07/29/2003 - 11:44 p.m. | i'm gettin' better at the small stuff

As kisses goooooo, it wasn't anything out of the ordinary! The alkaline lips, the fingers hooked around my belt! You know, normally I don't like stream of consciousness bullshit, but fuck normally, you know? Today I welded and someone has put up a sign on the wall that says, "PLEASE... Refill the racks when you are done with your shift. THANKS" I always fill the racks up, so this is not my problem. However, now I have to stare at this sign all day. The words began to lose meaning. "THANKS" seemed absolutely insane to me. Anyway, I really want to make a sign and hang it up next to that one that says, "PLEASE... Do not put up passive-aggressive signs by the welder. THANKS" Then Loony Pete came and I was relegated to orchid rings, followed by winding for most of the day. I felt sick, but that's hardly new. Spray paint makes up 30% of the air supply, I reckon. Today, Lowell had a pocket protector. An honest to God pocket protector. I thought those only existed in Stereotype Land. Anyway, I ask him, "Is that a pocket protector?" Yep. "So your pens really do just explode all the time?" What?! "I have to get back to work." And then I did some stuff and came home and watched more "Dark Angel" and ate stupid sweet corn and here I am. Vanessa called. I can totally just rattle on about anything. I am gung ho about making t-shirts. Tomorrow. Or maybe Thursday. But I'm really gonna do it this time. Promise! So, obviously, you think I'm gay, right? Or just... entirely uninterested in the female whatever it should be called. Good point. I've got it quelled as much as I can, but you can hardly fight genetics. Sometimes I just want to clear my mind so badly. Makes my eyes twitch. So fuck it. Fuck fuck fuck. Good, though. This is healthy. Clears things up. "Everyone's got their poison." I swear, I am bloody brilliant. I could be a lot darker. Perhaps I will be. I could go for blood. No, no - totally think I am neutral. I am milk; no, that's a base. I am water. Clearly. *rimshot* But maybe now my head will be clear, and I can just focus on... what's there to focus on? Niagra Falls, for one. Yep, those are some good falls. Two buttons on my keyboard do nothing at all. Watch as I press them: See? Nothing! I'm rather unassuming. Actually, that's putting it mildly. I make no forward movement at all. Not that I should or have the right to. I just don't. But I'm everyone's friend, you know? Everyone's friend. I'm not good at meeting people, but man can I incorporate them! You wanted understanding, though, right? Good or bad, you wanted it. And now you've got it, so don't pussy out. Workin' through it. Honestly, how could anyone ever want this? Just nevermind. Sometimes it's just the unlikely retard hanging around. Playing the cello? No. Everyone just assumes because I'm not an asshole. I'm like Cory Matthews. Empathy blows monkey shit. Just do what you want, and you get what you want. But I don't have the prereqs to do that sort of stuff. Because I've got nothing much to offer anyone at all realistically. There are lots of people who could easily take my place, so I don't think I should be regarded as anything the least bit special. I'd just be another... comparison, I guess. I'm glad I don't reveal too much. Ever. Because I'd just get smacked around by it. Bai eet. Did I brush my teeth already? I think I did. Which only leaves washing my face, which doesn't help... I'm just... so annoyed. I wish I could put things more eloquently forth to you, but I'm not that good. Don't do anything stupid. Don't do anything stupid. Don't do anything stupid. Don't do anything stupid. Don't do anything stupid. Don't do anything stupid. Is this getting through to you? Nothing but bad consequences. Nothing but low self-esteem. Sorry about the self-esteem dip. Just ignore me when I start those. Sometimes the thoughts inside get to be too much, and I try letting them out for a bit. I shouldn't do that. Why bother anyone with any of the crap I perceive as a problem? It's all gonna float by pretty soon anyway. "Like water under bridges, you're slowly passing by / As you sail between the rooftops and the skyyyyy" Wandering guitar. Or koto. That's a Japanese stringed instrument. Wow, my stomach is absolutely killing me. Absolut Death Pain Ow Ow Ow. It's just this damn optimistic streak that I can simply not bring down. I wish I could... because I always have hope even when I know I shouldn't. And the hope gets shot down, and even if I tried to prepare myself for the worst, it's not any easier. I'm sick of feeling what I'm feeling. I would just like to feel sort of a clever nothing. That's pretty easy, isn't it? OK, so perhaps my non-threatening nature makes me special. Like... I'm always there, and what intentions otherwise would I have? Hmm. None. And you should be right. In a perfect world, you would be right. And yet my flaws uncurl, and it's the same old thing as everyone else. At least I hoped I wouldn't annoy you how everyone else does. But nah - here I am, several novellas later, still writing this vague or maybe not vague crap. We're 100% sure now, though, right? Don't underestimate Mr. Optimistic Streak; he's fiesty. HINT: Someone died.