Today i am three and twenty. For this inillustrious occaison god gave me a very hot set on Suicide Girls (Kitty) and about four hours of unfilitered creativity. Which i only paritally squandered. I have notes and ideas and with any luck it will become a gift that has kept on giving. Especially since i am required to write a ten page piece in the next three weeks, and as of this morning i had all of seven words. "She made me less than i was". It should be noted i'm not unhappy with those words, i just nothing else to say beyond that.
I also got an email from il padre. i'll make no further comment here except that it wasn't not a good email, and my response, still fermenting, will not make things any better.

And now, in celebration, i'm either going to drink myself stupid or watch tv myself stupid. It really just depends on how much vodka i have.

I want to date a girl who's read more books than i have, read them in bed together, have arguments over dinner about who's more fucked up buddy or seymour.

I want to date a girl who believes something, who understands why i pretend to believe in foolish thing, because theres no wonder left in the world, and maybe if i pretend hard enough i'll actually believe some of it some day.

I want to date a girl who knows the city, who'll drag me to little hole in the wall bars, dilapitated coffee shops and hidden used book stores. i want to spend saturdays in bed, and sundays wandering the city.

i want a girl who's okay with the fact that i'm a geek, that i love sports night and west wing and witty banter. who won't ask why i'm fucked up, so i don't have to lie to her. i want to be wanted. i want a companion, not pre-drama good times.

i read somewhere once that loneliness was the defining quality of humanity.

My room smells like sushi. Its not a bad thing, but i'm thinking i should prolly throw out that tray of leftover tuna.

I started reading Dune again. I love this book. Science Fiction has a rep for being of inherantly lesser quality than other sorts. I don't get that. I've read just as much bad fiction as i have science fiction. I'll admit, when SciFi goes bad, it goes REALLY bad, but that fails to convince me why its not given respect.

I finally bought a PS2. Yay money! its nice having it, and nice have a dvd player in my room again. My roommates xbox (which ive been jacking pretty regularly since we moved in here) makes an unholy racket when its playing dvds for some reason. Add to that the bevy of good games on PS2 these days, and thats good spending in my eyes. I picked up an RPG called Nocturne. Which is amusing, except that i DIED at an inoportune time and lost an hour of play,

Now, i'm sitting here watching a three hour documentary about alexander the great.

wow... way to make with the useless updates

Ive been watching west wing all evening, and this quote just came up...

sam - good news about haiti..
margret - we shoulda gone in there with four tank divisions and turned it into a casino!
sam - manifest destiny?
margret - you betchyer ass.

i laughed a fair bit, then went and read up on manifest destiny because it occured to me i wasn't really sure why i found that so funny. i think its the sorta comedic arrogance that aaron sorkin specializes in. Margret, in the scene, is basically saying that she was not satisfied with the diplomatic resolution, something everyone had been saying, but managed to say it and invoking a doctrine of conquering without being offensive.

i guess what i'm saying is i admire the fuck out of aaron sorkin. i love west wing. and sports night, for that matter. i'm almost to the point that i need to rebuy the dvds, that how much i've watch em.

I really like having a cat. I've never had a pet until we got Matsu. He's super cool. As i type this, he is sprawled across my chest, purring like a small lawnmower. i dunno. i never been an animal person, but i really dig this little guy. he was a street cat before we found him. he had so many fleas he was anemic. He couldn't even really hiss at us he was so whiped out. These days he mostly sleeps, chases flies, eats good food, and complains when he isn't allowed in the room. As far as i can tell, he's got it pretty good. Given how... pleasant... it is to have him around, i think thats a fairly good trade off.

HAHAHAHA

oh man did i ever fuck things up.

There are mistakes, and there are mistakes. This, i must point out, was a monumental mistake. DO NOT SLEEP WITH YOUR EMOTIONALLY FUCKWIT ROOMMATE.

my roommate is awesome, but in the world of bad ideas, sleeping with her for six months is like the alexander the great of bad ideas. I have lost my best friends, my sanity. After the shouting match last night, there is a real fear i will have lost my roommate as well.

Whats fucked is that its not really my fault. i mean, yeah i slept with her, and i knew it would end badly, but it didnt have to. she's a fuckwit. thats not my fault.

bah. i dunno.

i tell people i used to fence, and they treat it like i used to play soccer after school. I don't know. i never played soccer after school. i know people who did, and they don't wake up at night missing their soccer balls, as far as i know.

when i close my eyes, i can feel the mask on my face. deep breath, loud in my ears. my hand is empty, but i can close it and feel the grip, and suddenly my arm is three feet longer.

i picked up a foil for the first time when i was twelve. i didn't put it down until i was 19. for those seven years, it wasn't a hobby. it wasn't a past time. it wasn't just a sport. for a kid who liked nothing and no one, the strip was home.

my whole life was two meters wide by sixteen long. my world was the weapon in my hand, and the weapon in my opponents.

i'm 22 now. nearly 23. its been four years since i could call myself a fencer. four years, and im still afraid of any world bigger than that 2 by 16. on nights like tonight, when it feels like i'm surrounded by deception and confusion, i long for the simplicity of the strip. i miss knowing that the person in front of me was my enemy. i miss that being all that mattered.

i tell people i used to fence, and they treat it like i used to play varsity soccer. i don't know how to tell people that what i really mean is that i've only been a human being for four years. that i spent the years most people spent learning how to socialize learning how to get my weapon to an opponents chest two seconds faster.

I am exhausted.

I am drained, i am tired. I feel empty. This is hardly the atmosphere i had hoped to open this journal with, but i find this is all i really want to say.

The last few months have been a strain i'm unused to dealing with. I asked for this, i suppose, but i was unprepared for the consequences.

i'm being vague, but thats life. i don't have the energy to describe exactly what the hell is wrong in my life. its not as bad as it sounds. i have a home, a room thats mine and mine alone, with books on the walls and a low wide bed in the corner. Theres no one in it anymore but me, and she doesn't mind joking about that fact, which hurts, but i will get over it. I have a job that for once is paying me well, i'm only failing one of my four classes, and by all accounts i'm less crazy than i was two years ago.

for all that, i find them of only moderate consoaltion. being lonely is something i'm accustomed to, but never let it be said that i enjoy it.