So I'm writing. I don't know how I'm going to keep this up, but I think I must.
I have many things to say, to little time to say them, and spend most of the precious little I have to myself sitting here in my chair. In fact, I secretly dream about being in this chair, with nothing I have to do right away looming over me.
I'm tempted to leave parties sometimes to come here. To pray at my church of self-consumed activity.
Am I an introvert? Heh. Yes, I think you might be asking that of me at this point - I know I would be thinking that same thing if this were your journal, and I were reading it. The answer is, I'm told, no.
I am not. So says a girl called, uhm, lets call her JL. Sitting on a bus traveling through Havana last November - that's when she said it, "Diego, you're full of shit! You're not -introverted-. You're the most extroverted person I know! Come off it."
The possibility of this being true didn't agree with me very well. If my brain could break into a cold sweat, it would have. I don't like the idea of being so extroverted. I'm an intellectual, and most of History shows us that the only intelligent extroverts worth writing about were generally written about because they were also Womanizers. Or Drunks. Or Criminals.
Plus, extroversion - it somehow implies the notion that one is reliant on the contact and company of others to be happy. To be functional, even.
I certainly do not like that idea. I'm reliant on enough things already. If I ran out of cigarettes, I might die. Well, I might -want- to die. Do I really have to worry about running out of people to talk to? *laughs*
It seems a very silly idea at first - but it's a weakness, however unlikely to be a factor in my life. Unless there's a massive wave of death that sees me drinking out of the bottle and breathing out chunks of charlie as I laugh - and decides to leave me alone, while on it's way to kill everyone else.
And crikey. Just how bad would I feel if -that- happened, introvert, extrovert or what have you? Forget it. This is obviously off-topic by a mile. Most people would have stopped me about 10 thoughts back. Ha. This is my journal, and I'll go off on whatever tangent I like, merci. No offense to you, if you've managed to read this far, or managed to find this page at all - you certainly don't deserve any offensive treatment from me. No sir.
Mmm. JL. Yes, that girl. Woo-wee. Half a year younger than me, which is a major first - always date older - but my god she was worth making an exception for.
I get sentimental just thinking of her hair in the reddish sun streaming in through the window of the bus we rode on, that day in Havana. I've got the pictures somewhere, but I really prefer to leave them alone. I like the picture in my mind, and I don't need it spoiling, thanks.
Have you ever had a recollection of a woman or man, for that matter, that was not bitter. Not sad, even. But though you'd do it again 10000 over, with them I mean - spend time with them I mean - you STILL somehow regret it? Why? Not because it wasn't fun - hell no, it was GREAT fun. Did you get hurt? No. I almost regret meeting her, because then I might not be sitting here right now, thinking about all the fun shit I -can't- do with her anymore.
*wipes his forehead* Good god damn. Gentlemen, she was a show-stopper.
Silly thing is, she lives 'round the corner now. But I dare not go back down that road again. She's just as sharp-toothed as she is sharp-witted, and I know I don't stand a chance of capturing her for long enough to please me. Why put up just a little, when you can have none, and all of something else? *grins*
Though. She was fuckin' amazing. One of those girls who just opens up to you in bed. Just bears herself. You feel like she'd jump in your mouth and let you eat her whole if she'd love how it felt.
One of those girls who makes all the right sounds. Says all the right things. Hard to do, I say. Too much sounds contrived and fake - too little isn' t much for encouragement.
Okay. Enough.
I can't tell you about all of it now, can I? We'll talk more about JL. I'm going to smoke a cigar, have a cup of tea and go to bed.
Hasta Luego!
I have many things to say, to little time to say them, and spend most of the precious little I have to myself sitting here in my chair. In fact, I secretly dream about being in this chair, with nothing I have to do right away looming over me.
I'm tempted to leave parties sometimes to come here. To pray at my church of self-consumed activity.
Am I an introvert? Heh. Yes, I think you might be asking that of me at this point - I know I would be thinking that same thing if this were your journal, and I were reading it. The answer is, I'm told, no.
I am not. So says a girl called, uhm, lets call her JL. Sitting on a bus traveling through Havana last November - that's when she said it, "Diego, you're full of shit! You're not -introverted-. You're the most extroverted person I know! Come off it."
The possibility of this being true didn't agree with me very well. If my brain could break into a cold sweat, it would have. I don't like the idea of being so extroverted. I'm an intellectual, and most of History shows us that the only intelligent extroverts worth writing about were generally written about because they were also Womanizers. Or Drunks. Or Criminals.
Plus, extroversion - it somehow implies the notion that one is reliant on the contact and company of others to be happy. To be functional, even.
I certainly do not like that idea. I'm reliant on enough things already. If I ran out of cigarettes, I might die. Well, I might -want- to die. Do I really have to worry about running out of people to talk to? *laughs*
It seems a very silly idea at first - but it's a weakness, however unlikely to be a factor in my life. Unless there's a massive wave of death that sees me drinking out of the bottle and breathing out chunks of charlie as I laugh - and decides to leave me alone, while on it's way to kill everyone else.
And crikey. Just how bad would I feel if -that- happened, introvert, extrovert or what have you? Forget it. This is obviously off-topic by a mile. Most people would have stopped me about 10 thoughts back. Ha. This is my journal, and I'll go off on whatever tangent I like, merci. No offense to you, if you've managed to read this far, or managed to find this page at all - you certainly don't deserve any offensive treatment from me. No sir.
Mmm. JL. Yes, that girl. Woo-wee. Half a year younger than me, which is a major first - always date older - but my god she was worth making an exception for.
I get sentimental just thinking of her hair in the reddish sun streaming in through the window of the bus we rode on, that day in Havana. I've got the pictures somewhere, but I really prefer to leave them alone. I like the picture in my mind, and I don't need it spoiling, thanks.
Have you ever had a recollection of a woman or man, for that matter, that was not bitter. Not sad, even. But though you'd do it again 10000 over, with them I mean - spend time with them I mean - you STILL somehow regret it? Why? Not because it wasn't fun - hell no, it was GREAT fun. Did you get hurt? No. I almost regret meeting her, because then I might not be sitting here right now, thinking about all the fun shit I -can't- do with her anymore.
*wipes his forehead* Good god damn. Gentlemen, she was a show-stopper.
Silly thing is, she lives 'round the corner now. But I dare not go back down that road again. She's just as sharp-toothed as she is sharp-witted, and I know I don't stand a chance of capturing her for long enough to please me. Why put up just a little, when you can have none, and all of something else? *grins*
Though. She was fuckin' amazing. One of those girls who just opens up to you in bed. Just bears herself. You feel like she'd jump in your mouth and let you eat her whole if she'd love how it felt.
One of those girls who makes all the right sounds. Says all the right things. Hard to do, I say. Too much sounds contrived and fake - too little isn' t much for encouragement.
Okay. Enough.
I can't tell you about all of it now, can I? We'll talk more about JL. I'm going to smoke a cigar, have a cup of tea and go to bed.
Hasta Luego!
hollygolightly:
someone's reading... 
misslu:
im reading too!! 