me gods. 12 days and counting. that means that there will be at least 12 more rants...LOL.

Maggie complaining. It happens sometimes.

Perhaps I spoke too soon. Today, Tuesday I've run into difficulty. I sat at the black table at dinner and had nice conversation with a friend.

Chapter 1: Passing Notes

Darrel,
Maybe it was the phone call last night

I ask myself why can't catch up with people I see around me and I ask myself why I'm doing this.

As I emerge from the dining hall
tired, full
the world is as bright as the day is long
bright with snow
bright as winter
through the long white expanse, I walk
on paked down snow, cold and barren
as the frigid air that smaks my cheek
cold
barren
alone

I wish I had a portal, like Homer Simpson, so I could magically appear wherever I wanted to, at the push of a button.

Ahh, the possibilities.

In my job, I speak to americans. everyday, all day. all regions of the country, all differnt clases aswell. and one thing I have noticed is. For the most part they are dumb. I often wonder how most of these people make it thro day to day life,, they are that stupid.

Most have no concept of deductive reasoning, and the rest are so Naive in thier life, they would surely be the first to die in a cataclysmic global event.

I miss Riley. Where is she?!

I think there should be a student discount for vibrators and other sex toys.

In third grade I dissected owl pellets. Despite my usual enthusiasm for science, (I won the state science fair that year experimenting with the feeding habits of Lumbricus Terrestris (known to laymen as "earthworms")), I was deeply troubled- not so much by the pellet itself, after all, I handled the worms without so much as a murmur- but, as I now believe, by the concept of regurgitation. As my schooling progressed I was introduced to a more sophisticated form of pre-digestion: the textbook.

I'm on Oasis! I'm so excited. It finally worked.

So I guess this is where I just start to spill everything - who I am, what I'm all about, where I'm from...

Well, Sat. night I found out that I suck at flirting. I went to this big pompous formal event with tuxedos and evening gowns and everything. I was at a table with this guy I hadn't seen in months. (Let's just call him Andrew). I knew he was gay when I saw him last September, at a friend's party, playing truth or dare in the hottub. Wow.

here is a list of painful memories:
watching my parents shoot up
listening to my parents fight
watching my arents fight
talking to the cops about my parents fight
going to a jail, and seeing my daddy through a glass window, holding back the tears so i could talk to him over the little phone
waiting for hours to see my mom on my birthday, when she promised she would come, but then didn't show

um...here it goes...just a little background:

when i was born my parents were both drug addicts, i was born addicted to heroin and coke. when i was four things at home started to get out of hand, and my grand parents got custody of me. I guess i have always known that im not completly straight...in preeschool i had a "friend"...Chealsea...she and i used to kiss and shit...all the stuff we thought only boys and girls could do. Now dont get me wrong, i have been raise in a very liberal, accepting house...i mean, for god's sake...i live in San Francisco, and my grandma teaches human sexuality at SF state university! we always had gay family friends over, i i was told it was perfectly normal...that it was better than normal, that it was beautiful. However, that is not what our storybooks said, and that is not what the tv said...the media had a major impact on my beliefs and values during the very early years of my life...anyway, chealsea and i would kiss and stuff, but i always, to some extent, thought what we were doing was wrong...but at the same time, i thougt it was normal, that every other four year old was experimenting in this fashion...

Am happy, like the bi-polar mania kind of happy! LOL! I'm pretty sure its not a chemical imbalance induced happy, but I imagine this is what it would feel like to be on the manic end of the bi-polar episode.

Anyway, I painted tonight. It was fantastic. When I stop and then go back, I always wonder why I don't just do it all the time. Oh wait, starving artist is not my style.