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11732004

These are the first sober words I've written all week. Wait. Never mind, I'm starting on my third glass of wine. Still, this is the closest I've been to sobriety in awhile.

I just talked to two girls who each used to have their own special place in my heart, but have now faded into friendly acquaintances. One of which, I'm surprised we don't yell when we speak. I can tell that the friendly discourse is refreshing to both of us. The other likes to give me advice about girls. I must admit that she's often wrong, but sometimes she does serve to reinforce my intuitions. Take it slow, she says. Don't be in such a hurry.

This seems like strange advice coming from a girl who jumped on me and said "fuck me, already" the first night we met.

Whoa. Fourth glass of wine. Did I just type that? How crude of me.

I could be cruder. Want a masturbation story? The story is: I've only masturbated once in the past two weeks. It was this morning. I shit you not: once in two weeks, twice in one month.

Okay, new subject.

Last night, I discovered something new about my roommate. He has a BA in environmental science. I've lived with this guy for almost two months now; I'm always talking about environmental stuff, and he's never mentioned this. He's studying computer science now, and has only talked about the environment with what seemed to me to be feigned interest. Suddenly when there are girls over, all he wants to talk about is his background in environmental science. This is just one more clue into the mystery of Pablo.

Seriously, I don't know anything about this guy. Most of the people I've lived with, about 18 roommates in all, I barely knew before we shared a space together. In fact, the worst outcomes of living situations were ones where I moved in with friends. There�s something I like about strangers. I guess I just like to trust people.

Anyway, I was mentioning past girlfriends and whatnot, and I realized that when I meet people I like, I usually know right away that I'm going to like them. But, sometimes the feelings I have are so much more intense and confused when I first recognize them. I prefer this. I live for passion. However, for the other person involved, it's often much more confusing and burdensome. (Unless of course that person is a sex-thirsty bundle of female hormones, or a drug-crazed lover of chaos, in which case I become quite a convenient person to know. But this is not how good relationships usually start. Or is it? I don�t know. I just want to close these parentheses.) The question I�ve been asking myself is: how do I start with these intense emotions, and build a stable relationship upon them rather than letting them fade into redundancy or overwhelming the person I feel them for? I don�t know. I don�t know if it�s even a valid question. Maybe I shouldn�t care. Maybe I shouldn�t think.

Knife In the Water. I�ve been listening to these two songs every few hours today. They fit my mood so well. sad and happy. melancholy and enchanted. Every lyric is true. Isn�t it?

Fifth glass of wine. I�m surprised at the amount of free booze I�ve been getting lately. This bottle did not even require any illegal actions. I should go find a social activity, or at least read some sort of philosophical essay.



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