note_to_lauren werewolf we're going to someday, in what would be a questionable use of the word accidentally, walk into the same bar lonely and hopeful. after we're done laughing, we'll buy each other a drink, but we won't drink them, we'll get the hell out of there. that paragraph though, ironically, is just a toast. 040423 ... shaq attack! I knew you at a distance, but you were always a positive neutrality in my book. It's weird that I'll probably never talk to you again. And you keep on reading me. 040424 ... jane i hope so. & i hope our nights are filled with flights of fancy. at the very least for your sake. dont forget to take_care_of_yourself 040424 ... magicforest you make me smile 040501 ... lycanthrope yesterday i was driving and i felt pretty free for a bit, sadness seemed more than happiness for once, the state to be aspired to. away from the crowd you can contemplate others and make them perfect. i thought, i'd like to die, but not in a bad way so much. if i told most people about this, they'd say stop being so sad or such a whiny bitch, but really i don't mind the consequences of my life, what suffering my perspective my incur to me. it's they who are being the whiny ones really. but they'll pull out the trump card of you're being selfish - which i am worried a bit about, since i might cause suffering to others. I find, though, that often when people say live - do it for yourself!! they really mean do it for us, without making us feel like it's for us. and which is nobler? On a side note i don't like it when people call this state a crisis since it implied there was a solution, that the crisis was impermanent. in reality, impermanence was the crisis. i started thinking about blather and wondering where were you all in high school when being exposed to all of these wonderful words and musical tastes and lifeviews would've meant so much to me. instead i had my norton anthology of modern poetry as a secret bible, and my regular joker/wrestler life. which i did enjoy for the record, and still do. weird thing is, when i think i could die or at least give up on taking too much for myself and attempting a life of service (since all things considered, for those to whom life is very serious it's the least wasteful of any "waste") i start to think about all i'm giving up. and the one question which stops my breath from leaving my body like a hitch, is "would you give up having a child?" I see some, any of the girls i've loved holding our child. I want to be the father of it. I would never half commit to that. it's at least somewhat okay to leave others - they want to pretend we're each others parents, but really we arent. but to be a true parent, that is important. i think people like children because finally someone who they can impart directly to all the things that matter to them, without feeling inauthentic or ineffectual. there's a pride in passing down all that's beautiful to you, without having to qualify it too much. like i'd read the child great books, play great music, histories of great empires, teach it russian? and have all the usual laughs. but if i was going to go off and be whomever, i won't have a child. I can only hope that perhaps i've had a child in a past life. if i know that at least once i've lived that life and lived it well, it wouldn't be so hard to leave behind that image of me, a woman, a child, a simple love life like farming the countryside that elsewhere is ravaged by war. i just felt so heavy the other night though, like us, like all earth, all life, all of the actual solid matter in the universe was the thick sludge at its bottom settling looking up pained as light danced on top of an impassable chasm living the golden life of god at the unity of top speed. on a side note, i also saw last night something which i enjoyed. it was the odd happiness as opposed to the standard one. a homeless person suddenly walking with bent tiger knees and wildly windmilling his laughing arms under the truly empty city sky was so preferable to the reunited lovers or the hard earned victories of olympics or american industry. Those happinesses seem to depend on so much else, on memory or future promises. But the wild instant variety seemed free of time, like a touch of god. It was the kind you wouldn't feel bad about bottling because it didn't have to mean anything and wouldn't cheapen the earned stable and gradual investitures and presence regular happiness is supposed to reward. and indeed people do seem upset when a homeless person seems to happy, they feel cheated to think it's that easy. That kind you don't have to put much time into. It was that happiness that made a dirty street suddenly glitter. That irrationality we call beauty (which was different somehow than some of the tired game theory of love which seemed more calculated). Also, I really want to see the movie van helsing. Nothing will feel more like how I saw the world as a child than seeing that adventure, and the ambigious righteousness of killing monsters. All of the horror monsters in one film, one adventure, it was all of the daydreams i ever had as a child. i suppose if i'm going to ever make anyone feel that beauty like i do, i'll have to explain it much better. 040502 ... nyeh yo pussy stank 040502 what's it to you? who go blather from