13 October 2004

Already October? Where did the 13 days go? I don’t think I’m properly keeping track of time.

An old friend wanted advice the other day, called me and such. I wonder is this person a friend? He seems to mainly talk to me when other people are unavailable, when things are not going his way. I suppose my cynical nature is somehow comforting? I’d assume this is a friend that just uses me a bit. Annoying. The only part I really mind is not the separation we have after he is past his periodical episodes, but rather the uneasy conversations that I start when obviously I am unneeded. Makes me feel like I’ve wasted my time. Maybe I have?

Either way, he’s less and less frequent, so it’s alright. Now Nick, Nick I want to talk to. Sometime. Talked with Laura tonight, confessed my love and the usual random things I say. She really makes me smile, albeit she is almost twenty hours away, I’d think.

I hate these blogs because they always just recap things that I don’t care about. When I read over them at a later time, I just get anger to what I wrote. Same goes with other people’s blogs. I even hate the word “blog” — as described in my original entry to this journal.

I suppose this entry is all about bitterness and hatred, as usual. I can’t think of much that is positive. I feel aloof from everything anyway, so I doubt that it’s really all that bitter. Maybe if my gas cap would come in, I’d be in a better mood. “This is your life, and it’s ending one second at a time.” How very true. I think I’ll try and get some reading time in. Reading about Chuck Palahniuk makes me realize how unimportant everything is, and that makes me happy. Happy that I have no reason to care about what I care about.

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