6/23/26 - That's All I Ask

Its another broken record entry. You can skip if it's not fun anymore.

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How would you talk about it?

This is painful, at this point. I almost want to filibuster my own deposition a bit, you know... like, what is so tertiary in my life? I need something that I could bluff with, right?

I almost don't want to say anything about it. Because I'm so blessed, it seems disgusting to care so much. I should find a way to forget about it.

I am grateful for the love I have fostered in my life. I am grateful for tenderness, and touch.

But for whatever reason... I'm not able to walk above this sort of feeling, right?

I have lost the ability to think about anything else. I'm getting distracted, again.

I will be an adult and do nothing about any of it. That was a joke, for our true believers out there.

Im eating less to flagellate myself for remembering that feeling, of looking into her eyes. Not good, not good at all.

In my works, I emphasize contrasts in color. I always want to create work that feels colorful, full of life.

I'm starting to regret it. For her epithet,  I would christen her as a color. That was really fucking stupid.

Now I've come hate the contrast that I created. My family listened, you know... they bought me a watch, for my birthday.

And it was yellow. The perfect shade of yellow. Dandelion yellow. A sort of flower, Christ almighty. A perfect opposite. The key of my efforts, the definitive shade of it.

And she's everything radiant on the underside of the wheel. Im unsalvageable, now.

My tire needs replacing, so i went to handle that. It was a blessing, y'know, to have a setback like that pull me away from that kind of greed.

I remember Gatter telling me of her commitment to one day living with her beloved across the ocean. There's a kind of nail-biting impatience you can get when denied something that feels so close, so certain.

In many ways, I do believe I am who I hang around. In all of my friends and family... I see myself.

Cronkite has seemingly let down the harpoons for the moment, and I am envious of his ability to pursue that kind of "necessity" I've been too lacksidasical to follow through with.

I had a close run in with Satan Hitler, actually. At an event hosted by [Dolores], I was caught off guard when they walked through the door. I dont think they saw me. I made my exit before they could perceive it was me in that house.

I'll have no more surprises like that this week.

Other notes:

We need to be less licentious. Whenever I think about that, I should write instead. It's too much.

Ill see you guys soon.

6/17/26 - War and Peace

I want to stop loving her. This can't good for my mental health anymore.

It's just a matter of psychologically malajusted limerence. It will pass if I allow it to.

Maybe I shouldn't have agreed to the conference. Maybe I shouldn't have allowed myself the pleasure of her company, the warmth of her conversation.

Maybe it's just my imagination running away with me.

I just want her to say no. I want her to tell me to go away, to give it up. It's too much. This uncertainty is too much. I want to remember her in my every waking moment. I want to never think about her again. This is unnatural and emotionally perverse.

I want to stop asking her about her day. I want stop itching for that knowing. I want to be incurious about her feelings, her life, and her worries.

I can't stand knowing it. I've allowed myself to be infatuated again.

I have been blessed to have a gaggle of friends who love me quite enough. I'm not by any stretch starved of touch or affection, right... 

So why can't I let myself forget these feelings? Why do I need to feel her embrace? Why can't I let myself be superficial?

For her, I wish I knew nothing.