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2003-01-07 : 7:06 p.m.
An explanation...
Listening to: Radiohead (ok computer)
It's the only thing i could find to help soothe the nerves a bit... but yeah... the following may sound a bit nonsensical and in the very least- as a simple rant... but I am really, really, really, tired of the annoyance factor this diary has resulted in... as I love to write relentlessly... Chronically� sometimes until my fingers hurt� physically hurt� But for the first time in my life� I find myself in the most ridiculous of predicaments� 1) Self-censorship and 2) Being asked (or rather nicely� told�) how one wants to be portrayed and what I can and cannot say of them� for no other reason than, they want to be portrayed a certain way� to a public (that�s you kids) whom will never meet them� Well Fuck off!! Are you kidding�? And you honey... yes Shawn� come on now� I know you read my entries� and no� you weren�t the final straw to make me lock this shit� but it would help now, wouldn�t it? As a matter of fact, there is nothing on these pages that I don�t disclose in person to anyone� What bothers me, (in part) is that I don�t want to hear you or read from you� that you �fucked up�� and that you know you �hurt me��so on and so forth� stop saying these things so much... Believe it or not� �YOU�� yourself� you did not hurt me� Yes� I was heart broken and generally pissed for a multitude of reasons� but stop saying that shit� because you are not the damn martyr� so stop fucking doing this to yourself� stop it! Stop it! STOP IT! You�re upsetting yourself for something that is not true� NOT TRUE! Which is why I can still fucking care about you� because I am an adult and I understand, that you and I� cannot be� for so many external reasons� that you and I� in and of itself, have at the moment, no possible way of surviving� You and I are not an option� because 'You' have to take care of yourself� You seem to be taking things that are happening or things that I�m writing about� as some kind of crap that �you deserve�� or it�s happening because you �did this or that� to me� but that's okay... because you "love me"... and you really do want me to be "happy"... And the first segment, you know is the farthest shit from the truth� but when you say such shit- it makes me feel as if there�s some implication via the things that are happening in my life� that I am �trying� to hurt you in some fashion� When in fact� everything that is going on with me� at this very moment� Has more to do with serendipity� those wonderful accidents that arise, almost inexplicably, out of nowhere�and all its wonder, than anything else� To which i have been very honest with you about... And to which, I also have to add� I thought you didn�t want to read my diary anymore� what happened to that? (Ehhh� good god� Rage is playing on my headset� I may have to sneak off to a corner in the rest room somewhere so I can KICK THE SHIT OUT OF SOMETHING�) This is such an odd state to be in� because I can�t begin to tell you�how much of a wonderful mood I�m in� but at the same given moment, I�m just thoroughly annoyed with said crap� Because there is soooooo much I don�t already put on here� sooooooo much damn it. And then there�s this other nonsense that came about last night. Mind you� this following individual, specifically told me they would not read my diary or even attempt to find it, because they themselves know- they are a bit paranoid of people�s perceptions of them� And I agreed and thanked them wholeheartedly� because I didn�t want such ridiculous affirmations to interfere with my personal outlet� for my opinions, my thoughts, my view points, my memories, my life� So this person, whom we�ll call Meeks� says to me: �You know Alex I was trying to find your diary last night�� I�m actually a bit stunned, because of said info earlier� but I don�t break a sweat� and I let meeks go on� �You know I hope you�re not writing everything I tell you and stuff that happens�God knows who reads it� and actually I�m scared (so and so�s) friends will know� and then I�ll look stupid�� and meeks went on� disclosing more of such stuff. And I�m thinking: Meeks? You are one of the loudest persons I know? Are you kidding me? What gives you the right to take ownership of �our� conversations? So you can edit� and dictate what gets said and when? Oh fuck off! �Well Alex...� you my reader, will ask��Why do �such� people know about diaryland? Why did you tell them?� Well kids� I won�t lie� and not for what I feel are absolutely stupid reasons� and for the most part, the answer comes about, simply as a result of being asked things like: how I know J� or Fletcher� Funny enough� just about every single one of my friends know about this� but they don�t read too often� BECAUSE IT IS REDUNDANT INFORMATION FOR THE MOST PART� I don�t write about anything, I don�t already discuss verbally� end of story. And that�s not to say, that I absolutely share �everything�� there are obvious and very personal issues that I won�t discuss on an open forum- without the consent of said individual(s)� i.e. abuse, rape, or any other serious issues to the person in question. That�s a violation of trust. Which I will never waver on. A promise is a promise� and I will not make one that I cannot keep. Mark my words. But this is just ridiculous� Oh but it gets better� So I�m sitting in the telecommunications department of this law firm I work in today� I�ve been working on some of their billing� (not my usual routine or desk see.) But when and if I go to help out� it�s only for a few hours in the mornings� Now� there�s this woman named laura who technically acts as my supervisor if you will, while I�m there. Now� I haven�t been doing this sort of billing for too long� and I can�t emphasize how much I don�t know this woman. I mean� she knows nothing� absolutely nothing of my life� So imagine this� I�m sitting at this desk� calculating away, with the occasional jump on the computer to banter with this lovely boy� and drinking my second �grande� coffee. Now her office and the one I currently occupy has a door that connects the two� (that remains open for the most part�) We have the radio going and she�s humming away� When out of flippin� no where, from her desk she yells� �So how is your boyfriend?� �What?� I holler back and decide to take a sip of my nice, yummy coffee at this point� �Your boyfriend from England.� I hear. The fucking coffee goes everywhere� �What!!!?� �You know from England.� She insists� At this point my mind is just reeling� I mean� once again� I don�t talk to this woman� hell this office is fucking six flights up from where I�m normally sat� �I�m sorry� Boyfriend?� I ask. �yeah that guy from your diary, right?� My heart fucking hits the floor, the roof� hell� it just fucking stopped beating� Yet I remain cool� �Uhhh� well� umm� he�s not my boyfriend.� �Well� your �man� friend� whatever�� yeah, I�m thinking� �man friend?� what the hell is that nonsense? She then proceeds to tell me why she�s bringing it up� and starts rambling about questions concerning the monarch and Princess Di, and crap� Meanwhile, I�m slapping my fucking head, as I sit� totally bewildered in the other room� mumbling��yeah� sure� whatever� I�ll ask�fine�� And nothing else comes out� I�m shocked. How the fuck does she know�? So yeah I call Paola in a panic� because I really don�t need these people� of all people in on my nonsense� And to think� (and I know I�m repeating myself here)� but I really can�t emphasize, how much actually does not get transcribed from what I do write in my journals to diaryland� And that�s not to say I don�t want to� If anything the interactions that take place� due to whatever written topics come about� I�ve grown to enjoy immensely� And yesterday I found myself, picking up one of my journals and hiding it�(something I haven�t done since I was like ten). Which is not to mean anyone is going through my things� I just finally felt a bit irked over all this. But this is just ridiculous really� All of these little things and more, began as annoying� to then amusing� back to annoying� to where I am now� just fed up. But I don�t know what to do about it� and I�ve decided to keep this sucker locked, until I can figure it out. I�m hoping it can just buy me some time. Because shutting it down is NOT an option here. Oh yes... on a funnier note...my absolute love, Shari calls me last night... and after much chit chat... she begins to wonder why i haven't written about anyof our escapades... "I'm just waiting to get on and read about some of our crazy shit..." she says... and while laughing... Now kids... those are stories that any diary should be locked for... with a triple 'XXX' disclosure... Ah yes what fun... and she has literally told me... 'oh please... do tell'... they are just flippin' fabulously fun stories... Involving... whiskey drunk Santa Clause... spying on friends while they're having the worst sex know to man... jumping in with a nice group to err... shower... oh yes... and an interesting alley-way blow job... and a vision of legs propped directly towards the heaven... ready for pokage... that had me wanting to inflict blindness and dig my eyes out... okay honey... you can stop pissing in your pants from laughing so hard... Let the stories begin... this diary shall re-open for business...
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