Hey gangstas! I'm actually writing a journal entry that isn't poetry! Craziness, eh? So things have been pretty lame-tastic lately. I guess the gods have just taken a major dump in the toilet of my life. Nothing really tragic or massive has happened, but nevertheless I feel like Shit City, U.S.A. A large part of it is probably insane teenage hormones and holiday blues, but the rest of it is just a big jumble of little things that vex me like no other.
I'm missing a lot. First of all, I'm missing my super rad tennis coach who moved away a few months ago. I miss everything about him...his face, his walk, his voice, his crazy lil' Colombian accent, his old Camry with dirty clothes on the floor and a lingering scent of Old Spice cologne. He was so important to my life and the way I lived it that I feel lost and confused without him. I'm not gonna lie; he was the greatest thing to ever come into my life. He taught me so much more than tennis...gave me so much more than lessons. He gave me purpose, hope, strength, encouragement, faith and above all, love. Without these foundations of life, I feel this building called Matt is about to collapse. But, I have found another tennis coach and will hopefully start lessons with him sometime this week, so maybe things might start looking up.
And the second item on this menu of angsty pastries is A BOY...the necessary accessory for every creature with three legs and homosexual tendencies! I really don't care if this Y-chromosomer is a boyfriend or just a friend, as long as he's gay and spiffy. I just need someone to talk to and hang out with who can make me laugh till I piddle one second and then make me shake my head in wonder from the amount of understanding and insight he has the next. I don't really have anyone right now whom I can actually talk to about everything that's worrying me and know they understand. I have a friend of the female variety whom I can talk to about most of my problems and who is pretty zombie orgasm (the new phrase for "cool" which I made up :-P), but she just doesn't understand what I'm going through since she hasn't had experiences similar to mine nor is she queer gear. So I guess I'm just feeling lonely, which is never good times.
Well, there are a few more lil' devils bothering me, but I'd just feel like a pussy if I ranted about them, so I guess this is adieu. Thanks for reading ladies and gents...stay classy, Oasis!