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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in I'm the President of your Fan Club!'s LiveJournal:

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Friday, April 9th, 2004
3:10 am
[artistboi]
im from wingedflame
i believe that you've seen white trash. i think you used to roll around in it for kicks
wow
1:24 am
[artistboi]
thanksgiving
i'd be interested to see, if i type cast 12 kids, of different types/personas that i thought about during elementary school, and how they grew up to be in hs. all eating dinner together, by the end of the evening, would the people naturally gravitate towards the most obvious stereotype. then would u say that it is a culturally reinforced stigma?
Saturday, April 3rd, 2004
2:47 am
[artistboi]
"you're such a kyke, you know, with your verbal superiority to everyone, you're SUCH a Jew!"
_Matt_
Saturday, March 20th, 2004
4:03 pm
[artistboi]
I always imagine it would be easiest to start from the present, and then return to the past, moving chronologically towards this destination that proved to have the best insight to the world. I think there's just some great mirth, in the ability to tell a story twice in one account, hitting it at the begging, and then again briefly somewhere in the middle. I was not a writer, so that process led to no great irony.

Even thinking things out in my head tended to befuddle me, some sense of self worth was meritous in writing your own story out, including all the details, no one ever wanted to know, but was fascinated to read upon release of your 15th hit novel. I wasn't interested in writing for others, I personally get a kick out of anyone's accounts of reality, preferring a good story about life to any great work of fiction. No, i just wanted to make sense of this bizzare occurance we consider this the best nation in the world.

So I woke up, late, slept even later, cuddling up with my faithful companions, the cats I'd adobted directly following my mom's last bout with cancer. My throat had hurt for a few days, but nothing serious, my life had been plagued by chronic throat infections, so I'd learned to take them with a grain of salt, and resting when I felt that their permenance might take over. So a few cold and sinus tabs into the morning, and a few hits off the pipe I returned to my bed to finish reading my newest breadth of intellectual fresh air. I imagined David Sedaris as this slick young man, barely older than me, living life with a hohum attitude and a smile constantly brimming across his attractive face. In reality he must be pushing 50, the little photograph on the back reminds me of a squinty eyed man I'd met a while back, but that story will come later in the earlier sections.

I've always been attracted to fanciful self realizations, and spent years photographing things in my life, that had no meaning, with the knowledge that sometime later on, I'd be able to draw these millions of photographs together into a single show, that proved something that I discovered over the course of my long life. From the moment I opened Me talk Pretty one day I knew I had an innane desire to write my accounts of life, the brief glimmering moments that make up my most fond memories. The style of Sedaris' novel made me want to sit and talk with an old friend, recalling moments in super markets and amusing annecdotes of the heat of blacktop on bare youth feet. It never really bothered me that I wasn't a writer, because, it was an autobiography, stories only I could tell.

My memory is twisted, it always has been. My mother complained that I never remembered the good things that happened, but rather always recalling the instantanous moment of disasers that struck riggorously throughout my childhood and adolescence. A certain calm attracted me to writing, by somehow examining and explaining the events in my life, i could build a firmer foundation than any that had been provided by family, friends, or society.

I don't know what my earliest memory is, I used to think it was when I was 1, and then I thought it was when I was older, but in all reality, those early memories are nothing but an amalgam of stories of my life told to me by those older and a box full of snapshots that still lives in the house of my youth, tucked away on a bookshelf in the corner, untouched for close to 10 years.

My earliest most vivid memories surround the daycare I was brought to from the age of 3. It reeked of the 80s, being born in 81, the style of the children's moment circa 1984 was in full swing before I even hit kintergarden. My memories of Daybridge consist of a smell, that has returned to me many times through out my life, one that I equate to institutional preparation of food, what I gather a prison must reek of daily. I remember the playground, and not feeling like I fit in. The apprehension of being in a bathing suit around other kids I didn't know, and the converse appeal of the sun shining down on skin as it was struck by a hose.

My life consisted of a typical southern experience after the boom of collective consciousness the hippies had tried to propogate in the previous two decades. My father was a throwback from that generation, still wanting to discuss existentiallism by way of Carlos Castinata and Ann Rynd. A common joke during my adolescence revolved around a series of escalating monetary amounts that would be provided on the occasion of my completion of Atlas Shrugged. Starting with a Christmas Gift in my early teens, the bet began at 50 dollars and after each successive year of lack of interest would accumulate its own interest, rising to well over 200 dollars, a bet I never won or lost depending on how you viewed the situation. The book remains to this day, hidden in a box of books, at an unknown location, burried beneath the depths of my childhood fantasies.
Thursday, March 18th, 2004
4:25 pm
[artistboi]
Micahel Hartsell
3614 BROKEN LIMB CT
WILMINGTON NC  28405-8801
Friday, February 20th, 2004
10:54 pm
[artistboi]
j: i know the feeling
me: haha, i'm sure
j: ive caught myself rationing my cigarettes\
me: i don't leave my house
cause i can't afford to
oh smoking is the only thing getting me through this
or making me like this
either one
haha
Monday, February 16th, 2004
8:30 pm
[artistboi]
12:11 am
[artistboi]
from Gay Slang dictionary:

dyke:
1. lesbian, usually negatively, to stereotype them as masculine. It has been used recently by lesbians as a term of pride to mean a strong, independent person lesbian.See lesbian for Synonyms.
2. an aggressive lesbian Synonyms: amy-john [late 1950s]; Apache [1930s] brother-girl; bull dyke; big diesel; big diesel dyke; cat [1930s]; collar-and-tie [1040s]; dagger; dandysette [rare 1940s]; derrick; dike; Dutch girl; fellow; gal-officer [dated]; girl kisser; goudou; goungnotte; grousse; he-she; horsewoman; jasper [NYC late 1960s]; jota; king; king stud; lady-lover; lasser; lesbo; major [1940s]; mal-flor; manflora; manny; mantee [1940s] marimacho; mason [dated, 1940s]; no-nuts [1970s]; pansy without a stem [mid 1960s]; pantalonuda; penis-envy queen; polone; poppa; pot; queer bird; queer queen; Sapphist; she-male; she-man; shesexual; shim [dated 1940s];
3. girlish homosexual who will conduct himself in a aggressive effeminate fashion. [dear why are you coming on like a dyke are you trying to impress that Adonis over there.]
4. hermaphrodite, a human being with both male and female sexual organs, though one set is unually underdeveloped. see hermaphrodite.
5..--a lesbian, frequently one with attitude [Submitted by Rebecca Scott, A Brief Dictionary of Queer Slang and Culture]


in fifth grade, ryan kimbler called me a "fag"
in the bathroom at mt. sterling elementary.
somehow i already knew that this was a bad thing,
though i had no idea what it was. he called me
this because he caught me staring at him in
the bathroom, though i was actually staring at
him because i had asked him a question that
he apparently didn't hear and didn't answer.
i think that's when i started battling the
whole of gender construction and sexual orientation
construction.
a lot of things happened in middle school,
i found my first sexual attractions to both
boys and girls. i found my excitement with
confusing people about my gender and sexuality,
i formed my "i don't give a fuck what anyone thinks"
policy. i had girlfriends. high school came and
i had girlfriends and boyfriends (of almost all
of them were just flings.) my sexual behavior or
attraction stopped at the end of freshman year.
i calmed down. except i began to panic about my
attraction to guys.
i knew that i was fascinated with "alternative
lifestyles." i had a hard time coming out to
my parents as a democrat, let alone a "gay?"
that's the only word for it i had. i didn't
know anyone else that was gay(?), i had my
suspicions of some people. i knew my band director
was a lesbian, and i knew another lesbian in
columbus. but i knew no gay men.
i have always had a strange gender role.
it was always like i was a masculinized woman.
i respected the women in my family far more
than the men. i thought of men as womanizing
and useless. i can remember this as far back
as fourth grade when i remember being thankful
that the only male teacher in the elementary
school left the year before i got in 4th grade.
and then in 7th grade i remember calling my
only male teacher a putz (except for mr. jones,
who later that year turned out to also be a
womanizer.)
by senior year i came out to one friend, lindsey,
as bi, in a rather heated discussion about our
hatred from madison-plains. it was never talked about
again.
i went to college, got a new chance. hide in the
closet for a few more years. dated a bit.
had sex with no one. continued hating men,
developed a hatred from women as i kept
getting rejected and getting involved with
the wrong ones. came out the beginning of my junior
year. decided to be exclusive with men for a while,
realized that gay men hate bi men and didn't understand
how i could act femme and butch at the same time.
and now i'm back to a wonderful woman and
loving it.
have strange relationship with the gay world and
the straight world, neither really accept me and
i don't really accept either. i'm still a big feminist,
even in the bedroom. i'm very independent, but very dependent.
i'm very free-willed, but very goal-oriented.
i'll have conversations with fixing cars and
wearing pantyhose are in the same train of thought.
i'll listening to punk and techno off of the same
burnt CD i made. i still identify as a feminist while
i shop at express mens. i call myself a dyke.
i get hard from people that turn me on emotionally
and intellectually. i call myself a dyke,
but in reality i must be bi(?)
Friday, February 13th, 2004
10:24 pm
[artistboi]
AIM IM with harmonygreen
9:51 PM
boredom
yeah...impatience...
thats exactly why i'm bored
what are your plans for the night?
party
same here
i have 2 friends coming from different sides of the city
i live in the heart of atlanta
listening to the courtney solo album 'til i get my drinks
right
and i have a friend in the suburbs and a friend on southside
they're both being slow
the party starts in an hour, and is like 45 minutes away
mmm. that fails
haha i just talked to one of my friends
9:55 PM
she's on her way
well, they better get their ass over there soon
ok
hahaa indeed
her son hadn't gone to bed yet
but its cool cause he had a friend over
man...son...
i'm gonna feel mighty old when that happens to me
how old r u?
god, my friends started having kids at 16
twenty
she's like my 10th friend to have a kid
wowee
well, she had zion before i met her
i'm only 22
yeah...
i still don't know anyone with a kid
yeah, i went to a majority black hs
and a lot of people i knew were very very poor
but cara is cool
zion is even cooler
they look like rockstars, both of them
she's a bit older, 24/25
10:00 PM
haha
i used to have an image of them online
but i don't anymore
hmm...
what kinda party u going to?
a disco one, i think
lol
really?
is it at a frat?
yeah, something random like that
nope
or the like?
a gay person's dorm?
lol
i think it might be...at a gay person's apartment
hehehe
but if that's the case, we probably won't stay long
yeah?!
u should stay all night
10:05 PM
nah, i don't do too well with my comrades...
never really have
unless they're bisexual
yeah?
yeah
not many people dislike me
i tend to get alone with everyone
well, it's not dislike
it's just that i don't hit it off with them
nor do i pretend to
why?
i don't understand
i think the way a lot of gay men act is inexcusable, even if it's just a reaction to all the repression they've had to manage
do u discriminate against more "gay" people than u are?
how do they act?
overtly sexual and misogynistic
wwwwwwhat?!
what do u mean by misogynistic?
they think that they rule women?
before i make a sweeping generalization by saying "a lot of gay men"
i'll say this has been my experience
yeah, i understand
the majority of what i've met
i'm just trying to see where u are coming from
i know that u don't know the larger populations
well, more like...
but u can make generalized statements about the experiences u've had
women are just companions, just as faghags treat their gay friends like accessories, rather than people
don't feel embarrassed about that... its cool
man, thats a shame that thats your view of gay life
i'm sorry, that blows
well, i'm glad i don't have to explain myself more
well...
most of the guys u know are young though, right?
mmm, no...i know some older men
like a teacher-friend of mine...
wwww what?!
a friend of mine who's a teacher...was my fifth grade teacher...
he's gay and i don't view him like that at all
well thats good
i think a lot of conservative gay men as complete assholes
but honestly, other than him, there's probably a handful of people i know that aren't like i described before
yeah, i agree
ya, i understand completely
i have just stopped associating with people like that
so it is really confusing
to me
yeah, i never did the clubs
i guess is the right way to put it
or anything ruthless like that
haha
yeah, bars are much better
do u drink?
haha, yeah
i want to go to some of the "good" gay bars in the city, but i don't have a fake id
i went to one and it was pretty nasty
just the behavior...
overcrowded, terrible music and a pinch on the ass from wandering hands as you pass by
too much of an age gap...
early twenty-somethings and then the middle-agers
yeah
thats trashy
u gotta be 21 to drink in a bar
in my book
and nyc, so it's a lot of black clothing and fancy accessories
?
ugh
oh, you mena...
about the older people?
what do u mean?
what are u asking about?
10:15 PM
the "you have to be older than 21"
comment you made...
yeah
i don't like to see underage kids get fucked up
i'd rather they learn how to do that in a house
with other kids their age
its like a rite of passage, to drink at their place, or in their dorm
haha
before they can really go to bars and be social
u gotta learn to hold your alcohol before i wanna talk to u
i talk to this hunter college student's who almost nineteen and he was telling me about his terrible gay bar experience
there's nothing sicker than watching an underage kid puke in a bar
lol, what's hunter college?
wait
and how he got shit-faced, did pills in the bathroom, made out with an obscene amount of guys and didn't remember any of it
maybe kim was talking about it tonight
its in NYC
yep, it is
well, i've done what he did so many times
it's on 68th st., i believe
well, not usually tons of guys
ha
usually with a new guy every time i did it
i've been drinking in bars since i was sixteen
well, seventeen
i used to roll in this bar, ground zero, but they didn't serve alcohol
i'm still paranoid about going up the bar, but i know how to behave
yeah
roll? you were an e-tard?
i used to drink at mjq when i was 17
lol, yes, i guess i was an etard...
well, yeah,. definately i was, but i'm not anymore
lol, its been like 3 years since the last time i've rolled
yeah, that's when it was big
and it was few and far between the last while
i never tried it
umm, it is really nice, in the company of your own home
with someone u'd like to get to know emotionally
yeah, i just didn't like reading about it's effects...
or the pictures of the brain
right...
10:20 PM
::rolls his eyes::
most people
that roll also do tons of other drugs
and don't eat right
and don't drink enough water
and stay up for days at a time
and smoke cigarettes
all of that has an effect on you
one single pill, is only gonna make u feel happy
as long as u don't get into it, hardcore, it won't fuck u up
yeah, but i have an addictive personality
lol
e isn't addictive
i was already ashamed that i was so dependent on cigarettes...
or k
g kinda is
it is fun to roll
and u get a group of friends that like it, and they all wanna roll together all the time
that is addicitive
and have depression, so i didn't want to get into something that was supposed to make me happy just by having some money on hand
but the drug itself isn't
yeah, e is pretty bad for people with depression issues
that becomes addicitive
that emotional release from depression
because it is counteracted, by depression the next day
it goes away
but u feel terrible the next day
yeah, i heard coming down from it was terrible
for everything that goes up, has gotta come down
naw, it isn't terrible
yeah, no thanks...
unless u use it to often
it is just stupid
and u don't understand why u are unhappy
it isn't anything like other drugs withdrawls
like methamphetamine
that is the fucking worst
tina
coming off it is like, sitting in a dark alley after killing your mom, while running from the police
it is soooo serious
Monday, February 9th, 2004
1:16 am
[artistboi]
downward spiral?
Two day bender- bloody nose, body ache, smell of sex, dirty sheets, two full ashtrays, blow throat, red eyes, barely audible voice and severe nauseau/vertigo/abandonment.


(Post a new comment)


artistboi
2004-02-08 22:15 (link)

i feel u
its been a while
but thats everything
thats ever happened to me

don't worry, in a couple days u'll be normal again.
it always happens, u just gotta know its coming.
Saturday, February 7th, 2004
7:45 pm
[artistboi]
an aim conversation to me
and by the way...i love you mentally...don't know if i'm IN love with you mentally
but totally respect and love the way you work
6:06 pm
[artistboi]
ani d- to the teeth
and if i hear one more time
about a fools right to his tools of rage
i'm gonna take all my friends
and i'm going to move to canada
and we're going to die of old age
Friday, February 6th, 2004
6:40 pm
[artistboi]
fergus evans
A History of My Life Thus Far or A Disenfranchised Small Town Boy Trying to Make It In the City
1980-1994
it hurts to be androg when you're only 14

Everyone asks me if I'm a boy or a girl. This is probably related to the fact that my hippie/ drugged out mother has decided that a too-long bowl cut is the best way to accentuate my johnson & johnson baby soft hair. That and the fact that my boobs grew alongside all the semi-senstitive girl-children who took me under their wing. My life consists of avoiding anything vaguley alpha-male. At least my boobs have distracted them from the fact that my working class family dresses me like a Wal-Mart explodes on me. I draw lots of pictures and make a home for myself in the back of the classroom, avoiding at all costs the teachers who think the best way for me to reach my potential is to proclaim my genius in front of a student body I'm trying to be invisible to.

1994
life is better when sondheim scores it

Almost overnight I go from a shy, in-the-corner kid to being a brazen in your face ACTOR. Even when I say the words out loud, the caps are articulated. I try to find myself in well-intentioned high school slaughterhouse productions of a mostly white cannon of playwrights, drunk on the idea of being the next big thing. This period is marked by the definite I-Have-A-Boner-For-The-Hot-Swim-Team-Captain sick knotted up tummy feeling of sexual denial. I try to smother it by trying to woo a fundamentalist christian soprano that my mother tells me, "looks like an immagrant grandmother."

1995/1996
hey, if i'm so gay, why am i sad all the time?

I come out like a rocket on speed. In a week or two, everyone on the planet knows I'm gay, and suddenly all the girls love their neutered little boyfriend. I am told on more than one occasion, as I lay cuddling with pretty girls in their beds while their parents sleep with sound minds, that it's so nice to have a male friend who is so sensitive and caring. This statement is always followed by the Contract Signed Statement that they'd be pissed if they found out I wasn't gay. Suddenly being gay feels like a prison statement. I'm the GAY ACTOR (wow, that's a lot of caps), and I haven't so much as held hands with a boy. I figure it's best to play along. I talk about high fashion, even though DKNY was never made for my roundinthemiddle body, and I'm still wearing JC Penny drag my once a year gift certificate shopping spree has afforded me. I try not to think about what my father looked like dead on the bathroom floor. I study Wicca and grow my hair long. I work at Renn Fest. I've been gay for a year, but I've been an outcast my whole life.

1997/1998
i want you to trip like i do

I become a full-fledged suburban druggie. I smoke sheap weed out of coke cans before rehersals, place candy colored tabs under my tongue. I pay special attention to my clothing. I want to be as edgey as Target will allow. I drink absolut straight from the bottle, smoke joints in my basement. I sneak liquor into school in gatorade bottles and ask a boy out. He breaks up with me a week later after making out with my best friend, an awkward girl just short of pretty with orange I'm-a-blonde hair. I jack off the first guy who says he loves me under a bridge, wash him off my hands in the lake my subdivision was named for. I hate it when he touches my roundinthemiddle body. I kiss him as hard as I can when no one's looking and stop returning his calls when I can see he cares. I spend summer nights sucking cock in dirty apartments. I trip all night on the back porches of friends' parents' houses, and am suprised when the sun comes up and my pale face is smeared with Newport ash. My friends are pretty girls with blue liquid liner who sing at the top of their lungs "So close no matter how far/ Couldn’t be much more from the heart/ Forever trusting who we are/ And nothing else matters..." I have no idea who we are.

1998-2000

plur blur

For three hours before my first RAVE I clean mud off of my older brother's refelctive strip Vans. I know nothing I own is cool enough. In the first fewTHUMP THUMP moments of my first ever RAVE, my best friend's boyfriend hands me a double stacked mitsubishi with a slyness I know immediately thatI want to learn. The next few years are about scoring pills and squinting at the after-the-club-sunlight. I hate my mother and so I move into the guest bedroom of my best friend's house. It's the first time there has been an endless supply of Little Debbie snack cakes and sit down family meals. I feel rich and special, even when I pass out while selling hemp at the mall, even when my hands won't stop shaking, even when my friends use their pussy to score us pills. I'm convinced that RAVERS will change the world, that it's all about the music and the love. It doesn't seem the least bit ironic to me that my friends are allon probation, that they steal from their parents to pay a $30 cover for a party all about the music, all about the love. When I get kicked out my guest bedroom, I can't stop crying. My friends by me microdots to cheer me up.

2000/2001

the big city

I enroll in a state college to get away from my mother, who I still hate. I've been living on a mattress stuffed in a corner of my little brother's room, who hates me almost as much as I hate my mom. At least I'm in the big city now, I think. A few years before I had spent a few months at NYU before the school told me mother had never paid my tuition. Going to a state school has nothing to get an education- I go to this school because the dorms have seperate bedrooms. I apply for as many credit cards as I can and use them to buy as many designer clothes as I can. My roundinthemiddle body has gotten smaller from using grocery money to buy cheap wine in jugs and packets of cold and flu medication, which is a much cheaper high. I smoke glass witha guy who wants me to suck his dick, but he's too afraid to ask. He has a gun in his closet. No one seems to mind when, fueled on whatever is going around the party, I start having sex with strangers on my friends' living room floors. I work at theatre in midtown, and everyone there is really kind. On my 21st birthday a married man I work with feeds me drugs all night and when I can barely stand up he grabs at my crotch and mumbles in my ear that I'm "barking up the wrong tree" only I'm not the one doing the barking. I'm the one picturing his wife's sweet round face and thinking please god someone make him go away someone stop him I can't stand up I want to go away...

2002-2003

the ethics of hypocrasy

For a moment, I think I've found my way out. I go to a leadership retreat my school sponsors because I can't afford to pay for a vacation on my own. For fifty dollars I spend a week talking about integrety. It's like I've found a new drug...I'm suddenly high on the idea of do-the-right-thing. I lose most of my friends when I come back clean, but it doesn't matter because I have new friends who say things like "What I'm hearing you say is..." and "let's try to reach some consensus on..." It takes me maybe three months before I smoke opium so good I feel like I'm melting into my bed. Most of my new leadership friends say hateful things about each other, but keep friendly, community based sniles on their faces while they do.

2004

liberation theory tastes best when served with
consumerism

My friends start smoking pot by the bushel and where cleverly ironic tshirts they find at thrift stores. I see no problems espousing anticonsumerism while shopping at Urban Outfitters. I come out as a radical queer, and this time coming out isn't as easy. I criticize my friend's drinking problem while I smoke her weed. I have become a walking contradiction. I'm not as radical as I'd like to think, even when I drink fair trade coffee and take women's studies classes. My growing enlightenment is tied inexpicably to the expansions of my gauged out ears. I talk theory like it's a nother language, and it sounds deceptively like my native tongue. I want, more than anything, to find a theory that explains why at 23 I still hate my mom, why I still try to forget what my dad looked like dead on the bathroom floor, why I can't make my heart stop beating so fast, why breathing gets difficult, why things feel better when I'm stoned until oh my god I start thinking while i'm high and my life seems to scary, why even my best friends feel like foriegn countries, whynothing feels like it's going to last, why I still give blowjobs to strangers and tell myslef this is it this is love this the one you'll be happy and middle-aged and middle class with, why nothing feels permanent, why I find it so hard to believe in anything for more than a year or so...
Wednesday, February 4th, 2004
8:22 pm
[artistboi]
jen.. a message from our favorite recent nonsonter
i had really fucked up dreams last night
a nightmare about flying
and a fucking weird sexual dreams about probably too-young boys
12:34 am
[artistboi]
from joel in aim
i want to get a video of you.....playing twister....only it would be in black and white and there would be some sort of sympathetic or slow or sad....just not upbeat music playing, and the only other noise that we'd hear is your little giggles fading in and out from the background. i think it would become a timeless classsic.
12:22 am
[artistboi]
boy: you're insane
boy: but it's ok
boy: i kinda like it

me: haha, i get that a lot
Tuesday, February 3rd, 2004
1:00 am
[thedjrob]
first post, if allowed by aDAM
Hey adam, I saw the legomyego post on your journal and had to post. It was sooooo funnny. Last year or the year before; when ever that Iraq war thing was going on; there was this huge protest at G-State. Everyone was yelling at eachother. The dirty libs where all "no war for oil" and the repub's were like "people are dying for your freedom", so my roommate and I made these posters that said "Legomyego" and "your mom likes war" and were getting people to chant our slogans. We were even in the news paper....come to think of it I was the photo editor for the news paper then... hahahhahah. I loved those "almost like waffels" commercials.

Current Mood: sleepy
Monday, February 2nd, 2004
9:53 pm
[artistboi]
there's this force
stronger than any of us
its all of us
not moving the same
but constantly pushing

we can't cling to what we have
but embrace the change
9:41 am
[artistboi]
jason's post
When I was younger I used to "try" to spend the night with my cousin Matthew... he lived exactly one black from me and we'd plan to spend the night together all the time... ALL THE TIME...

We'd sat up late, watch Night Flight on USA (the Lionel Ritchie "All Night Long" video comes to mind) or a movie like Superman 2 (THE BEST!) or Swamp Thing (If you find this on DVD buy it for me and I'll pay you back!)...

Then, just as it got time for bed...

I'd want to go home. And I'd call my Mom and she'd meet me at the driveway of my aunt's house (which was almost half way between Matthew's front door and and our back door)... And each time I'd run so fast to get home - that kind of running like in a dream where you think someone is chasing you...

And everyone just put up with it... and I don't know why... because I was young I guess...
Thursday, January 29th, 2004
10:41 pm
[artistboi]
[I think I'm gunna go for a walk now, I feel a little un-steady.]
dont you hate when you get to a point in your life when everyone and everything, you know and love or hate is going in about a million directions and all you can really do is be a passive observer, and wait for all the mess to settle so you can be your self again.
sometimes i feel like ive been waiting 6 years to be my self, i almost feel i dont know who i am, which is probably true, im sure im nameless.
i hate not careing, cause honestly i really care.
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