i am just rambling....
2002-12-30 ~ 1:27 a.m.

that was a funny fucking voicemail i just got.

'doing the countdown with mouse...'

i was laughing out loud.

ahhh, so to be here again...

big news is that we now own www.debbiedoessues.com (it is not up yet)

her premier will be this week. i need to finish the mini movie.

so anyway...

i want it...

to let it down...

this night is heavy with a clean combination of the bittersweet...

to rip my heart off my sleeve and take it back with me in to some snug little cave somewhere...or perhaps get a chain for it.

but tis like i said...

i won't, can't, i refuse.

even when i beg...stilted on bended knee.

i still refuse.

tonight i was almost too laid back for the bar...thinking i had my fair share of beer, and then a few more.

trey came out with us, but alas...had to jet early on.

hot sexy bartender/singer chick and the sex goddess sang tonight...as it is sunday. rather, it was sunday.

and i know my comrade wants stories...

and stories i will provide tomorrow, i hope. (there really aren't any stories) but hot sexy bartender/singer chick stopped at the table passing through and put her hand on my shoulder and commented about dinner last night and was very sweet. we got new and scandalous footage of debbie with all kinds and types of people...and debbie singing with the band...and so on and so forth. let's see...debbie started the evening in heidi's shirt, was caught in several laps, and even got to sing with the whole band. debbie is the woman. quote for the night is "it's not a lesbian gathering till there's arm wrestling"...and it has something to do with hsb/sc beating mia, mia beating gloria, and thereby declaring hsb/sc the ultimate victor. and as i have previously stated...mouse beat me fair and square. i am thinking that quote has merit.

i am going to let the ip address glue itself to the domain name and get debbie set up for tomorrow...

but now.

now i am going to self medicate and fade in to the blue depths of my madness.

and kel...i wish i had gotten to see you. i will try to call tomorrow if it is not too late to catch you before you are bound for france, yet again...you are missed and wished well. very missed.

there was a reason i left my apartment standing wide open at all hours back at the polo club...you and hester and the orange juice and the guitar...it has never been better for me.

i know without doubt how lucky i am to have friends like we do.

but now, please, no.

don't knock at my door. squeaking on busted hinges and scraping the tile.

if i am nothing, i do not have to be your everything.

can you hold your own head above the water? can you tug and toy? is the playing field level?

l...l...le...l...le...level.

how weak can i admit to being without it being held against me in some other diary, somewhere?

and why is it even considered a weakness?

*stwisted smile*

to want to be wanted.

but what would i know of such things? *smirk*

on the other hand, the left one...

i know loss. i know grief. paint me green and stand me in the corner like the jaded motherfucking coat rack i am...i am nothing that i want to be any longer.

and somewhere within me i need to find the part of me that knew with certainty that i could do anything.

because we can.

but to want to be wanted? i am spending thousands of dollars on therapy for that...

and this made twice i have been too needy.

yeah...

..."i know the pieces fit...there was a time that the pieces fit...but i watched them fall away..."

i have hated every step of this journey with burning fury and raging passion...

but i am thankful for the lessons this year. it hurts me to say it, but it is true.

strum it baby, make me feel it. feel me.

feel it all. that overwhelming abundance of emotion...

the stuff that sweat stains and tangles the sheets where bodies laid entwined. where some still do.

how dare you underestimate me?

even when i know nothing else, i know how to care. to a fault.

i got distracted...

and my mind visited some odd places...

it is that song...the one that spirals me...

i wish, right now, that i could hear my little mexican sing the kermit song.

took 43 pictures tonight...let's see what we have.

.............

gods, i want to type...pound it out on these keys. and it feels so...forced.

as if my willing it to be could make it so. could make the words flow...

and i get sputtering, stumbling and stuttering fingers...hestitant to type anything at all.

*soft smile*

..."let's just fall inside and let every damn thing go...flow..."

good night*

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