7/15/99 - This might turn to be a pretty weird weekend for me.  I know, it's only Thursday evening, but the way it's shaping up, it might be pretty unusual.  Gonna probably chill with a buddy tomorrow and probably get high.  OK, so that isn't unusual.  But, Nicole is going to be in town for Saturday only, and while she's got a lot shit to do, it is mostly gonna be in either Beverly Hills or the western side of Santa Monica, and I'm right in between that so hopefully we'll get to hang for an hour or so. 

Somebody was telling me recently that I need to jump without looking in certain situations. I've realized that I'm pretty damn neurotic.  When I was younger, I thought neuroticism and psychoticism were sorta the same thing, and only lunatics and homicidal maniacs were afflicted by them.  But now I recognize that I am neurotic -- always questioning other people's motives and thoughts.  It's pretty damn paralyzing, and as I can see now, it hasn't exactly gotten me very far in the world -- I mean, just look at me! Look at me!  You can't can you, b/c I'm so repulsive and depressive to look at, aren't I?  What, oh, that's right, you're looking at a computer screen so of course you can't see me since I don't have a web cam or some shit like that. 

My stomach's churning. I should be all happy and excited about nicole and my othEr bud, but somehow the thought of that is diminished by my aggravating Akiyo and the other confusing emotions that are running through my head.  I wasn't gonna mention this, but what the hell, this journal seems dedicated to tales of my self-embarassment -- I bought Akiyo a birthday gift.  It's a $100 gift card to Bloomingdale's off their web site.  Since she's moving and all, she doesn't have much $$$ to be spending on clothes.  There's a Bloomingdale's right next to her office in Century City.  I want her to look and feel pretty, even if it's for another man, like Greg.  The gift card should be arriving tomorrow, but since she's only working a half-day b/c it's her birthday, she might not get it, since it's being delivered via 2-Day US Mail to her office.  I don't know what she'll think when she gets it.  Well, she'll roll her eyes and silently curse me.  Beyond that, I dunno.  She's clearly not happy with me for some reason, and I'm not gonna push it any further -- there's no use to it anymore. I'll just get more and more depressed, which only leads me to get suicidal. 

Besides...there is a much larger consideration right now in my life that I'm avoiding talking about here.  I've sorta been working around it this whole week.  No, I'm not going to jail, or in any sort of mortal danger.  Just emotional danger.  "Danger Haole, Danger!"  Yeah, fuck you, you big stupid robot, don't you have some little kid to molest?  Huh?  Oh, sorry, I'm just talking to this big invisible robot next to me.  I'm fine. 

Rather than just prattle on endlessly about how the emotions in my head feel like Taco Bell, milk, and spaghetti in my stomach, I'll just shut up now.  But here's something to chew on, with two key phrases omitted.  I wrote it for my not-public-at-all journal.  Y'all can have fun playing mad libs like yer back in 3rd grade, while I sweat out my daily existence:

"I ___________ last nite about _ _____ ____ for the the first times in years.  A faceless lover, but her body and beauty kept me enraptured in ecstasy.  I wanted to give that feeling back to her, to be like no one she had ever had before.  Of course it's like a _________ __________ ________, and I really don't know what she wants, or if I could measure up to that.  But she was everything I wanted and needed."

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