That means nothing. Dear Internet Journal,
It is 11:18 p.m. on Monday. The date is up there. I am invested in my ACC classes. It is what I've decided to do, so I must do it. I have nothing else to do. There is less than a month left for classes. I have about three papers to write. Short ones albeit. I will work backwards for a minute. I firmly believe that I want to read The Brothers Karamazov when I am finished here. I flushed two Kleenexes, which I had to use in place of toilet paper. I could have gone to the store, or even gone into Tim's bathroom. But there is Ashley and Domino. Patrick and I watched three episodes of Frasier this evening after working out. I drove us to Sonic and he bought us a root beer float. I had a cheese and green chile tamale and a turkey wrap with cheese and greens. I drank some cherry limeade that comes in powder packets. Before driving to math class I played Limbo. A song just came on Grooveshark called Brother, and I am about to cry now. My math professor brought a violin to class and played some to teach us about octaves. I think there was a point in class where I had to suppress my urge to cry. It was probably a quiet moment that felt like it had some poignancy to me. I dreamed that Ashley and I were cuddling on a sofa and I asked her out and she agreed and we both were saying something like "finally!". I ate a pizza slice for lunch and watched King of the Hill. I did Latin homework. I drove to class, and at the last minute I remembered it was cancelled because the professor's father is sick. Or ill was the word in the e-mail. I took a picture of my right eye and my peace lily's flower with my new phone. We watched the Ides of March on Saturday. I didn't like it as much I wanted to. I guess it was all right. It seemed like women are unfairly portrayed in it. She sleeps around, gets pregnant, gets emotional, gets a man to pay for her abortion, then seems to kill herself or mistakenly drinks alcohol with her meds. Then she's replaced and used as collateral for the main character to get ahead politically by blackmail. It's all good. Jan was there. She paid. Then we waited a while to get my phone. Nice young black man helped us. I'm listening to Galaxie 500 cover Velvet Underground. Goooooof. We pulled up flowers at Kit's then played Magic until I had to go meet Max and Julie at Zilker. It had been a long time since I'd seen him. Ashley went with me. Max and Julie each had a frisbee golf disc. We hugged them. We drove to the greenbelt. It was nightfall. We walked in the creek bed in the low light. We ate cheese, saltines, and honey roasted peanuts that were in Julie's brown backpack. We hugged again in the parking lot. I said to Ashley that Julie gets prettier all the time. Ashley said she wished she was as pretty as Julie. I said You're pretty in your own way... and that no one can be as pretty as Julie, which were both dumb things to say I guess. We always want to keep from making people feel bad, but they're going to feel bad anyway. I fuking hurt your fuking feelings. Hah, what a funny sentence, yes?
It's time to end this 30 minutes of typing. I'm listening to Natureboy. Yipppeeee! Say it manly.
OK byebye does toe eve sky...
Love, Greg
