March 2003 Archives

Avy is arresting...

I am fucking exhausted and I want to go home!

I just wanted to get my passport renewed (must now go to a new location).

I just wanted a quick bite at McDonalds (floater cashier not familiar with local system).

I just wanted to help out (cover phones for Help Desk for two hours).

I just wanted VPN to work (for some bizzarre reason, no amount of troubleshooting elucidated the solution).

I just wanted VPN to work (another caller, another location. High-speed connectivity not working in her room yet).

I just wanted to write documentation (the clarity about my assignment before lunch has since dissipated).

I just wanted her to leave me alone (yes, I told her to call me specifically since I was aware of her situation. New room high-speed access working as advertised. VPN works like a charm).

I just want her to love me (Yes, today I know it is both wrong and unlikely. How long before I ignore that again?).

Sigh.

I'm spent.

Cashed.

Alone.

Who knew that a lamp was going to be part of network trouble-shooting. A LAMP!

Nothing means anything.

So is Sunny Leone!

Tawny is a hottie, isn't she?

The weekend is here and I can't betray my confusion.

By now that chance has past.

It's supposed to be a good thing. But I'm sad.

Whatever I've done
Beats staring down the barrel of a gun.

-Depeche Mode

That's the first thing I think when I see that ass of yours.

I wanna grab those hips and bang!

I'm soo paranoid.

But that doesn't mean I feel less like fucking.

I know that's why you came here, because you like fucking too.

It wasn't the 10PM deadline I gave myself, but I went through my ADD fit and still got myself into bed much before the 4AM of the previous two nights.

So I consider that a partial victory. The question is whether I can keep getting to bed earlier.

Because even though I only slept for about 6 hours and felt like I had a hangover when I awoke, I feel generally better and more at peace.

Less sleep equals less sanity.

The sexual tension.
I want that release with you.

I realize I see the word through testosterone-colored glasses, which is a potent reality-distorter...

But I think we would be a good fuck.

I'm dying to prove it.

If you tell me you love me, I will reject it out of hand as crazy talk.

If you criticize me, I will do anything to make it stop.

I am my worst critic.

I am entertaining all options.

I will do anything to make it stop.

I know what I want to do.

I'm capable of ignoring either impulse.

It's clear as mud.

Ethics? I'm fresh out.

I wish I was somewhere, with someone.

Like it would make it all better.

I want to ask where is this at? Do you want to?

The mixed messages are just terrible, terrible wastes of time.

Are we on or off?

Were we ever?

You?

Door closed?

Door wide open but can't admit it?

If I make any entries after, say, 2200—then I prove to myself that I have no personal integrity.

No.

"Hey, you seem pretty cool. Do you wanna fuck?"

"Yeah, let me get ready."

Will the circle be unbroken?

I was up until 0345 this morning. I did some cool blogging stuff and listened to music. Then I surfed porn and stroked my cock.

I slept until 0710. I should typically leave my house between 0645 and 0700.

So the level of suck right off the bat was very high.

Late to pick up rider.

Late to meeting.

Not wise to do that when your manager will be there.

Not wise at all.

All because I like to look at pictures and get off.

Or just listen to music forever.

Or just fuck around with PC hardware forever.

I do these things because I don't know what I want.

Everything looks good.

And I don't want to limit myself. I want it all.

And I'm holding myself back.

Pink.

Kills me.

I don't know what to do. One answer would be to do nothing, leave everything as it is.

WAIT—I guess that's all I've done!

I've been miserable and I've done nothing to change it.

How weak is that?

If I keep doing what I've always done, I'll always get the same results.

Please kill me.

I'm on the verge of tears because of a motherfucking song lyric.

There is nothing worse than being afraid.

Nothing.

Fool.

Did you know that when you wear pink, you are just that much closer to owning me entirely?

Do you do this on purpose?

No, no. Don't say it. It's not about me.

Yet I am still owned.

Stop it.

Please don't stop.

A really good friend of mine blogged about me (not the Soulless me, mind you) on his new blog, talking about being friends and liking me and me being funny and smart.

That's cool, yet scary. I mean I feel like I have to live up to that now.

Basically I use my dick to express my individuality, Babe.

"Hey babe," I said, grabbing her knees. "Pretend you're the Red Sea and I'm God."

Working in tech support is interesting due to it's random nature. But the randomness is also infuriating. As soon as I think I have time to work on issues X and Y, problem Z crops up to demand my immediate and undivided attention. Therefore, I do a lot of stuff, but rarely what I intended to do.

Doing what I intended to do is like a second full-time job.

And that's a long fucking work week.

Keeping two blogs does not mean I have two personalities.

It just means that I am too afraid to say what I'm thinking otherwise.

Because I'm usually silent, people tend to think that I'm a nice person and a good person. And actually I guess I treasure that in a way. But it sucks to hold back.

What would Gandhi have said if he relaxed his internal censor? But, he didn't. There was a man.

And here I sit sucking down Mountain Dew all day long because I'm sleep deprived.

Does anyone else see a vicious cycle?

Put the bat down. I get it.

If I'm gonna work out consistently again, I'm gonna have to do it before work.

That means getting up at oh-dark-hundred, or roughly 0400. I quit doing that for a reason, but I started doing that for a reason.

I hate when practicality wins over spontaneity. I'm just that kind of guy.

What, do I have to fucking grow up now?

There was an ad at the table of the restaurant I ate lunch at today, with an attention-getter something along the lines of a person having an open relationship with his hamburger.

And I thought to myself,"My meat is only going to one place."

At work. Hopefully no one noticed I was gone.

Between that and caffeine I'm feeling better.

I slept from 0415 to 0630.

I'm such a fucking idiot.

No sleep makes me emotionally, um, less stable.

Plus, I don't see as well because my eyes are tired.

My body aches.

And I am always wanting to take surreptitious naps at work.

None of this is good.

But it is habitual. So how do I change the habit?

ADD boys ought
Not to surf the web alone.
They will never sleep.

Saudade.

Love and Rockets.

Love it.

It's fun to flirt with administrative assistants.

And it's very easy to believe that you always will.

I did. And I believe it was the right decision to make at the time.

But things change. Holy fuck do they change.

I feel like life would be a lot less painful for many if I were to just live alone.

If you want to have fun for a while, I'm game. It would be fun.

But then you would get all serious on me and hate my ADD.

And think I was irresponsible and lazy and ignoring you. You would.

So let's just cut out the crap.

Let me know if you want to hang out, but otherwise fuck off. I'll get along fine without you trying to modify all of my behaviors to fix me. I'm OK with the way I'm broke. I just need to find someone who is broke the same way and who is also cool with it.

Is that too much ask?

Don't answer that.

My wife keeps waiting for me to announce that I don't want to be married.

I'm not sure that's the case, there's just this other woman I want to fuck.

I went to refill my water bottle with filtered water. The water is naturally in the kitchenette area outside the meeting rooms.

One meeting room has glass panels that face this area. One meeting room has a door with a glass panel, and sometimes the door is left open.

If you're in the meeting, you notice who is walking by. If you're walking by, you notice who is meeting. Unless you try damn hard not to notice, which is really just acting—peripheral vision being what it is.

So, I don't like to go to the meeting rooms. You might be there and I have to pretend I don't want you. I'm not a good liar.

Today, I was just filling up my water bottle pretending not to notice there were meetings. My heart was racing. Fortunately you weren't there. But I am just as embarrassed as if you were.

Please post more.

Horniness and drunkenness are not compatible.

All of the girls look hot.

Oh wait... That happens when I'm sober, too!

Fuck.

Hey, do ya wanna fuck?

Yeah, I didn't think so.

Listen. You're beautiful. And I'm not just saying that because I'm drunk.

I wanna go home with you, but I think my wife would get pissed.

But can we fuck?

Oh, wait... already asked you that. Don't answer.

It's not just because I'm drunk, I swear.

I swear to God.

I drank my last drink 2 hours ago.

I'm still tanked.

Holy shit.

I'm going to drink some water and go to bed.

If I'm lucky, I'll see you in my dreams.

You're running through my head all the time.

You must be exhausted!

I'm exhausted too.

See you Monday? Please? Please God?

We'll talk more.

Shhh... don't say anything. That would ruin it.

Good night, Love.

Reminds me of when it started. She asked me to drive. Then she took the keys back because I forgot where we were parked.

I'm way too drunk right this minute.

But fuck.

How I wanted to fuck.

I feel kinda horny right now, but I think I would have trouble making it work. Do you know what I mean?

I'm shit-faced.

2 Black Russians.

Friends don't let friends blog drunk!

Like this:

ass shaking black girls

I'm here. You found me. I love you, too!

It is 5 am
and you are listening
to Los Angeles

-Soul Coughing

SO close to being a haiku...

This is not how I should be behaving at all!

Well, if emode is to be believed, I am an Omega, my libido is 10, and I fucking radiate it.

It must be because I want it so bad.

I was over at emode today and found myself getting very excited reading the personals. I was wanting to get in touch with some of these women... What the fuck goes on in my head? I don't want to be an asshole cheater, but I do want to fuck around.

Too bad for me.

Apparently I am an asshole.

Swan and Jana Cova in the same pictoral at Suze's site...

Cruel. Cruel. So motherfucking beautiful...

It's so wrong.

But God Damn it's cool to look into your eyes!

Mercy. Mercy.

I had no choice... it was the meeting rooms thing. I was in a meeting. Yours was next.

I was a good boy and kept away, though.

You're more than I can handle right now.

But I do lust for you.

Careful.

My wife had a dream in which I (I always get to be the hugest asshole in her dreams. Always.) apparently organize Friday night parties for the boys—which include prostitutes I have hired.

I wonder what it would be like to be the ballsy bastard that inhabits her dreams.

Because I assure you, my life is more like Walter Mitty's.

If I decide to try hard to not see you, why do I run into you so often?

Whatever.

I can still try to avoid the obvious places. It's just weird that I should see you so much now when I want to not care.

Musta been some kind of kiss
I should have walked away
I should have walked away

-Cutting Crew

And I can't forget how much I lusted for you.

I would have sold my soul for you, left everything behind.

I think about the tension that I felt when you are around. I still fucking feel it.

It makes me hate myself more.

And if I found out that all you wanted was a fuck, then I would give up and die—fool that I am.

I don't want to be here.

I used to think there was no way I would ever leave her.

There would be no reason to be married because it wouldn't increase my commitment.

I'm just weary now—tired and sad.

If I broke my commitment, you would never be able to trust me.

I don't trust me.

What kind of father would I be if I can't be trusted.

I still want you.

I was just dying inside.

There was no good reason for me to even try to have a relationship with you.

That's what I could never get past.

I felt that it would immediately be obvious.

The upsetting thing was that I even considered it in the first place.

You're really beautiful and I wish you would stop that.

Why the hell is my blogging experience ruined by that same fucking annoying person leaving evidence that she was there first?

Is the web that motherfucking small?

There have to be millions of blogs... I did a Google search on 3 very generic words... what the fuck are the chances?

Fucking fuck!

I've got more to do in my life than follow you fucking around, but I have to fucking yield or else I'm a fucking stalker or some stupid shit.

Fuck off! Fuck off! Go away!

...

Near as I can tell, this is not about anyone who reads this blog. It's not about you. This is about me having to live with mistakes.

After the third day of working out I'm not feeling so much like I came.

Fucking dragon!

Why do I always have to chase you?

But if I have learned anything it's that sometimes it's better to just shut up.

Especially since I have apparently no social grace in certain situations and no sense of when I've gone too far.

And for what it's worth, the silent thing has huge benefits: If I say nothing, you cannot prove I am an idiot. Nor will I prove the same.

Let 'em all think I'm stuck up. Whatever.

But when I get that tingling sensation I really don't want to be ignored.

Ah. You know, this TinyURL site might be just the ticket. Now I can link to images I host. It could help to make things more... interesting...

-'Til Tuesday

It's making me hard.

So, uh, let's trade favors...

"If that won't get you off, tell me what will!"

-Prince

"If I was your girlfriend, would you tell me?"

-Prince

The winning combination included her beautiful face, her legs brought up to her chest, her labia spread with both hands, and her body filling the frame of the image nicely to suggest a delicious proximity!

You can't miss!

You can't miss...

So not real...

Aria Giovanni
Stormy
Penny Flame
Jana Cova

You have all helped me to feel no pain.

The search for the perfect porn.

I like to look at the traffic logs for my several blogs.

I like to look at the web searches that lead to my site. I laugh when I see how far off my pages are from their original query.

For example, I get lots of hits on the words "black" and "fuck." But this is not what they were looking for.

See, I have black moods, and I am a fuck, but I have never had conjugal or carnal relations with anyone who would be thought to be African-American.

This is not to say that I wouldn't, because I love women of the opposite sex, it's just that the opportunity has not presented itself.

And lord knows I'm all about the moment being right...

Like I imagine I might have in the same circumstances.

I'm paying way too much attention.

I exercised over lunch today.

Such a flood of endorphins I have never had.

It made me feel like I came.

The afterglow was superior.

I wanted to share.

but not out of mind. Yet.

I had a death in my family today.

Any of my emotional reactions are not to be trusted or believed.

Through the warmthest
Cord of care
Your love was sent to me

I'm not sure
What to do with it
Or where to put it

I'm so close to tear
And so close to
Simply calling you up
And simply suggesting

We go to the hidden place
That we go to the hidden place
We go to the hidden place
We go to a hidden place

Now I have
Been slightly shy
And I can smell a pinch of hope
To almost have allowed once fingers
To stroke
The fingers I was given to touch with
But careful, careful
There lies my passion, hidden
There lies my love
I'll hide it under a blanket
Lull it to sleep

I'll keep it in a hidden place
I'll keep it in a hidden place
Keep it in a hidden place
Keep it in a hidden place

From "Hidden Place," by Björk from the Vespertine CD.

No.

My guilt would wreck it.

Couldn't I just be your friend?

No.

I would want more.

My guilt would wreck it.

Can't I just be happy where I am?

No.

I would want more.

My guilt would wreck it.

It's minute-by-minute.

One time it's all of the hope I have.

The next is the realization that everything is fine and I'm doing what I need to do.

I want to go back, but I know I need to let go.

The more I hold on, the more it hurts.

I just feel bitter.

What a waste.

Emotions. Who needs them?

What a fucking waste.

How soon does it happen again?

I don't think I could live through it again.

Why? Why? WHY!

I want to get drunk. Or high.

Anything to make it stop.

Anything, I swear.

Just stop!

I wish I could never see you anymore.
I have a perfectly good life.
Perfectly good.

I don't need two.

I still want you,
but you have to go.

Fucking everything.

I get bored, I get bored, I get bored
I wish for a real one

-Deftones

And I still think life is complicated.

Right this very moment, I do not feel angst. It's an odd sensation.

The world is a fucking mirror.

Way too much happens to be coincidence.

And I'm clearly insane.

It's all supposed to be random, right?

Well then somebody come over here and fix my random generator...

'Cause it's not random anymore!

I love your pretty pink pussy...

No, no! Put those back on!

I dig that.

I love the way your nipples feel.

I'm going to suck on them, one by one. Let me pinch the other one.

Fuck! I love it when you bend over like that and I can see that pussy.

God, and you're so wet!

When I enter you from behind like that I love how your breasts fit right into my hands. I love to squeeze your nipples and hear you moan...

Oh, fuck! I get to look at your gorgeous ass... that's almost enough to make me come right there!

You dirty whore! I love it when you talk like that!

I can't believe how good it feels inside you! I'm holding you hips tight because I love to pull that ass all the way up to me. Your pussy is magic!

What did you do to me? I didn't think I'd... Oh, n...

Oh fuck! Oh fuck! I'm... FUCK!

Oh God..

God damn!

You're...

Oh fuck you're good!

You nasty little thing...

Not to mention 3v1L...

j00 r0x0rs!

And now that I'm feeling better, my thoughts have turned straight to sex.

So if you think you might know something I would like, the door is open.

Other times, I swear to God, I feel like I'm on the fucking Truman Show!

Just when I'm about to take my normal nose dive, one friend invites me over for beer. Another invites me to work out over lunch.

People really can be the fucking coolest.

I just do not understand the universe.

I'm grateful!

But I still don't get it...

How stupidly I've said nothing. I have huge amounts to say. But I only say "hello." If I said more, I'm sure it would go badly.

It doesn't matter if she's interested or not, really.

The only honorable thing would be to...

I want to be drunk right now. At least things would be blurrier.

The only honorable thing to do would be to make certain that my marriage will work or will not. Everything else should just not matter.

So I just feel like a shit. I'm a miserable, lying sack of shit. I lie to say I'm fine. I lie to say I did not fall in love. I lie to say I'm thinking about work. I lie.

I do not trust myself to say or do the right thing. So I say nothing. And I do nothing.

I have completely withdrawn into myself and I self-medicate with pornography and masturbation for hours on end most nights. It has ruined my sexual relationship with my wife. It has cost me my intelligent self because I'm always exhausted at work.

I keep trying to avoid myself. Any distraction, at any cost. Just please don't make me deal with myself because I hate me.

Did I mention I want to get drunk? I want to get shit-faced.

While I'm writing this about self-loathing, I'm IMing with a guy that likes to hang out with me. That makes me feel weird because I almost never pursue friendships—I do, but it's far less common than the other because I really do keep to myself.

But we just set up to hang at his place Friday night. His fiancee will be there. My wife will be sleeping.

That's what fucking drives me nuts. I can't stand that I have to go out by myself.

And she's completely committed to goals she has set for herself to get adequate sleep, to exercise before work. Going out at night is not a part of that plan.

I like to be with people. I feel really good where I feel accepted.

My wife says she wants to spend as much time as possible with me, that she has designed her life that way.

That makes me feel like shit, too.

I'm really confused about where to draw the line between what I want and where I need to just suck it up. But I feel really constrained. I don't like it. So, something has to change.

Probably it has to be me.

Please lay on your back and put your legs straight up in the air.

Now bring your knees back to your shoulders.

Thank you!

If you delete a blog in blogger without first deleting every entry one by one, the static pages remain.

Even though the database behind them is gone, my old posts are still online... minus where February in the new incarnation wrote over the old.

I've linked to the old archive pages. Feel free to peruse my insanity.

And comment.

Don't be so shy.

Why is it that everywhere I look, it's like a metaphysical mother-fucking mirror?

It's all, like, right back at me...

What is going on? I'm getting freaked out!

It is motherfucking awkward working in the same place as a woman with which I came close to having an affair, or maybe only a one night stand.

Whatever.

I still want her real bad but I pretend I don't, mostly.

She always acts funny, uncertain.

It seems like that.

I hate that.

My wife thinks I don't want to be married.

She is beautiful and wonderful.

And she's right.

I don't know what I want and I hate that.

She finished reading a book about affairs. Apparently I have every trait that men who are having affairs have. Only I never have. Ever.

So I pretend that everything is normal, fine, whatever. I'm doing what I'm supposed to do, right?

So at work, I'm reminded about almost.

I didn't but I wanted to.

I haven't but I want to.

And I feel like a fucking moron because I know it's completely wrong.

Yep.

Nothing.

Nothing.

All over nothing.

I thank you from the core of my being, for the core of my being.

I love you.

Do you realize how beautiful you are?

Can you understand how profoundly I mean that? Do you understand how profoundly you affect me?

While this next picture is downloading, I'm going to get a refreshing beverage and maybe some tissue.