just a friend' 'poor student' 'non-motivated' 'mean' fuckem all. ive got nothing to prove any more, ive got nothing to sell, ive got nothing to make me do more than i should. i found that lately ive been spending alot of time by myself. some of you have asked about it, i guess i dont have an answer. i guess i dont care all that much, ive never felt that ive needed people around me... ive never felt the need to be wealthy by people. but then again, i think ive been 'feeling' too much lately. ive been thinking too much, ive been feeling too much, ive been wanting too much. maybe its just that people make me sick. people drag me down, and sometimes they push me, the push until they bring out the worst in me. its aggrivating. its frustrating to feel yourself lose your grip on everything, to watch yourself slipping. to be able to remember when everything was squarely in front of you, and now its all on its side, flowing all over the ground.

so not only have i been rather sleep deprived and anti-social of late; ive also felt pretty useless as it comes to women. the current weeks state of affiars isnt helping much, i might add. again, i suppose its all well and good for all of these people to be finding each other... aside from some of the match-ups being slightly creepy and unforseen, generally these are people whom id have said are probably due for someone. not to slam them, but i think each is probably difficutl to match to someone else, i suppose its a good thing that theve been able to find people which they are comfortable around and possibly more forgiving of all the lesser faults we have, and maybe, just maybe, they are much more appreciative of the nicer sides of us all. its hard not to feel left out in it all. not only do you get the obvious, 'i want mine too' when it comes to distributing signifficant-others; but ive noticed the pool of friends has dwindled since all of this started happening. even the group of us hardcore friends on the floor have really started to break up... id say theres about 3 major factions now, 1 is fairly tight, 1 is fairly loose, the third is made up of loose ends. seems that the 2nd group is starting to diminish, and the rest of us leftovers are really having to fend for ourselves. not to mention; once all this other group madness started to occur, there was alot of intermingling and movement across groups-- with the advent of the dating game, weve now adjusted down the ranks, everyone seems to be pairing off or staying in groups of 3s. but not me. i dont know why; but, i feel like ive gotten left behind in the dust cloud. not that it matters i guess. none of this is intentional id imagine, and its probably better off... little bit of natural selection to shake down the genetic tree i suppose, and who did that ever hurt? ive been eating some meals alone; something i tried to reserve to days when im uber busy or just non-sociable; past week or so its not been by choice. again, i guess i dont really care. its just odd to see it all change like this so fast. its differnt now. its different when i see these people together. maybe im in the wrong, but i quickly get the impression that being around me, is not a priority. its kinda... i dunno.. its weird to feel left out for things. its weird knowing that things have changed--focus and attention have changed-- since a week ago. some people ive known for years now, just lately seem like total strangers. and now total strangers have just been thrust into the mix as full equals for the group. its feeling like youve been replaced, and youre still standing there when they picked new teams. one of those indirect ways of letting you know you can just go home. teams are full. no one picked you. anyway, game on. i suppose you can sit out and watch us play. and thats kinda what its like.

for those of you that keep score, ive had another wonderful dream thats been pretty re-occuring lately. sometimes it repeats its self, sometimes it starts in different places, and sometimes its a continuance, but its all along the same lines. i really dont know why i get these things anymore. i used to be good about sleeping. i used to have good dreams. i dont anymore. i dont sleep worth a shit, and if i do, its been in the afternoons, when i shouldnt be sleeping. the dreams have gotten more vivid lately... and im not talking porno. like with some of the others, i really remember what happens, and more and more, im remember how i feel as it all goes on. i never used to.. i never used to get feelings in dreams. they always used to be something cool, like screwing a Playmate of the Year, or playing ball with your favorite Major Leaguer. they are all dark now. they all have little hope of anything good happening them, and they never end well... thats what been waking me up lately at night. waking up from some of these things makes it very difficult to go back to sleep, so i havent some nights. some nights i just sit in the dark and look out the window. sometimes i just do something idle, ill bounce a ball, or swing my keys around, but ill sit there for hours just thinking of it all, in the dark. im sure its not healthy. hopefully alot of this subsides before i go home; really the last thing i want to deal with is my parents getting involved. dont get me wrong, i respect their opinions, and i trust them and their judgements... just at this point i dont even know whats wrong. i dont even know why i share some of this kinda shit anymore, i really dont.

dreams are only what you want to make of them, and i know theres something in it all worth thinking about. i wonder what its all supposed to mean, and what its supposed to point me to. lots of cultures tend to think that dreams are a way of fortelling the future, in a cryptic way. so far, about all i can tell is it looks like im going to die. it looks like im giong to die in a state in life, where it doesnt look like im all that happy with where i ended up. yep, sounds reaaaal farfetched. fuck, that could be any day now, as far as things seem to be going for me. but i suppose its not. i suppose its not going to happen for a while. i hope not atleast. but the dreams arent nice to me, that goes without saying. this one seemed to go with the last one i wrote about. ill spare the details. its really not important, and im sure you dont want to know, but all i know is i wake up in a cold stone cell. its dark. its mildy damp. its humid, but the stone is cold. i cant move my legs well. my fingers dont respond right. my head hurts alot. one eye is swelled shut. and theres a deep ache everytime i try to breathe. without warning, a door is opened; bright light blinds me, and people speaking languages i dont understand, haul me out. its time to get beaten again. they usually just kick, punch sometimes too. they had some sort of stick or cane, but they broke that. they usually keep going until one of them is too tired to do it anymore. then they like to talk to me. in broken english, air hanging witih stale cigarette smoke; they ask me questions that i dont know anything about. they think i do. they think hitting me makes me remember. it tends not to. it goes on like that. eventually they try to smile, and be nice to me. they try to get me to tell them the answers they want; to questions ive never heard. its funny. the broken jaw keeps me from laughing about it. although im not really sure its broken; once after i didnt wake up for a few days, they brought a doctor to see me. he said he couldnt tell if it was broken, or just horribly dislocated... there was too much swelling and bleeding to tell without xrays. they like to tell me things. they tell my about how my world on the outside has fallen apart. they like to tell me that my country will soon be gone. but. since they like me, if i cooperate with them, theyd help get me a job in their country. they like how weve become such great friends. they tell me theyd like to do as the americans do, and 'have a beer sometime' together. they dont drink tho. probably against the religion. whatver the hell it is. they usually hit the back of my head when i dont pay attention or start to blank out. it helps me to concentrate they say. they show me maps of areas ive never heard of, then they show me pictures of stuff i dont remember seeing. they are looking for something, and they ask their friend to help find it. i suppose im not a good friend. eventually they get tired of me, and one of them drags me back to my cell... where i get to lay in a pile, until they decide to come see me. there used to be other people there. at first, you could hear them scream, or refuse to talk. anymore its relatively quiet around here. i was never allowed to talk to anyone. the only time ive ever seen someone else was when they threw a body on top of me. they told me the hotel was double booked. then they laughed. the worst comes when they try to break everything about you.. and its hard to tell what that would entail, when i really dont know whats going on, or where i am. its the most surreal when they play me tape recordings, and read me letters. they say the letters are from home, and they say the voice is from someone i know. i noticed that when i told them they were wrong, the next day it would be a different voice, and a different name. the letters would change too. once they got a name right, they changed what the letters were about. i suppose it took a week or so... i cant really tell how long; but theyve got me down cold now. they have the name or two, with a voice thats kinda similar, but not really. they make me think about things that arent true. they read me letters from some girls that profess love to me. i know better. then they write me things about how they miss me, and how they want me to be home. its probably a lie too. the stories continue. eventually i cant remember whats real and whats not. its a cruel game really. im at the point where i start to believe the lies they tell me. i start to believe it like they are true. i start to believe that these girls actually do want me, and actually do write nice things to me. but its all lies. eventually the letters get angrier. sometimes they start picking at me. sometimes, they start telling me how they dont like me, how im a horrible person, how ill never find a person to replace them, and how ill allways regret screwing this all up. maybe theres lies in there. but thats how it continues. its allways dark colored. never anything light. only the pale yellow light from the lamp that hangs in the room where my friends are. sometimes a smaller desk light is on by a chair in the corner; that how i know ive gotten mail or a tape from home. but the dream just goes in and out. sometimes they last a while. sometimes they dont. sometimes i think im having a new dream- a better dream, until in the dream im woken up by the sounds of myself being beaten mercilessly. sometimes i can feel it. sometimes i cant. sometimes those are the dreams that wake me up at night, and keep me from sleeping. i used to have pleasant dreams. now i dream of wars, i dream of physical punishment, i dream of emotional angst, i dream of people beseiging me for who i am, i dream of solitude and pain. sometimes i dont. sometimes nothing happens; alot of times i just sleep, and i remember nothing when i wake up. but sometimes i get dreams like that. sometimes its hard for me to tell whats the dream, and whats not.

ain't fun~
s.

Current Musical Selection: GnR - Knockin on Heaven's Door [new live rendition from the tour!]

mellow, in a word. the new rendition that ive been playing the hell out of the past few days is nothing but mellow. back in the early 1990s, when GnR was the biggest and most dangerous band in the world [according to journalists; NOT themselves], this Bob Dylan cover rocked the arenas and venues of the globe with a ferocity rarely seen from such a simple, bastardized reggae song. They threw in the speed and style of GnR, and just amped up to all hell, and let it go. But now, its a new age; and its a new band. One of Axls goals is obviously to separate himself, and his new band from the past.. this song does it. At points, its reminiscent of the old tune.... some parts i can hear the true Axl bleed through; but mostly its new to me... its different... its mellow. Where as the former version reflected the jaded and raucus lifestiles of the times, the new song is much more pleasant to the ear. Its all about change.

I never been one to show much emotion... and ive probably mentioned something about all that here before. Sometimes thats not a good thing. Lately it hasnt been. Several have been reading just this, and attempting to extend that im nothing but unhappy and suicidal. I think we all know thats not true, whether or not i exhibit it correctly. I suppose, Im not a happy person- and i have never claimed to be; likely never will Happiness is relative to me. Happiness could be a new video game; it could be scoring a phone number from a girl in lecture; it could be sleeping in some morning; and it could be a night where people dont ask me stupid things. Happiness isnt a unifying property. Happiness is and can be many things; of many levels and intensities. To me, happiness is rankable, getting my haircut when it looks bad... minor happiness, of moderate duration. Somehow winning the lottery; major happiness, major duration. Getting a girl to go out with me; major happiness, moderate duration. Sleeping in late; minor happiness, minor duration. None of which really are permanent, none of which are overly life changing. None of which would change who I am, Id hope. But appearantly, Im told I should be happy more often. Im not happy enough I guess. Which is odd, none of the above have occurred lately; so in my mind Im not seeing much to be happy about. Rather, Im not seeing how my mood should adjust arbitrarily for lack of stimulating circumstances; for no reason than 'just to be happy.' Im a different breed that way; I require a reason to act a certain way.

Reasons are interesting too. Reasons give you grounds to do something, and appearantly to feel a certain way. Ive got reasons not to be happy. Ive got reasons not trust people, Ive got reasons why I dont go to class. But what gets to me; is how all of you insist that I dont need reasons to be happy. Im not against happy; but its got to be for some reason, no different than being sad. You all appearantly still think that I should just ignore what makes me 'sad' or 'poopy' as youve put it, in the idea of becomming 'happy' or 'non-poopy.' I say to you: give me a reason to be happy! Give me reason to not have horrible dreams, give me a reason to have pleasant ones. Give me a reason to have hope; and better yet, give me something to make me happy in the here and now, that will elimante a need for hope, as Id need nothing else to be happy to hope to. Instead, I see the reasons why I should not be happy. I see the reasons why I should remain frustrated, cold, and alone. I dont see you and your reasons aiding me. I see them hindering me.

But as I said, Im not so good at showing my emotion. I tell it. I hint at it. But I do not put it on exibit. I think I am easy to read. I think I am honest. Appearantly I am not. Reading the words I have written, I feel everything is there, but none seem to catch on to it. So you continue to ask me what is wrong, why am I 'sad' ? I am sad because I am denied of that which would make me happy. So what? What is new about that? My life is generally one chain of dissappointments, of greater and lesser intensity; with a sparse occasion of success. All in all, Im pleased with my self if I can manage to remain neutral through it all, much less 'happy'

I think back on it all, and remember the faces and places where I should have been brought down... maybe now is one of those times, and maybe it isnt. But now is a time where its difficult for me to maintain the neutrality of feeling throughout it all. Now is a time when it does affect me negatively. It affects me personally. Its me thats negative. Not in a sense of happy v. sad. But in a sense of me being the lesser of two choices, me as captain bringdown, me as not the attractive option; as the negative one. But that too, is not unusal for me; not unusal for being me. Its the context you put it in. Its the surrounding issues that make it worse. Its the people that exist and the things they say to you, that make you sad. Its the way they dont even acknowledge you, and just naively blow you by when you have something to say, that makes it negative.

I doubt that people ever truely know what they do, and maybe its not right of me to hold this against them, as they wouldnt know. Only a handfull of times have i ever expressed any feelings for a female that were stronger than 'hey, how are you doing.' Only for a few, have I ever felt that they, above and beyond the others, the friends, the allies, the aquaintences, that they mean something more to me than the average person. Most of them are just a close friends. Only once in my life have I ever admitted to loving another. She meant alot to me. As Ive said here before, she shouldnt have. She made me interested, she made me feel. She was the one that truely awoke a sense inside of me, that was destined to feel for someone else; a sense of me that wanted to be with someone else. For that, I dont think I will ever truely wish to forget her. Some of you have pestered me with questions about being over her... my answer is never. I never want to be over that feeling of having and wanting someone else, I liked it too much. A better question, Do I feel that she and I are over for good? Yes I do. Do I wish that I could have just her back? Not necessarily. What I do wish to have back is that feeling-- that sense of having someone; but does it have to be her, specifically? No. People think its sad for me to be hooked on her still, eventhough its just the feeling that im still 'hooked' on.

Not long ago, I did something uncharacteristic for me. I admitted feeling for another person. I admitted that I felt something more than just the obligatory 'hey, how ya doin' I thought i felt something, but I dont know what I feel now. I do know that they mean more to me than the average person. Unfortunately, it doesnt appear to be the case in return. Once again, I have become the negative outcome; as I clearly wasnt so great, to be met with anything but naievety and discontent. Im moderately new at this game; but I can guess this isnt the way it ought to be met; I can guess its not how a 'happy' thing would occur. I also cant say that every other time Ive ever mentioned anything like this I was met with open arms. In fact, many times I was told harsh and negative things in return. Ive always been the butt of jokes following something like this; or the one that gets sneered at, or just the normal cold shoulder treatment. The one time in my life where I told someone I loved them, I was yelled at for it. And here I've gone and done it again. So none of this is really stable ground that I stand on. To me, love is not a common word. Love is not a word I use often; much like hate, its a word I reserve to describe the most deserving of circumstances. To me, if I love you, I guess your pretty well set, because its not a word I'll take back- its not a feeling, an emotion, a state of mind, that I'll take back. Its not meant to be. For me, love is more or less unconditional, save something extreme; its something that makes you a priority in my life... like my parents, like some of my friends. If i love you, I dont want to be laughed at or denied. So why do I regeret it now? Why am I glad that they probably never noticed it? Because I shouldnt be. Its guilty of me to want that; I dont... but. nothing of what I know seems to make much sense. I dont even know what all I think. There are honestly sometimes where I feel that I could almost want to have something more than friendship with them, and times like I couldnt fathom wanting to talk to someone like that.

Lately my entries have been my lamentation over my desire to proceed with my gut feeling, knowing my prior 'convictions'; and so I went through with it. They may never know, or may only think of it in retrospect-- even then probably only by reading this; but I said several things, that from me, were very uncharacteristic. I noticed them. I noticed myself saying them, and often I quitely punished myself for it; knowing what it would eventually bring. And it did. A few days ago, I tried to explain, in my terms, that someone else mattered to me, more so than just ordinary people. I sincerely doubt I was ever heard. My words were gibberish and distracting to them; and my attempted message was nothing more than aggrivation. I knew they would be. I knew I would never be followed on what I had to say. I knew my words would not be received kindly and with admiration, I knew to expect resentment and possible rejection. And still it upset me. So I attempted someway of putting it non-verbally. Putting it in a way which may show, rather than tell, what I was thinking. I think it too was a bust. Shouldnt have to argue or send go-betweens for feelings. It shouldnt have to be frustrating and complex.

For what it means, Im not happy for several reasons. Obviously, but to lesser degrees, Im upset that relationship does not appear to be reciprical in nature. More importantly, the words were never allowed to come out that could prove anything one way or another. What-- to me-- was most, and is most frustrating and upsetting was the ability I felt at ease with to tell this person; but the appearant difficulty it required for them to receive it [if at all]. Nothing is more damaging than talking to someone who wont listen. I would much rather spend my time in a room full of angry people that dislike me, but will listen to me; then to spend a few minutes in a room with one person who will not listen to a word I say. I say this, because I dont make things as obvious as other people do... and should I finally feel the need to voice my concerns, I feel as though I should be listened to. Instead I think I was met with inattentiveness and blanket disregard for anything I might have said. Its difficult for me to deal with that. Its difficult to want to say to someone what youve wanted to say, and have them not listen. Its very difficult for me to say anything to someone, when they try to argue your points with them, when your intention was only informative. Its difficult for me, because i dont do it very often.

For me, giving a compliment likely shows 10 times what was stated; and for me to tell someone what I had wanted to say, from me, would speak volumes. I dont understand why people dont want to hear me, why someone wouldnt want to hear me. Then all I have to do is look down, and realize that its me. Another 'sad' thought, you might say. Some of you might say Im being hard on myself, or that I should stop with comments like that... oddly enough, you are all the people that would say the things to me, that make me feel that way. But nothing is sacred, not even I. All I have to do is realize that the reason why no one would want to hear anything I have to say, is because I am Scott. Scott is everything that is repulsive and wrong about living life. Scott is solitary, Scott is hardline right-wing, Scott is for killing people, and Scott is for cutting taxes. Scott is fascinated by weapons and warfare, and Scott to-the-point. Scott isnt attractive, Scotts not cute or desireable in appearance or a physical sense. Hell Scott doesnt even blip on the radar. Scott doesnt care for your popular culture, and Scott abohrs your musical taste. Scott has nothing in common with you, does he? Scotts got nothing that would persuade you, hes just the bad seed, the evil. Scott just has nothing you would like. So we treat him that way. We are cold, and deceitful. We lie to Scott, and we keep Scott from becoming anything more than distant. We get Scott to hear us out, then tell him to shut up when he wants someone to talk to. We laugh at what Scott says, we think 'oh geez' theres a problem if Scott wants to get close to us. We want Scott to be nothing more than something we can turn off when we want to. We want Scott to be devoid of all feelings. We want to keep Scott from becoming someone for us; we just want to use him up. Lets just let him sit out and rot, let all the vile blackness that we spit on him, just stay there. We make Scott out to be something that doesnt matter to us; we allow Scott to become less than a person, and more of Scott; something with no value or signiffigance. For that reasoning, I suppose I too would find it hard to accept Scott for anything. I do wish, that I have become something other than Scott. I do wish I have become and actual person, not just something that responds to your instant messages, or someone that opens the mail. I hope Scott would become something to someone other than me. But i realize he hasnt. I realize, just like Scott does, that its not going to happen. Just as much as Scott may like to change all of that, it wont. Just as much as Scott wants it all to change, you try so hard to keep him reduced to nothing more than that. Something less than me. Something minus human.

Its hard for me to say where it all happened. Its not like I can sit and pinpoint exactly when I knew things were different for me; when it started to change inside. I can say there were several events that really triggered it all. But you wouldnt listen to me if i told you when they were. You wouldnt care why I did either. So my reasons just stay my own. I wanted to share them. I wanted to share something more than just words. But you all dont want me around. You dont want to have the person that could mean more, that could say more and do more; you all want to have Scott around. Scott isnt anything real. Scott isnt anything to worry about. We can say these things to Scott like hes not even sitting here! We can tell Scott to 'fuck off,' we can tell Scott anything we please, and know, that since hes only Scott, figment of our utility; there is no consequence that come with friendship, attentiveness and mutual care. Its just Scott afterall. No worries. No me's. Even if we let Scott become something more; what then? How do we treat someone like that? How do we allow ourselves to let a caring individual in on our lives; how do we expect to function if we allow him to care? Its Scott remember. Its no one you wanted in the first place. I suppose that makes it easier on you, doesnt it? If I spell it out they way you all want to think about it.

s.

Current Musical Selection: White Zombie - Thunderkiss '65

its time i stopped fucking around. its time i just cut back to my roots. enough of the shit in mylife. im really to the point that people can just go fuck themselves. you try, and you try, you bend and you give. you do your damndest to be understanding; to be accesable. and you get lied to. fuck it. no time for shit like that. im better off back in my cave, back by myself, then raking myself with hot coals again. ive spent way to much effort for this... ive spent too much of myself on this. for what? for more lies, more deception; more uncertainty; more shit. shits about all i see. everything is shit. everything turns to shit. the walls, the ground, the colors all swirl to brown. none of it seems worth anything to me anymore. everyday its just more frustration; more complication. im so tired. all i want are the simple things, and those are the things i am denied most. i want just to have someone. is that too much? does God or the universe really hate me so much to keep me from that? just for once i ask for a small stroke of good luck, a blessing, a ducksnort of opportunity. yet, i look and see nothing but despair and desolation. nothing but the blackness and deaths of the illfate, that litter the killing fields of my past, and the future is nothing but a bleak, grey gravel road that winds through it into the mist. nothing. nothing at all. so back to the roots. back to being who i used to be. back to be what i always was, but put on hold for all of this. back to when it was about loud fucking music... drugs and booze.. yeah. back when it all made sense. back when i didnt have to see reality. back when everything made sense. back when i didnt have to try and get rejected each time. back when it made sense to me. back when i didnt matter to me, it didnt matter that girls loathed me, that i was despised by those that had 2 x chromosomes.

ive learned that you can only try so hard, and only for so long before it really starts to dig in again. it crawls in your skin.. it works its way up your back, and into your dreams, it goes into your head, and it doesnt come out... its stays there. its always there, its there in your days and in your dreams, if feeds your words and fills your mind, but it never leaves. it never leaves you, because its all the same. each time is a little different than the last, but it all plays out the same in the end. but im so tired of the end. its a game to people. fuck with what i think; fuck with what i feel... call it a good time, have a few laughs at my expense. it gets old. somedays its comfortable. its warm blanket. its hope. its all the things you want it to be. its normality. its having a relationship with someone thats female thats not family. its all a joke. by now i should have learned how it works, but i havent. i sink back into it all again. i slide back into my old shoes, and for a few moments, tell myself that it might be different; that it might be genuine; that it might not be the same.... that i might have one this time. but its not. i have to lie to myself sometimes. i have to lie to make it through the day sometimes; because if i didnt, it would get to me more than it does. recently it has. i dont know why im sharing any of this... because i still havent shared what ive wanted to say. i dont think i ever will. i think... i think its too soon for me to do that. i think several of my loyal viewers know the truth, and id imagine those of you that are quick of wit will figure it out. but for the rest of you; i cant say it in exact terms. all i can say is i miss having a normal relationship. i miss being able to say i have a girlfriend. i miss having someone to call me, just to talk to me. i miss having someone worry about me if i go out. i miss having someone buy me presents on my birthday. i miss having someone that takes me seriously. i miss someone who just wants to stay at home with me on friday nights. i miss being normal. i miss having a normal relationship. and i envy you all that have that. i envy that you all can have what i cannot, and it all comes so easily to you; and for me, its a struggle, that only ends in emptiness and frustrations.

last night i hardly slept at all. last night i had another monster of a dream that just wouldnt leave me. it was so simple that it scared me. i find myself in a tent, with soldiers. im dressed as one, and for once i realize im me in a dream, and not someone else. i look around and theres maybe a dozen other men my age, sitting around, talking and smoking. they are talking about tomorrow, about some big assult, and about our odds. one by one, we all talk about death, and about how each of us are going to cheat it when the sunrises. several of them dont seem to believe themselves. someone changes the subject. they all start talking about what they are going to do when they get out, when they can go home. they all start taking out pictures of girls and women from home. one is married, a couple have kids.. all of them have a picture of someone, and a story to go with. all of them have beautiful women that honestly sound like theyve got alot to go home to. they get to me. and i have none. i have no story. i have no picture. they think im bullshitting them. i pull out my wallet and open it. theres no money in it, and it just flops open where the bills should be. and i stare at it.. like a big empty void. then i throw it down on the ground. they go through it, even to my disgust. one by one the comments start. all of them think i should have a picutre with me. one man says it should be my reason for living through all of this, my reason for survival. and i have nothing. i finally stop, breakdown, and tell them about some of the girls back home.. just to staunch the flow of comments. each story is true, and is about a girl that i thought meant alot to me. they are all excited to hear the story, they cheer along at times and whistle, but the ending allways kills it. i tell them that i have nothing. they all look away or avert their gazes. the look at me, just not in the eyes... like how you look wearily at someone you cant respect, that cant be an equal; like how you look at a stray dog, or a crippled woman; the misery and the contempty you attach to their appearance, but you cant translate it to their eyes. thats how i was being looked at. one man says 'so just what are you here for anyways?' i tell him that im just here to fight a war. they all laugh. he corrects me, 'what do you think youre here for, whats youre life for if you havent got someone to share it with?' and i cant answer him. it burns in my throat. i can feel my face tighten up. but i still cant answer him.

even now when i think about the dream, i cant answer the man.