Hello. It's me. I'm back to harass you again. Just kidding. Well, okay, I'm not totally kidding, but harassment is not the main reason I'm writing to you again. Or is it? I don't know. At least if you don't like it, you can stop reading. That's the beauty of the written word. You may not be able to stop listening when someone is talking your ear off, but you can easily stop reading and skip to the next note below.

Still here? I'm glad. Now's my chance to say good things about you. You're the only reason I'm writing this. I'm not sure what I'd be doing with my time if it weren't for the possibility of you reading this. I'll have to leave work a little later today because I'm busy writing this. I hope you don't mind.

You're the reason I get up in the morning. If it weren't for you being there, my life would be an empty sequence of eating, working, and sleeping. You bring joy into my life and you do it so easily. Nobody else can do that.

You put up with me being a real pain in the butt sometimes. It makes me often feel ashamed I'm not a better person for you. Hmm, am I sounding too serious? OK, I didn't mean to sound like such a downer. I'll start harassing you now.

Ha! Still kidding.

Did you finish downloading from http://windowsupdate.microsoft.com yet? I'm sorry the connection is so slow.

OK, you can stop reading now. I mean it, stop reading. Hey! You're still reading. Didn't I say to stop reading? Just because there are still words here doesn't mean you have to go on reading right to the en

Sometimes, a phrase will hang in the air and pop out, and stay in your mind and linger and toss and churn. Sometimes it will roll from left to right, feeling along the wrinkles for guidance, kicking playfully until your whole head becomes full, a single phrase bursting and filling and inflating until you can't stand it anymore. I burst out and yelled it everywhere but people saw me and smiled, but I wanted them to frown and to cry and to think. I wanted people to stop straight and open their minds in wonder, but it didn't work. She smiled and performed. It entered my head through the veins in my ear; Sometimes, things match together exactly because they won't.

Everywhere I looked around, I saw that same phrase staring out me of vowels and words, and I wondered if these were mere hallucinations. Some nights I lie alone and I hear voices at night and they turn out to be a Fred, a Will and a Colin who open my door and jump away giggling and laughing boyishly; Other nights they disappear as soon as I think fiercely about the stars on my ceiling. They jump out at me, those single phrases, and I write them down and I scrunch my eyes together in hope that they will hold them in, but when I open and look at this world in naive wonder they spill out of my mouth; When I try to run after them and pick them back up they sink into the ground and leave my eyebrows down and my mouth gaping in a hurt 'O'. I need to keep myself inside, but I feel myself failing miserably and flowing out.

We had climbed up and down, sweating and shedding clothes. Three hours and were were at the summit, feeling the wind sift through our sweaty hair, watching the multicolored trees below curve outwards, bulges of hills dipping up and down and fading outwards in a blue haze of gentle disappearance. They were silent because they didn't have anything to say. I was musing, wondering where to start, when we started back down. I wanted to stay. Home was there.

Two hours and we were back in, sitting on plush seats with the AC swirling through us and driving back in a gray shower of rain, watching the lights outside blur into small globules of green and red, slipping downwards and joining together, teardrops from wide eyes. We stopped, and a song came on, and we started singing all together.

Afterwards, she sat down close next to him, and I could see her eyes. I could see what she meant. Enough, I said, and I walked away out through the door without looking back. My eyes swiveled and I cried out within, and I could feel myself churning around and around with the grumble of a washing machine, tumbling and spinning over and over again, thumping madly with the small metallic clinks ringing from the dimes and nickels inside like thin staccatos reminding me. A tolling bell.

It's so hard to cry these days, there is drought in the desert and in the gaping mouths of young birds waiting to be fed. The only thing I can do is to wait for the clouds to float by, so I tilt my head back and wait. Tomorrow, perhaps, it will rain.

I had an account on everything2 before, and it's been idle for some time now. The reason I'm starting again is because I'd actually like to try and meet some people through this thing. Not really meet, as just find someone to talk to. It's probably the case that I just feel lonely right now and will drop off within a few weeks or so. I hope I won't be so lax, and I hope I can actually meet a good friend through this.

Of course, I would like to keep things anonymous, but I still want to talk about my life. Assume if you will that for all my posts henceforth, I will not be using any real names. I would like to conceal my identity to the general public, but if you really want to talk to me, I will be more forthcoming. Speaking of which, the best way to do so is probably just /msg me.

So, a little about me right now and why I want to do this. I'm in college right now, and I find myself completely devoid of any real friends. I am in a relationship right now that has been going on for slightly less than a year. Other than her, there doesn't seem to be anyone else in my life. I have people I talk to, but it's never about anything more than just classes. I used to be friends with my current room mate, but he was and is on much better terms with my ex-girlfriend. Thankfully, she gave him the impression that I wronged her unduly. I didn't think so, but of course I'm wrong. So things with my current girlfriend are generally good, I just can't open up to her as much as I'd like to.

So it may seem that I just need someone to listen to my problems and give me advice, but I'd like to be that kind of a person for someone else. My girlfriend and I talk a lot, but I really want to talk to somebody else about their life for a change. It doesn't really matter who you are, or in what stage of life, I just want someone to talk to. Of course, someone in comparable circumstances would probably be a good companion. But now I've gone and made e2 into the personals section of a newspaper. My humblest apologies, but no other online forum has so many people in it reading whatever you say. I guess what I'm really going to use this account for is just post the occasional daylog and hopefully get feedback from you all. If that's wrong, I can leave.

I don't imagine that response to this entry will be particularly favorable, or that there be any great response at all. I just felt it would be a good way to introduce myself and explain what I'm about. I know stuff like that would be reserved for my home node, but I'm working on it, and nobody know's to check your home node if they don't know you exist. So consider this the first episode of the sitcom that is my life, and it's not particularly that good, but neither was space pilot 3000.

I have a test to write next week Friday, it’s on the Impact on Expansionary Monetary Policy on the changing South African Economy. Mmmmhhh, good..

The law students are writing one today; Legal Research Theory 101s. First-year students. I hate the library the day of a test that a lot of people are taking, it’s just so damn noisy. Little kiddies running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

Sometimes I like to stroll through the case file library and rearrange all the cases, replace them with more intellectually stimulating material. Cruel, but fun. I like to watch them root around for ‘State vs. Wakkerstroom cs.03556-123’ only to find ‘]Winnie the Pooh]: Piglets Rainy Monday’. Hahahahaha. Just that look of despair on their faces, it oozes across them like greasy chicken on a tilted plate.

I do put the cases back just before the test, I’m not entirely evil, contrary to popular belief.

I seem to have lost something, although I’m not quite sure what it is yet. I don’t think I ever had an edge to lose, so that can’t be it.

I know that none of you want to hear a strange girl's rant about a show that none of you even watch I am sure but I have to get it out.

Let me say a few words on The Bachelor. Break it down, break it down. Down to the ground. Let me say now that I never ever thought I would be a huge fan of The Bachelor but this show is pure genius. Two words: train wreck. I can't turn away from it. It's genius. Good stuff.

For one, I can NOT believe that Brooke is still there. What? Who is she? What has she done on this show? Is she the only girl that Bob has not kissed and he wants to keep her around until he does?

And what the mother fuck is Lee Ann still doing there. I don't get it. She is a heinous bitch. Did you see her with the, "Oh no, I am fine!" And giving him that controlling ass shit and basically giving the Bachelor himself an ultimatum. What is that? The show is called The Bachelor not Some Crazy Lonely Bitch Who Has Lost Her Mind. I can't believe he still picked her. I almost fell off the bed. And the thing that absolutely cracks me up is that you heard the bitch say, "I can get any man I want. I don't need to be here sharing a man." Then WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU THERE?!" Go home then. Go back home and get any man that you want. You're a teacher, go home and hit on the guidance counselor. Hit on the principle. Go find you a baby daddy and get on with your life and let the rest of America forget that you even exist you stupid whore.

And let me tell you a little something about Bob. He sucks. I have never watched a The Bachelor before this season, so I have no one to compare him to, but I think he is a bit of a douche. And that laugh of his makes me want to kill myself. There is not even a sound as equally annoying that I could even compare to it. And I never watched the Bachelorette so I have no clue if he was somehow charming on that show or not but as for The Bachelor, I have yet to be impressed. He sure does like to make-out though. Damn. I don't even know why these girls are so in love with him.

I feel like an ass loving this ridiculous show as much as I do. But I love it. It is not often you get to see grown ass women acting like fucking idiots over a guy that only one will end up with in the end. And yes, I do agree this show is deameaning to women but it only demeans the women that are pathetic enough to go on it. And if they are that desperate and sad that they have to go on national television to find a husband, then I look better by comparison to be the chick that just watches sad and desperate women compete for a husband.

That was my two cents. Spend it well.

moloch17 "visited" my station today.

"May I help you?" I said. He walked around my station, tapping at the dials and peering at the levers, examining my bench and the tools hanging on the walls. We do not have facial expressions, of course, but body language is sufficient to express one's feelings. moloch17 was (as always) radiating a mixture of disapproval and self-satisfaction.

"No, no," he replied. "Please continue. I don't want to intrude, and you no doubt have much work to do." He was looking at my tools as he said this. I was painfully conscious of their haphazard arrangement. I wouldn't think anything of it--after all it is my station, my work, my tools to hang as I wish--but moloch17 always keeps his tools perfectly aligned and sensibly organized by size and function.

He has a talent for inducing shame in others. It is a pity someone at the higher levels hasn't noticed this and promoted him to some appropriate position that takes him far, far, far away from me.

"Tomorrow is wages day," he said. I didn't reply, but kept my eyes fixed on the dials and made several minute and unnecessary adjustments. "What will you do with your five octagons?"

"Six. Six octagons. I received an increase two months ago." I closed a switch. "I haven't yet decided." This was a lie. I know what I am going to do with tomorrow's pay. Finally I will have enough to buy the red cape at the Exchange on Level Seventy-Three, the one I have been longing for since I saw it nearly six months ago. But I did not want him to know that.

"Ah. Well, I don't want to make you even further behind in your work." I made a noncommittal sound. "These new directives--of course you've been reading them--the higher levels want us to communicate more, to broaden our horizons, get a sense of the larger picture. It's hard for me to turn my attention away from my station for even a moment, but I can see the wisdom in this. Don't you agree?"

"Yes, of course." The bronze cylinders he referred to were at the moment part of a waist-high pyramidal structure I had built against one wall, entirely out of received directives.

"I hear there is a new moloch three stations away. I am off to welcome him to the Shaft. Good shift to you."

"Good shift." He waved and walked away down the tunnel.

Bastard. I prefer the company of my crawlie.

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So I'm in archery class today and my teacher says, "Address your target. Nock your arrow. Aim, draw, and release."

I release my arrow and I feel this awful pain in my left boob. I realise that the bow string hit my boob! It was the most excrutiating pain I had ever felt in my entire life. I stagger over to my nearest friend and I told her what happened.

She replies, "Are you okay? Maybe you should go and make sure it' okay, and I'll help you."

I try to convince myself not to think of her as a lesbian and more of a good friend who cares. So I go and sit in the grass with a few other girls and my teacher walks up to me and says, "You know why you did that? You did that because you're moving both your arms around instead of this one," as she puts her hand on my right arm.

So, I basically ignore her and go on talking with ther other girls about what it would be like to be homeless.

I was watching game 7 of the cubs vs the marlins last night. For some reason everytime i watch sports, it either has no sound or it is in a different language. Apparently, there is a setting on TVs, SAP, that you can select the language you hear certain programs, though i just learned this today.

ANYWAY, as I was watching the game, not understanding more than 10 words per hour, they start to list off some sponsors. Out of nowhere, the announcer comes on and says "KEEEEEEOUGH da BEEEEEEOUGH", and advertisement for the new Quentin Tarantino movie Kill Bill. It was the funniest thing i ever heard the spanish-speaking television spout out for sure!

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