and she said.. "how you interpret the dream is probably more important than the dream itself"

Dude, I remember the story about that show. I don't think I was in MTL for it. I felt as good as I have in SB tonight . . . I went out with my friend Deep. It was his b-day. We went over to the RC shindig . . . this is, Resident Coordinator. Now, for about the first time since I have left montreal, here is a group of people that I could see myself hanging out with on a regular basis. And I think to myself . . . Is it just that, after about a year, you have found a group of good people? Or is it that these guys are in the middle of a good vibe training - something reminiscent of Frosh* - and I meet them during this point and am very attracted. There is a girl, dude! with whom I danced a lot tonight, and I think it was mostly just platonic, and good dancing, but she has lovely skin, and is persian . . . and is going out with someone in the same circle. This would be like someone that brian introduces to the group coming in and stealing Lisa away from Tom. No matter how much we liked this guy . . . that shit would not fly! So that's my fucking dillema. But you know what? I am being much more fucking proactive. I already wrote about my teusday night. And you know what? At the bar, I saw this one guy that I know with his friends, and this other girl I know with her friends, and the one guy and I were catching up, and he bought TWO FUCKING BOTTLES OF CHAMPAGNE!!?! What the hell? He's fucking poor ass broke. I returned to find two bottles of champagne, which I assumed to be empty, only to have a glass thrust in my hand, and him say . . . "I thought there were more of us." NEither of his two friends were drinking! What the fuck. So I said - you got the champagne, I'll get the girls, and I went, and I shmoozed with the girl I knew, and I dragged her over, at which time she dragged her friends, and I was in the middle of girls and champagne and goodness. The guy & friends and I all talking spanish too, which mde us ULTRA cool. And then I had to go. But you know what? They will not soon forget that I hooked them up tonight. Myt friend Deep, who's b-day it is, got real drunk, called an ex, got real sad, and told me about the phone conversation for the rest of the night. Until he puked in my batchroom, (ha ha!, typo, but I'll leave it!) and missed the toliet by a mere one or two inches. I let him clean it. I am too old for that shit. But not too old to get wrecked . . . that's obvious.

The girl that I dig in this group told me several times what a good dancer I am. And being that I know I am NOT a good dancer, this makes me all the more interested. Damn. Dude. I did enjoy myself though. Once again, hit the pain killer. The hurt-no-more-substance. And you wanna hear a thought I had tonight? The edgiest music, no matter how anti-establishment . . . you are hearing that because some record producer out to make some dough has bought it and produced it, and distributed it. The man decides what we listen to, including the extremely purported anti-norm music like rap. They are saying, "look, I don't fucking like you, I am in jail, I am smoking weed all the time, I am angry at you and what you represent . . . " and look who buys it. Fucking middle america! Fucking, the kids in santa barbara! They're fucking establishment as pontius pilate. Hmmm. Didn't really think about that simile before wiritng it. Trying to figure out now whether it makes any sense. You bastard, btw, are taking me away from my sweet journal time. I love your girl, dude. I am sure she is the nicest girl in the world. I imagine that we will be friends, chatting near a christmas tree that you cut down one day.

Deep told me he loves me many times tonight. I don't doubt it. A year is enough time, easily, I think, to conjure up that emotion. I am really interested to see what you think of these folk when you come. I don't remember if I'm not supposed to talk to you during my rant, but fuck it. All you other people that are bored by my talking to batch . . . bring it. Bring it to a sign near you. Any kind will do. I will be so fucking tired tommorow.

But you know what . . . ? I don't even remember how bad I felt on monday. I remember that I felt bad, but can't even really understand why! That's to all you who need instpiration out there in web land . . . Better times are just around the corner. For me especially. Blaze. With the accent at the end. That's the word I intended to use the other day. Go fuck yourself. I have used to virus detection software packages, and the bastards have found nothing, and my curser still moves as if possessed. What up? You know what else I reaized? That everyone has a life as intricate and interesting as ours . . . For example, my grandparents! They have had terribly interesting lives. "May you live through interesting times," is a Chinese CURSE! Isn't that fucking interesting? My grandmother used to say that very often. I am working on universal love. Did I tell you that the fucking european is coming. She wants to stay for two weeks. Fuck. She better put out if she is staying that long. That's right. I'm a guy, and all I care about is SEX. So fuck the rest of you. I'm not misogynistic. I am just compelled by my brain to sleep with women, and to feel bad when I don't. I masturbated five times yesterday. That's right! once before going to bed, after writing my blog. SO FUCK YOU ALLL!!!!!!

Haah haaa. They don't care. But that was still funny. In a 'swinger's' kind of way. I myself am tempted to drunk dial. But instead I'll just post and publish. I think I'll print these out and paste them in my journal. Peace out.

A