its still early and im already listening to the softest music imaginable. the night time can creep up on us any time there is blackness in the air. i have never once seen someone cry when there aren't any shadows around. it is physically impossible i have concluded - listen to this (especially):

do we all want the same thing? inevitably who doesn't want an outspoken man or a softspoken (luft-waffeln!) woman, i choose the later with all her weightless tendencies and shell by the seashore voice, the way she dug her toes in the sand and ran up and down the coast collecting sand-dollars, how she says she likes it when i fall asleep to harsh vibrations in the air and end up dreaming about ice cream, the way i joke with her friends and tell them im ABSOLUTELY IN LOVE (i am, but in a less hysterical [probably MORE hysterical, in actuality. i really think we're the only people in the world that romp around in the mornings and talk into each other's body parts]way) - copying their tendencies and drunkenly expressing the same thing with a different name, T having to run out of the bathroom and cover my mouth before people start getting the wrong idea. . .

the right idea would've been:
this asian kid with the long hair wanted to chopstick this white devil up,
pushing her against my dragon (what do you call those things that sorta look like they fold into four or five places, those tall shade-like things in the movies that people dress behind? i don't know if this is an accurate description or what, how they walk around all black and shadowy behind these iron curtains, and whether or not my audience has a word or no words to satiate my desire to crush the english language) curtain and yelling (hibachi! hibachi!),
"take me, take me into your SECULAR world!!"

back on point:
we all want this perfect human being, the one that satisfies both our physical wants and desires and our emotional and psychological needs. to deny its (sexuality) importance in a healthy relationship is completely asinine - for example, i asked t the other night if i could dress up like a sheep and have her fuck me with a hockey puck[or a fedora, but she didn't {and STILL doesn't probably, even after i told her what it was in normal conversation} know what that was], and she declined. i ended up falling asleep shouting, "GOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLL", to which she angrily retorted, "WELL ONCE YOU FUCK LIKE WAYNE GRETZKY THEN I'LL DO WHATEVER THE HELL YOU WANT!"

this gave me two complexes:
1. that i didn't fuck like wayne gretzky, who apparently is one of t's plethora of ex-lovers (we call them the b-team, as her last name is braun and everyone who ends up sleeping with her has needed counseling directly afterwards [why can't some men resist certain seashell girls? i can't blame them, i usually roll around with a giddy smile on my face {turning myself into a blanket burrito in the process} spitting at the ceiling and having it fall right back on me, enjoying the glow of god's rain {i love how ridiculous i can be; i also love the squiggly parenthesis. t and i both agreed they are the best}])

2. that i had a girl who wouldn't be able to act out my sexual fantasies, no matter how sensual and breathtaking they might have been.

it's all an act,
if orson were here (see: f for fake)he'd tell you that everything i've said for the first three paragraphs were true, but everything after that, due to the cunning and wit of the author in front of you, has been false. teresa and i aren't even dating. she's going out with a walrus and i've started to date a macadamia nut. though the complexes and transgressions are similar, (not in that sexual or crude of a fashion, use your imagination here {doesn't it bum you out how few people really have an imagination these days? sometimes i lust for my action figures and silly putty back at home. it's hard not to play with toys when you've been used to playing with them all your life - and why do i do this? to clear my head of any negative thought, and to be a six year old again in the process}) we have a beautiful way of working things out. and once the situation lets us have some sort of semblance of a NORMAL relationship (hopefully when i'm closer, in montreal, if not, hopefully during my prime writing and acting days so she doesn't have to worry about a thing financially or spiritually) everything really feels like it's going to work out all right.

what was i saying? oh yes, back to my original point.

all of this talk stems down to one of my best friends, who i may or may not actually be in love with (i haven't really decided. despite all my talk about her, i've never truly decided how i actually feel about her. once it was known that it wouldn't ever work out, i sort of stopped trying to feel anything. it's impossible, but we all have our impossibilities and lingering feelings of love that are known to be trapped but are really wrecking havoc all over the place. don't fret though friends, i am composed and happier now {and funnier too!!!}, with little chance of an emotional outburst), saying how she wishes "there were different men in her life who would understand the painful little subtleties in the lyrics (shins), different men who stood out of the morning crispness like artwork" (And why not? part of being youthful is being promiscuous! how else are we supposed to satisfy and enjoy our earthly companions?). I tried to paraphrase it, but her direct quote is much more poignant and eloquent (as usual for her, despite her seemingly not having any creative direction other than the way she can make people laugh with her completely genuine and playful little heart of hers - t pointed out how she liked the way she approached our favorite lounge band, the mixed nuts, and i agreed), and seems to show how most human beings tend to feel after the saddest music in the world has been playing. . .

note:
everything isn't so serious, so please don't twist my words into something i didn't intend for them to mean. i love and like to be loved, and i think it would be awfully unfair of me not to want the best things for my friends, for them to have their deepest and most important desires, that they all die happy and content and satisfied, all with common memories that will hopefully ease the pain of whatever comes our way in the near near future ~ ~ ~

since i have already forgotten (i have the memory of a ninety year old man!) what this entry was originally supposed to be about, i'll pause here for now and say,

i want all of you to find your futures and stick with them. the past and present can be so crummy so find the flavor of ice cream you want to be eating for the rest of your life! i know it's simpler than it sounds, and i dumbed it down a bit to look cute and dreamy and charming in that way, but i really mean it so take it to heart.

i don't think i know anyone who cries over the pain his friends endure than me. so quit being so sad you guys
love,
-george