I saw Lauren at Deuce again. Lauren is the girl I got with a few weeks ago. She asked me for my phone number, so I gave it to her.

How the night ended up: me meditating, sometimes pausing to talk to her, or to dance, hand or otherwise.

During the conversation, I learnt she thought I talked as if I was much older than I was. I wondered to myself if this was because I appeared to be talking down to her, or if I was actually acting mature. She also seemed to think that I was no more than a dancer, that my body was little more than a house for this dancing spirit I hold.

Later, somehow, in her conclusion jumping mind, she created the idea that I hated her. To be honest, I felt indifferent. She seemed, to me, to be little more than a collection of stereotypes. Naturally, I probably appear the same way to other people.

I dispelled her delusional myth.

She asked me if I would get with her. I said "Nah." She asked me if I would call her if I gave her my number. I honestly said, "I don't know." I wouldn't attempt to predict my own actions over the span of a few weeks.

I think it was at this point that her eyes appeared to be tearing up. I leaned over it get a closer look, and it was then that she appeared to hold back the tears.

Oh dear, that poor foolish girl. It appeared she had fallen in lust for the dancing spirit within me.

I know it must be a bad move to fall in lust instead of falling in love. Lust is desire, and when a great amount goes unfulfilled, it results in a broken heart where there was no love to begin with. When one falls in love, one will often accept the nature of the beloved, even if it involves rejection: "I couldn't disrespect him for his nature."

I remember two times when I made women fall in lust with me by my mindcraft. Even with this power, I didn't have the confidence to make moves on them, and it resulted in their broken hearts. Luckily, I gained the knowledge fast with my empathy, and, with my soulcraft I restored them to a state of happiness before their souls were badly injured.

It's a terrible feeling, a tightening pain in the heart chakra, but I have never experienced it directly, only through the empathy.

Of course, Sean, my psychologist, refuses to accept these goings-on, as any good skeptic should, I guess.

One time I doubted them myself. I thought that maybe I had been psychotic, delusional. So I went around to Liquid's and asked him if he remembered the times when we had both been stoned and I accidentally thought in his head. He said enthusiastically "Yeah!" with a tone as if I should know it was real. We'd never spoken of it until that day.

I had told Sean a quote from the works of Chuang-Tzu, that Chou had once dreamt he was a butterfly, and so he could not tell if he was a butterfly dreaming he was Chou, or before he was Chou dreaming he was a butterfly.

I talked to the psychiatrist because I was curious was medication he would prescribe. He said to me, "Oh, so it says here you thought you were a butterfly," in a strange, sometimes hard to decipher, Middle Eastern accent. I think he even made little wing gestures with his hands.

So that was the guy who gives out powerful drugs capable of altering people's brain chemistry.

Anyway, when the DJ stopped at eleven, I said to Lauren that "I don't often call my friends." She didn't seem any more satisfied.

I didn't ask for this kind of control over other people. I'm just trying to live my life.