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4/13/04... If you have to ask me what talking shit about me means then you are probably doing it! OK, you are really going to act that juvenile I will spell it out for you. You don't know me and sometimes you assume you do and you can't keep your mouth closed. Stop making up stuff about me and spreading it around for attention. Do you have nothing to say? find something to say that has nothing to do with me, or that is not a complete lie about me for starters. Stop trying to aggravate me to a point where you would have something to actually worry about.

4/8/04.. Nice, it's finally been warm out I actually got stuff done today, like getting off a traffic violation and stuff.lots of cartoons today categorizing my music trying to get that action going on. you know the difference between a summit and a plummet? you never know which one it's going to be.

4/2/04... dam been such a waste lately but i feel like i am getting better. decided to not give that 'girl' satisfaction by letting her know how upset i am she bull shitted i was gonna pawn something of my ex's. i don't want her to make me into the monster she tries to make me out to be. this rain is getting me so down, need to get to school more often. Crying just wastes the time, just grind my teeth and remember the trouble was all mine.

mar22o4) sesquipedalian \ses-kwuh-puh-DAIL-yun\ adjective 1 : having many syllables : long *2 : using long words

The world is full of role players and players rolin'...

3/21/04 decisions are not made, they're lived. reveling in freedon when i can feel it, it's so good.

3/8/04 every direction feels worthless.

March 17, 04. Looking for someone who does not just talk about things all the time. I do the things people are afraid of then talk about it only if asked. There is a difference between dreams and fantasy, you have to make your dreams happen.

Been waiting for a class to start for awhile. Hopefully it will just be cancelled or in my head "cancelled". I'm in the Back Bay right now on St Patrick's Day, security everywhere though I don't know how much trouble can happen in the snow at 8AM. There's one homeless guy kinda drunk trying to manage a straight line of walk through the snow. That takes some dedicated Irishness to be wrecked and ruckusing so early. Survey says: good for that guy who actually gave all the over time paid cops placed half a block from on another to look straight ahead and survey the land. Catching someone so harmless may even get the officers promoted. It is too bad the guy had no money, he's homeless and whenether they question the homeless for any public display they always go through their things and ask, "Where did you get the money?" Where did you get the money?" Boston cops want everyone to deal drugs so they can just take any wad of bills from minorities and the uneducated about such things. On the street police officers have stopped me (personally for random things) Most homeless people want to stay out of trouble, and probably let it go and the officer take their money to avoid being searched further or give the officer any i he/she is obstructing a dam thing. Why dosen't the Boston Police thank the homeless everyday for giving the Boston Police someone to bother. And why not stop there? Mass is the only state where policemen have to be stationed in front of any construction site (again the stared-off staring donut run work). Guess what will go on in Boston forever? The Big Dig! Every Boston police officer should commend (send christmas cards atleast) to all the contractors and planners who have bungled this operation up so much that it will take forever. Think of all of those policemen who watch construction! They could be stopping rapes, chasing thiefs, figuring out (something) about the obvious recent gang and crime emergence and going into family neighborhoods that are not controlled enough to be safe for anyone unarmed after sundown. But those places are dangerous, didn't you know? Crime happens there. So now I can rest assured that the force of people in blue paid to be armed and serve are currently watching holes get filled on Huntington Avenue, stationed safely against dangerous ground just a mile away, dug again, filled, dug again... The officer leaves his post to go into Dunkin' Donuts again. I noticed he missed some great action with the hole, I think of filling him in.

March 16, 2004 Mentally pealing off labels. Yesterday I was having a manic intellectually superior delusional spree that eventually made me freak out. The way storms start and stop around Northeastern is awesome, people from out of New England are so confused. Listened intently to Metropolis Part 2 today. Finally snowed like it's supposed to. Looking for my optimism stash.

March 11, 2004

Everyone always thinks I am up to something, I feel like I am always being asked the wrong questions. It is a little scary that people think I have that much malice inside me directed at them. Do they feel that to me? Seriously! There's this uneasiness sometimes, people giving me looks like I am guilty of something. People should understand I have A LOT more to do than think of let alone Act to fuck up their life. expect nothing from me after you break that line. the things that bother you about me are false, you've never even confronted me with them to prove you have come that close to me. get over yourself, and when you see me know the thoughts in my head have nothing to do with you.

March 7, 2004 dizzy dizzy with your taste my words twirl, then twist to shape at once from my lips im telling you everything, anything at all. painting this space in time as Intimacy, this moment lethally potent and laced with infinity i draw you near to me i draw you me. our mouths melt negative space.

March 5, 2004, There's this lingering calm before the storm feeling that starts from the bottom of the mud soaked broken empty Listerine bottles to the top of the sky where the smog dissipates enough for clarity. I hope the alarms blowing off in my head are for what seems to be, or else I am really going nuts. Everyone seems distrustful and on edge, I don't feel like anyone has been themselves to others today. My whole inner soul feels provoked, as though someone has finally called my true name. Every thing I've said today seems to be influenced or influencing some culmative fantasy novel.

March(ing) straight to hell I am trying to work through an equation to salve myself, ease myself into the functionally foreign reality everyone seems to play with but me. I need to prove to myself that people are not bad, not something to loathe or help or inspire. I need to start working under the same auto pilot everyone else is on, I need to feel something from them, from being in a system. I should make a list, a logical, analyzed real list of all the reasons I should trust people and all of the reasons I really should not. Everyone tells me I will be better if I can trust people more, happier. I did not choose to see things this way, and I guess one of my problems is that I am usually happy that I did, no matter what degree of misery it pushes me to. People that want to help me, they tell me to forget, forget all that and be fresh. And of course I wish that, it's easier to get up in the morning and face the same streets if you could wipe your head clean like a chalkboard from the previous day's fears. It is hard to forget the tenants that hold one's reality, the experiences that create the tenants reaping costs so great the burden stings though I cannot remember why I was burned. No, I can't lose memories. Not right now, not until I can understand why I cannot be relieved of some of the pain. I wish I could forget my empirical experiences of people, realize their insignificance and deposit any information I learned from then in the "trash" file of my head. Empty it into open space, even better to a far away landfill. Open space, that is what I need. Opportunities like that are not open to the suffering, art can enhance our feelings, in every dimension not just better or worse. That only eases the momentum for awhile, the vastness orbitng within sublime for a treasured instant. The pursuit to manually dismantle the memories, it has led me to the darkest places I can imagine and all were necessary, essential. If I did not survive there would be nothing of me, my existence offers me everything, every moment I can bear to hold onto it. The confusion, it weighs more heavily each day it goes un noticed. Sometimes I have no hands to take off of it, most of the time I have to keep to myself. It seems I am waiting for something to heal inside of me. I don't feel like I am waiting I feel like I am searching, the momentum again, unforgiving and always just hidden enough from me to entice me on longer. Something deep within me still claiming me victim, despite time, apathy and maturity.

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