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Another request to settle down at work last night. The doctor says I am being very immature. She also says that sex is separate from a relationship for men, not for women. Is that what Chrystine was thinking when she fucked that guy on the way home from that party where she was locked in the bathroom with her ex-boyfriend while I was being surrounded by baseball bat wielding thugs? Or Dawn when she sent me home on her birthday then picked up some guy downtown, brought him home but ostensibly didn't sleep with him? I'm such a fool.
Yesterday I dreamed that you were Divine... a beautiful, sacred being to be honoured and protected. Knowing I'd never be worthy of you, I chose to serve you. And I failed miserably at surfing.. Mel's invitation to a wine and cheese gathering had me excited until I wondered if she might be trying to set me up with Lisa or Lee or both. I was still willing to risk it until this morning when my mother berated me for wanting to buy a bottle of wine. Between my mother, my doctor and coworkers, I've lost much respect for older women.
I called my father to ask if he would pick up a bottle of wine for me but he was weird about it too. I'm not pleased. I feel I am being controlled. Okay, control this... I renounce Christianity. I reject my ancestry. I denounce Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism and all religions that oppress women, abort daughters, beat and burn wives, practice female circumcision and call women unclean for their natural bodily functions. A PAGAN, I have been born and raised under the tyranny of foreign gods and rituals. I never had a choice. My future wife can decide.
Any religion that creates divisions between people should be outlawed. The Great Spirit includes every man, woman, child, animal, plant, and indeed the whole of the earth, within Its infinite embrace. That religions have arisen and created conflicts between nations, murdering innocent unbelievers in the name of whichever bloodthirsty god or goddess is evidence enough that such flawed and incomplete ideologies must not be tolerated. Of course mankind will continue to miss the point and thousands will die for the sake of their belief in a partial truth. Tolerance and understanding or total annihilation through persecution... the choice is yours.
Yeah, I'm probably in love. But what's the good of it when everything's all screwed up? My loyalties are splintered. I don't even know if some of the fragments are real. I guess love means a hug now and then and fond memories of people who led me down a garden path until I couldn't find my way out. I miss Lori. When I was new at my job and scared to death of everybody, she was sweet and kind. Lori, wherever you are, I want to thank you for making an outcast feel welcome. You are a wonderful person.
I am sick, probably from drinking tap water. My energy level is dropping. Dan is in the hospital... I am worried but can do little. He seems in good spirits at least. My doctor seemed to be aware of my financial difficulties before I was. I decided yesterday to throw it all away. I am not looking to buy love or sex or friendship or anything except self-respect, forgiveness and trust. Please understand... NOBODY OWES ME ANYTHING. I only wanted to make a difference, to make somebody's day, and, quite selfishly, to atone, to make amends for my many failings.
Dennis, I think you are such a nice guy and all I have ever done since the day I met you and your incredibly wonderful female companion is cause you both headaches and trouble. I don't deserve to know either of you. But you treat me like a brother which just shows how great a guy you are. I think the very best thing I could do for everybody is to get out of your lives as soon as possible. I just don't know what else to do. I can't remember anything and I'm afraid I might hurt people unintentionally.
‘She's not my girl, she's just hired...' Thanks, Matthew Good Band, for another reason to want to die. Dan says, ‘See what God will do? He'll make you regret your words...' And even from the hospital he makes me suffer. I can't speak to him anymore. I didn't go to Melanie's party. I won't go to dinner with Lee. I must leave everyone. You were my last friend and I alienated you by feeling too much for you. I miss you. I promise to someday learn to surf in your honour. I only wish I could have heard you speak.
There is no end. I went to the police yesterday to confess to rape, sexual assault, etc. And while Cst. John Wyatt is a really nice guy and treated me with respect and decency, nothing has been resolved. I don't understand why everyone seems to think I like little boys... sex with a child? NEVER. I walked out of the station into wind and rain, got soaked trying to find a cab, and got home late in the afternoon. I called Al, who doesn't remember the accusation. He called Emily who doesn't remember either. Only Lisa can clear this up.
Yet another warning to stop slamming trays and furrowing brows... I can't expect him to understand how it feels to hate yourself. I can't expect him to know how it feels to have failed womankind, father, mother and punishing god, to feel so forsaken and unforgiven. To make matters worse, I complained about Kevin and Brian. Sigh. So again I must try to tone it down and I owe two more apologies. I miss Glen already. Thank goodness for Art... he can get me laughing on the worst nights. Thanks Charlene for putting a little spring in my step today.
Asymmetrical bodies produce asymmetrical pheromones which smell wrong to the opposite sex. I will never find love. My scent drives all women away. My only hope is to have enough money to pay some prostitute to live with me and pretend she doesn't find me loathsome. Why go on? I watch heartless criminals pick up women with ease. I hear their lies. I witness how little they care about the women they use. But women flock to them, drip from them. It follows that the ability to lie, ruthlessness, etc., are adaptive traits. Kindness, compassion, honesty must, therefore, be weaknesses.
I spilled my guts to Wes and Val last night... They are willing to work with me still. We are in agreement that I should seek a new doctor. Short-haired Brooke has a nice voice and a cute laugh... and do I remember sparkly opalescent polish from summer? Above the Earth is right... pretty toes are not that common. But no matter. All I can do is watch and yearn. I envy the very sand beneath your feet... alas, I am not so worthy. Let your every step be upon rose petals, glistening dewdrops, softest down, finest silk, perfect pearls.
Each morning I leave work at daybreak and my bus passes a street that bears your name. Small wonder you are never far from my thoughts. You were the prostitute who so shocked my father. And where is Tracy whose jacket you share? Do you ever think of me? Please don't waste your time. I am not worth the powder it would take to blow me across the road. I am so tired... probably too tired and too old to keep up. I might die trying. I only want peace, freedom, companionship. I will probably have to settle for solitude.
How I miss that little grey jacket with its tight hood. Most of all I miss your soft voice. Sigh. Please don't ever think I was referring to you or your best friend when I was shouting at women. I was just remembering previous sweethearts... she who took my virginity, gave me mono and a yeast infection, then told my friends I couldn't fuck... she who scratched, ‘Asshole,' across my graduation photo, the woman I loved with whom I lived... who loved to dance, to flirt, to party... I never had a chance. Chased down, chewed up and spat out.
The Ides of March... I am inconsolable. Even if I am forgiven I will never be able to forgive myself. In my mind I am, and always will be, a monster. Exile eternal... Siberia... Elba... Nod... East of Eden. I bear the mark of Cain. Nobody can heal me. God doesn't give a fuck. The best I can hope for is somebody to keep me company and ease my sorrow. There are animals, of course, if womankind spurns me. All I ever wanted was to be close to somebody. As usual, I have driven everybody away. I die for you.
An email from Bernie suggests that I call a friend. I don't like to leave messages... I never know what to say. So I call Melanie. She is very sweet. She chats with me until our bladders are screaming. She wants a doberman with droopy ears now... good! Beagles are so rambunctious. I am tempted to ask her if she is Zina, but think better. When she asks why I hate myself I hesitate... I don't want to lose her too... She says it's okay for me to call again sometime. We say goodbye. I go to bed feeling hopeful.
I clamber out of bed at 2am with a headache and dizziness. I take my medication and eat muffins. I am in the mood for sushi. Last week Gordon said, ‘You must pick up on the weekends, do you?' Ha! Pick up? Pick up the phone, maybe something to eat. Nobody cares. Nobody wants to be with me. Maybe what I call love is merely infatuation, a childish crush. Not that it couldn't very easily become more. A drunk girl falls down in front of me... I walk on by and let her friends help her up. I fail again.
What kind of demon am I to imagine that any woman would or could forgive rape and sexual assault, would want anything to do with a rapist, could possibly love such a man? I can no longer live with the burden of having committed these crimes. I can't just turn off the guilt because you want me to stop feeling sorry for myself, stop giving away power. Try living with the pain of such failure and inhumanity. Pretend everything is fine, that you are okay. Look people in the eye. Lie to everyone. Fall in love. Imagine there's a chance....
You stupid, stupid fucker! How could you be so completely naive? You deserve every second of exquisite agony. Torture doesn't begin to address the issue. Abomination! Burn in everlasting fire! Die a thousand excruciating deaths and still deserve eternity in flames. Throw away life, life's work, possessions, dreams, faith... it is NOT ENOUGH. Redemption cannot be bought. Repent in vain. Beg for mercy. SUFFER! On your knees! COWARD! Women spit on you! WEAKLING! Can't you hear their laughter? WORM! Back into the rotten soil from whence you crawled. Live in fear. Feel the wrath. Writhe in torment. Taste divine justice.
People don't know how much I like them. Amy smiles at me and my night is off to a nice start. I want to see her belly dance someday! Derek probably doesn't know that he is one of my favourite people. I'm quite nervous around him still... I have so much respect for him. His dark sense of humour and easy laugh have helped me through many hard times. And his crisis prevention tips may help me out of a jam someday. Eleanor is really sweet. And Judy. And Janet. Dave Middleton film-fest tonight... Get me the fuck outta Dodge....
I miss Tracy from KOD. I might have eventually asked her out if I had been given a little more privacy and intimacy. But no. I will not ask anyone out. I am so fond of one but I am trapped by another. I am at Emily‘s mercy. If you were Zina, everything might be okay. Is that what this is all about? Was I to be cleaned up and nicely dressed to apologize to her for touching her? She must know how sorry I am. Okay, so Lynn is right. I am not ready. But she hasn't forgiven me.
Last night while walking to work, I passed two girls who began to giggle and one of them said, ‘Please don't send the police!' Are you fucking with me, wise-asses? They went into the Oasis, not surprisingly. Camels. At the coffee shop I listened to a conversation in Spanish at a nearby table. Of course I understood nothing... I just love the sound. Later, after a chat with Gordon on the street, a girl in a scruffy leather jacket caught my attention... on her back was painted the eight-pointed CHAOS emblem... a sorceress? Tonight... proof's first annual Whine and Cheese....
Yesterday I dreamed that you wanted me... that you loved me. I was in heaven. It was difficult to let go and feel the joy, but my fears were beginning to disappear when I awoke and you were gone. I tried to keep the bliss for a while but it was no use... reality returned, cold and hard. Oh... how can I describe the emptiness? Seeing you tonight was painful. I miss you. Melanie doesn't seem to know that I work Friday nights and can't watch Oz. She could care less. Emerson's mother has passed away. I am so sorry.
I called you again yesterday... twice this time. Whoever answers is very sweet. But I didn't even know why I was calling... to apologize? What am I supposed to do? I think more of you than of anybody I have ever met. But I think of Emily and Lisa and I know I will never be whole. I am lost. I do love you... in my simple, broken, childlike way. But it becomes stalking and I hate myself for it. I can't keep bothering you like this. I'm sorry for calling, for writing, for emailing, for messaging. I am ill.
Kelly and Jason were dating when he hung himself. A few days before, Kelly and I were hanging out and ran into him and his band downtown. It didn't occur to me then that he might be insecure about my friendship with her. When she told me about his messages and that she hadn't heard from him for a few days, I tried not to worry. That night she called me in tears from his building. Later that night it fell to me to identify the body. Jason... and Dennis... I am so sorry. I am an insensitive fuck.
Imagine that people knew something about you that embarrassed you. Imagine them wielding it over you, making you cower in the fear that they might ruin you at any time. You are helpless. What should their punishment be? Imagine now that somebody took words you spoke in a drunken stupor, words you can't remember, and destroyed your life with them because he believes in nothing... to prove himself right... to win an argument. What should his punishment be? Imagine that this is your life. Imagine that there is no escape. What would you do? Suicide looms large and beckons insistently.
The falling girl... Resha? Hence the flower seller nearby and asking me what that was all about. Why is everybody playing games with me? Is Fred somebody's father? Too late for any plans... I have gone insane. I may reject happiness and prosperity at this point if they were offered to me. I am so utterly decimated. I have betrayed everybody. I am become slave to lust. My sword is broken, rusted, buried to the hilt in the mire of regret. With no mistress to serve I sit in the mud, wasted and ruined, the knot of insanity strangling me.
Weirdness... A very close likeness of Melanie on the bus. Sunrise between twin towers. An engine falls off a plane and our work is delayed. Eleanor has beautiful but expensive dogs. Angelina Jolie is the perfect woman. Pizza, pop and bunnies. ‘Some people will never be satisfied.' Fuck off. What am I supposed to do? Your loose lips locked me in this time round... you and Mike. Thanks, insensitive, gossipy fucks. People like you ruin lives like mine. Have you never felt ashamed? High boots and smoky jacket on the stairs this morning. More blood... I may have been raped.
Good Friday... Cheeseburger for breakfast. Beautiful dark toes at the bus stop... but they went to the back of the bus and I was afraid to follow. Sigh. I heard them talking. ‘I know why he's sexually frustrated...' SIGH. Why? Because I am convinced that I am terrible? Because I am in love? I attacked Kevin last night over nothing. What is going on with me? I am so impatient and lashing out at people... and cats.... Sunkist... apple, banana, orange... And what do you do when somebody won't accept a gift? Does she hate me so much? Apparently so.
I awoke this afternoon to the sound of a musical voice... possibly familiar... it spoke of chatting with somebody online and getting turned on, of driving a U-haul to Boston, something about California and Florida, of somebody really sweet opening the door for her, something about an elevator. Clearly this has nothing to do with me. Still, the voice was remarkably pleasing and I had just been dreaming of the sun. There was much coughing. Digby smelled beautiful tonight when I got up - feminine. And he seemed very happy. I wish I was Digby, meeting all these adoring women....
Happy Easter... shaved naughty bits this morning. Itching. Toilet clogged again. I spent an hour or two with my parents for Easter dinner which was nice but stressed me out. This is my fourth time listening to Slayer today... earlier I was crying to Heidi Berry... My heart aches. No rebirth. It is finished. I have no more hope. I just want my life to be over. Love demands that nightingales remain free. How will I know if I am truly loved if my beloved is caged? But alas, she chooses to make her nest elsewhere. I'll miss you, soulmate.
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