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

But that becomes painfully aparent when you take a look at some of my buzznet photos. If there is a portrait, chances are something seems just a little off. If there are a few people in the photo than I probably look the odd man out - the guy that seems a little lumpy, not quite shaped right. If it's a huge group photo? - well than that's me, the complete freak.

And what can I do about that?

Nothing you can do about certain things in life but grin and bear it and one of these awful awful things, to me, is grinning and bearing her - the quickly-becoming-bane of my existence - the end-all-be-all-of-why-i-live - the what-if-i-decide-it's-over-i-should-kill-myself girl. Goddamn she's a thorn in my supple side like a knife to butter she cuts without the idea of the wound, she does not realize the damage done.

Fuck.

I hate her in the same breath that I speak her name with love and, well, I just have to ask how long it's worth it before, no, I won't take it anymore. I see from here the disrespect, the disinterest, and you know I'd like to say I don't have the time for this but... let us all be quite honest... I have all the time in the world.

Met some interesting people tonight at YUblog. You know, as if I were trying to spread my roots out from the tiny pot it lives in. Met some interesting people and yammered with Nika about some nonsense and honestly, it was all a bit surreal. Had to run out on them early because I had a show to catch up the street and even there it was a bit strange - people I know in a setting I didn't which made the whole night like a big dream sequence. And as if that weren't enough the icing on the cake was the lineup at my door - at my door - for the bar right below me. I had to go to the front of the line and tell him "Hey man, I'm heading up to the fourth floor". He didn't question me, luckily, and I got right in but a line - at my door. I don't know what I think of that. I don't know how surreal that is. I don't know where that puts me in the big scheme of things, I don't know if she is even thinking about me tonight at all, if even a single thought has flittered across her mind that maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe I mean something to her.

From a long ways away it looks like any other infatuation.. any other person recording their ridiculus crush on the web for strangers to read and sure, maybe, but I can't help but try to believe it means something, like I know this isn't the last or the first but it's important - so important that the way things fall, it could be the last. It could be the one..

But she doesn't want it. That's the bottom line. I gotta ask myself how long I keep myself hogtied into submission before I realize she will never want it. I gotta sit here and think about it.

I gotta sit here and think about it. I gotta sit here and think about it. I gotta sit here and think about it. I gotta sit here and think about it. I gotta sit her and think about it. I gotta sit here and think about it. I gotta sit here and think about it. I gotta sit here and think about it. I gfottsas it hereand thinkg about it. I gotta sitg here and think about it. I tgoatta ait here and think about it. I togbastta sit here and think about it . Igothta sit here and think about it.

God damn.

And the real crisis - I know, you thought it was the girl.. you thought she ruled my life with an iron fist - the real crisis here is that I'm finally taking pictures, real pictures, fun ones that I want to take.. and I just don't have the time to get them up here, frankly. I'd like to but you know, I'm a busy guy. This ain't all for you. I think for myself,

Every once in awhile.