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Regular One - The Journal of ...
Note: This raw document is now the pathetic substitute for what was once a glamorous journal. This is all that's left. This journal is not edited to the usual LoserNet standards. It has been restored to "public" status after a brief hiatus. This journal should not be confused with the Journal of the Mind.
Thursday October 14, 1999
I could have added incredible drama to the journal by just allowing my finances to collapse into oblivion. However, I made an eleventh-hour effort to forestall my demise. For now life will continue as it did, only I'll be further in debt. Does it all matter in the end? I don't know. I saw Elena, the exotic dancer, at the gym this afternoon. She is back at the university. Another strange encounter with the handmaiden. I am going to make this brief today as I will be making my final entry to the [UJ] archives. Thank you all for being here for the ol' lavahead.
Friday October 15
I am not sure what to make of my strange encounter yesterday with the handmaiden. At the halfway point up Koko Crater, she prayed aloud to give thanks to the Creator. Then, she thanked me for "bringing [her] back to God." As we descended the crater, I heard the usual accusations about how I was responsible for the loss of custody of her progeny. Then, in another breath, she told me about how great it felt to be "unencumbered" without progeny or significant other. The continuation of the same lies is what really disturbed me. I could list them all, but what is the point? I chose to be there so I can blame no one else but myself. Still, I am baffled by the encounter. What purpose did it serve? Only the sages can answer this question, if they haven't already.
I felt no real physical attraction for her, although there were brief moments that I felt as though we were still together. I asked her if she was happy. She said yes. Today, I felt a surge of melancholia. I was sad because I felt so alone again. Perhaps that was the handmaiden's purpose. To remind me of her power, as one of the sages had predicted would happen time and again. As some may have read in the [UJ] archives, I have finally made peace with her in my own heart. For that reason, I have ended the archives permanently. The story is fini but its legacy will continue. I will no longer mention the handmaiden unless there is something essential to the story line.
I have much to do in my own life. I have to pick up the pieces from my near financial demise. I have to discover my own sense of purpose. If I ever find myself in another relationship, I must remember my past mistakes. I cannot continue to dwell on the handmaiden's problems or her transgressions. I have finally been emancipated. Life hasn't been bad to me. I had a great time with the handmaiden when things were going good. I should never forget those moments nor should I let the present taint the past.
The discovery of who I am and what I want to be has been preempted for over 40 years. I am still a nobody in a world of wannabes. Each day, I must fight my way through the masses of people. Squirrels all trying to get a nut. Each looking for a slice of fame or fortune. The big break. The Big Time. Fools, every one of them. Yet, I seek a way out of obscurity as well. It has made me impatient. Angry. Bitter. The real problem is that I don't know what I want in the real world. Only in the surreal world of monks and monasteries do I know exactly what I desire.
The separation of the real and the surreal grows by the day. I must determine which side I want to exist in. The question is really moot. I live in the real world. To escape requires me to lose my mind. Psychosis. It's not bad. The rift keeps me alive. The fantasy is my dream and my only hope in a dark, cynical world. My goals are, therefore, nebulous. They are multi-dimensional which may be why I cannot visually capture their essence. Some say that the next dimension is quantum. I say it's spiritual. Our souls are locked in a biological shell which is deteriorating each day. The soul itself interfaces with the physical cells of the brain. These cells are the source of our memories. As those cells diminish, so do our memories. It is the life force that is held captive. The spirit. It seeks freedom but, without the biological host, it will dissipate into space as light from the sun. Sometimes I forget that the soul is held captive but it is not imprisoned. The biological shell interfaces well with the physical world. A beautiful world that only our eyes can see, our noses can smell, our tongues can taste, our hearts can feel. What really is the life force without our bodies? I once wished that I could be a spirit being, with the power to transcend the laws of the physical universe. Yet, the true beauty of the creation is right here.
As stupid as this may sound, I've discovered that babes are the most beautiful creatures in all creation. A gift to man. A complement. There was a time when the spirit sons of the Almighty noticed the beauty of the daughters of men. They transformed into male human forms to be with babes. Those were the days of the Nephilim. Some may laugh and find this the stuff of legends. I believe that it happened. It is within the power of the Creator to produce the perfection of beauty and femininity in the form of woman. A gift to men, as we men are a gift to them. If the spirit sons of the Almighty could not resist such a temptation, how can I as a mere mortal man resist the same? Asceticism will come much easier than monasticism. This is now my quandary as mortal man. Who will deliver me from this?
Saturday October 16
The fire water is what delivered me from my own stupidity. What the hell was I babbling about yesterday? The lies I was privy to listen to on Thursday have taken a toll on me. I should have expected as much. I realize that the whole purpose of the encounter was to set me up for destruction. I had been forewarned by the sages, so I should have been forearmed. I am finally coming around to believing what Paul (in Seattle) has prescribed as a means to exorcise the demons that plague me. I'm not sure how I am going to accomplish the task of finding a new babe, even if my intentions are transient. So far, only the fire water has provided any kind of relief.
Neal (email@example.com) has provided me with good reasons to keep my six-four:
On to manly-man stuff. You wanted input... you got it. I says keep the six-four. There's so much you can do with it, and you can get some satisfaction in learning the beast and its idiosyncrasies, even if it costs you a little money now.
Jeeps are full of Zen. They develop rough-and-ready self-reliance skills the likes of which you'll never experience with a Z3. Fixing your YJ to your liking will really set you apart - in a positive way - from the Mercedes Boys of the world - and you won't have a $35K car loan (or an expensive lease) to worry about.
My six-four has been through a lot with me. Not only did it remain my trusty friend during the time I was homeless, it also endured the long back-and-forth shuttles from Cali to Oregon. It's also one of the least expensive convertibles to maintain. And, some babes actually like them.
I now know why I went off on that treatise yesterday. I have identified the source of power that babes have over guys. That power was not a matter of chance or evolution, which also explains why the serpent approached Eve in the Garden of Eden rather than Adam. In turn, it was Eve who persuaded Adam to commit the Original Sin. Adam would not have been convinced otherwise. If a serpent approached me and tried to sell me some useless trinkets, for example, I'd kick its ass. If a babe like Jenna Jameson tried to sell me useless trinkets, I'd buy the whole product line. Just kidding! You thought I slipped, didn't you? The bottom line? Beware of strange serpents bearing gifts. Let me present my case in another way. Have you ever noticed any babes downloading hundreds of image files of guys and storing them on CD-RW format? Exactly. However, guys do this all the time, which leads me to believe that the whole mass storage industry is driven by this phenomenon. Do not mistake this for perversion. Rather, identify it as the power babes have over guys. By the way, that Jenna is a real babe!
As I come to a greater understanding of life, I also become more disillusioned. Some may feel that I'm on the verge of psychosis. I disagree. I often wonder how anthropologists and sociologists can function in society after observing and noting its quirks. The key is to maintain a level of detachment. Nonetheless, true knowledge will make anyone an outcast. If I didn't see the game for what it was, I'd be more willing to play it. Ignorance is bliss. All that to say that I'm not sure what I'm going to do anymore. I have no idea why I'm attempting to function in society. I have nothing in common with anyone else. I'm a wage slave just so I can pay for my paltry existence. I have no desire to acquire anything more than I have. I have no other purpose except to find some kind of meaning to life itself. As I look around, I see no one like me. Everyone is content. Everyone is having a great time. Their goals are materialistic. As I sit in Barnes & Noble, I observe all the guys clustered around the car magazine section. They may only work at Burger King but they want to be Mercedes Boys. If I had followed my own plan, I could have been close to a millionaire in about ten years. However, I deviated and squandered my dough. I have way too much out in loans. And, I refuse to make riskier investments. I am back at Square Zero. What is material wealth worth anyway?
Case in point. The Master lives a mendicant life. He saves most of his modest income and lives frugally. He is planning for a future that may never come. How many years has he said that he would finally retire to the Hermitage? Now, he's close to 50 years old, he's single and he lives an obscure life in a small apartment in Convalescent City. People work to buy "things." "Things" determine status. The small minority of us who find no value in "things" are working for nothing. We are killing time with no other purpose than to kill time. Remember that Clint Black song, "Killing Time is Killing Me"? Even if I took up surfing, kayaking, or snowboarding, I won't find a solution to what I perceive to be the futility of life. Therefore, I believe that there are really only two purposeful functions in life. Searching out spirituality and establishing a family (with or without children). There is no other meaning or purpose in life. Each is accomplished in a non-materialistic fashion (that is, until we decided to change the rules to include money). The crux of spirituality and family is the bonding of souls through a spiritual connection of life forces. Our souls bond whether it be between a guy and babe, or between humans and the Creator. Without this essential bonding, our lives remain empty. Even friendships cannot substitute. We'll foolishly search for thrills or toys to fill the void but relief will only be temporary. My search to find my own purpose will continue. Tomorrow I'll revisit the concept of freedom.
Sunday October 17
I reluctantly drove to K-Mart to buy auto supplies in order to perform some much needed maintenance on my six-four. For example, I haven't changed the spark plugs in about five years. The oil change has been postponed for a year. Yet my beloved six-four soldiers on. I had some harrowing experiences today with both the locals and the idiocy of supply and demand in Hawai'i. I was in a bad mood after that. I took the long way home just for the hell of it. As I drove through Waikiki, a red Z3 rapidly approached me in an adjacent lane. Of course, the driver was a mainlander. What local could afford this car? He was talking on his cell phone. Babes were turning their heads as he drove by. The Z3 is a pretentious car. The sight of that idiot driving that pretentious car made me sick. Why should I buy such a stupid car?
That brings me to the issue of freedom. I have been seeking freedom from all of this crap but I cannot attain it. Why? I live right in the middle of this debauchery. I have no idea what freedom means. From what I can tell, it's going to be a monastic life. What else can we truly call "freedom"? Of course, I wouldn't mind being a love slave to Jenna Jameson. Just kidding! For the time being, I'm only enslaved to my six-four. My six-four has been a benevolent master. I changed the plugs today. Next week, I'll change the oil. I will eventually have to replace the radiator and the soft top as well. As Neal pointed out, that's a lot cheaper than buying a new Z3.
I thought about buying a digital camera. Can you believe it? My intentions were to set up an on-going Web photo collage that changes daily. What an idiot! Exactly who would care to see stupid pictures of the ol' lavahead's daily life? It's bad enough just having to read about it. Sheesh! The real of meaning of life is out there somewhere. I have to find out what that is. I have to sever as many of the enslaving ties that I have. If I don't find freedom, I'll be certain to find insanity. The quest is on. The clock is ticking.
Monday October 18
I hiked up Koko Crater again yesterday. Although I've been doing more productive things lately, I still had to get out of the house. I had not been doing much of anything for months. Well, I take that back. I've been consuming a lot of fire water as a hobby. My constant questioning of my paltry existence and validity is beginning to take its toll on my psyche. I can only wonder if the whole situation has to do with babes. What else could it be? It's no fun being a loser or a monk.
What I really need to do is sell everything and buy a really nice notebook computer. My whole life revolves around the computer anyway. I can't believe how much time I spend doing absolutely nothing. Today, I investigated WindowBlinds, an add-on to change the look of the crappy Windows user interface. It's a good time killer and ranks up there with composing Web journals and pulling the pud. I'm getting cranky. I had better call it a day.
Tuesday October 19
My Windows interface now looks like the Mac. Isn't that great? What other fun things can I come up with? I talked with one of the sages today. About the matter of the handmaiden's lies, he said, "That's to remind you of her power. Frankly, I don't think she's even aware that she's doing it." The former, I'm certain of. The latter, I'm not so sure. Most responses were cleverly orchestrated to support other aspects of the lies like the feeble one about the voicemail. The most interesting part of the dialog was left out of the [UJ] archives. Still contending that she was not involved in any way with either of her potential suitors, the scenario went as follows:
"He knows better than to ask me to marry him," she said of the balding pilot.
"What about your boy?" I asked, obviously referring to Mercedes Boy.
"The quickest way to end the relationship is to put a ring on my finger," she retorted.
"I thought you weren't in a relationship."
As you can see, the sages are once again correct. I am being reminded of the "power." However, the "power" no longer works. It is now I who has the "power" as per Caine in Shock to the System.
A massive rain storm came in this morning. It looks as though I will have to put the top back on my six-four. That was only the beginning of a gloomy day. A few of my students are getting on my nerves. These little punks have the audacity to question my ability to facilitate classes. Brain donations abound. These losers are only trying to attain an Associates Degree yet they somehow believe they are Rhodes scholars. I will be increasing the workload for the classes. I have no time to have my integrity questioned by self-serving punks. Understandably, you can see why I want to check out of society. There is little "quality" (as Persig would call it) available. I long for the day that I can move to some remote location and never see another living soul if I can help it.
Wednesday October 20
I received my first anonymous death threat today at the business college. I'm just waiting to see who is going to make good on this threat. In fact, I welcome it. Whoever is going to do the dirty deed had better do a good job. Otherwise, there will be a funeral but it won't be mine. Frankly, I am getting sick of these punks by the day. These stupid "locals" here in Hawai'i are destined to reduce their lot to the welfare line. I wish them the best. I don't even consider myself a "local" anymore. I renewed my Cali driver's license. That should speak for itself. A dock worker's strike threatens to increase the cost of living significantly. Prices will go sky high. It's just more stupidity that's going to end up hurting the people of Hawai'i. Mostly, the dumbass poor "locals" are going to suffer.
As I continue to regain some semblance of a life, I have also found myself less inclined to be as gregarious as I was before. I don't bother to say hello to most people as I did. As I observe them in the distance, I can tell that they want to ignore me anyway. None of them are my friends. I have no friends here. I just know leeches. Everyone wants something. I'm not being cynical. Maybe it's more true of Hawai'i because everything is so expensive and most people are so poor. People are just willing to compromise themselves for just a small piece of the pie. It's sickening.
As for me, I've decided that I'm working only for the paycheck. I'm a wage slave. I have washed my hands of any of the caring and benevolence I once had. There are only a small handful of students who get the message. The rest are just too stupid. In the end, they'll weed themselves out anyway. I am wasting my valuable resources in trying to help these pathetic losers. Let 'em rot, I say. I'll be waiting for them to panhandle me for money on Fort Street Mall in the near future just like their brethren.
Thursday October 21
I am trying out a free utility called WinRamTurbo. It's supposed to recover unused memory. I'm primarily concerned with the so-called "memory leaks" that occur in applications that are slow in returning resources to the system. Of course, most of these applications are Net-related like Web browsers. The memory leaks are what eventually cause the applications to crash. So far, it seems to work. I am just trying to justify ever purchasing another Windows computer in the future. I have been ready to convert to Linux or the Mac for a long time, as you well know.
Well, once again, the babes' Web sites are providing more interesting information. On the subject of money and love (from Underwire), Rhona Raskin wrote:
If he is a fiscal conservative and she is Ms. Go-for-It, there are going to be several interesting and animated conversations on the necessity of a new car or a vacation. It’s “I want a Porsche before I get croak” vs. “It’s just wheels — we drive the Fiesta till the bottom rusts through.” And “I know this cozy little dorm where you can stay in New York for $12 a night — and you can hardly notice the smell from the meatpacking plant” vs. “I hear the Plaza is a treat this time of year.”
It is best to iron out these diverse viewpoints before committing to shared tuna casseroles, bath towels and mailbox, but there often seems to be a reluctance to divulge one’s true set-in-concrete financial beliefs, likely out of fear of looking silly/greedy/eccentric/cheap.
Hey, sound familiar? On Love (with capital "L") as we know it (from WomenCentral), Vivian Gornick wrote:
Within two generations the world changed drastically. Suddenly, divorce and psychotherapy and sexual liberation were in abundance; as well as drugs, feminism and civil rights. With all this turbulent social change came the freedom to experience Love — again and again, and yet again — and with the freedom came a startling development. People saw that Love did not make them better or different. Under its influence, men and women did not give up their fears or their angers; nor did they find themselves wiser, more tender or compassionate than they had been before. Within themselves they remained essentially unchanged.
Of course, there are no such topics on ESPNet - the one and only guys' site. The fact that this kind of material only lends itself to babe-oriented publications should tell babes something. Guys are not going to wade through the diet and makeup articles just to find pertinent information. Of course, these days I'm a monk. It's all neither here nor there.
Friday October 22
The other day, one of my students, Varcus, came staggering into class. I thought he was going to pass out. "Did you see that new English instructor? Ho!" I brought the matter up in class this morning. So, a group of us (including Varcus) marched out in the hall in search of this English instructor. Apparently she is a real babe. "I thought she was a student," he confessed. "Say, maybe you should ask her out," he added as an afterthought. One of my former students, Cory, also suggested the same thing about a month ago. He is in one of her classes. Today, he mentioned that I should find a date this weekend (so I can double-date with him and his new babe). With the English instructor maybe? Sometimes my students really make my day. It's just a select few losers who bug the hell out of me.
I have officially taken myself off of the Wort. Well, I actually ran out about a week ago. That might explain my feelings of despair and loneliness which seem to intrusively invade my thoughts randomly throughout the day. I found yet another interesting article on-line (from Women.com) titled "Single? You're not Alone." Mary Peacock comments on the single life of babes:
And how do single "eligible" women feel? According to all the interviews and studies, the answer is: ambivalent. They love independence, but miss companionship and warmth. Many aren't really sure why they're unmarried, and will alternate between blaming their own neuroses and citing a lack of appealing, adult-acting men. Some are, in fact, panic-stricken. Others simply find marriage a bad bargain. (The more educated and prosperous a woman, the less likely she is to marry or remarry.) Most are taking life as it comes.
I hate to break the news to Ms. Peacock but single guys feel the same way. The longer that we perpetuate the myth that there are emotional differences between guys and babes, the longer it's going to take for us to get along. Frankly, I'm getting tired of being alone myself. I have no idea why I'm working or what the purpose of my earnings is except to pay off useless debt. I'm "taking life as it comes." Hermit has postponed his trip to Europe until Spring. He is still determined to go for the explicit purpose of wooing his Enchantress. Does he have a choice? Maybe not. It is a call that beckons him. If given the opportunity to break out of the mundane existence we live, some will go for it.
Each day on the early morning express bus, I've noticed that one of the commuters has taken a liking to a babe who also rides the same bus to town. She is a student at the university of which I am faculty. Baby is a real babe. She appears to be a foreign student, probably from somewhere in Europe. Each day, homeboy has become more bold in his advances. He usually saves a seat for her next to him. This morning, he walked baby to the university. I can see why he is driven to pursue her. She is a siren of incredible beauty. As I observed this mating dance, I wondered how I could ever play this game. What babe would be impressed by my advances? In my own self-discovery, I have realized that babes are not attracted to the ol' lavahead. I have some kind of negative aura. Perhaps it's because I deal with people in the same fashion regardless of gender. In other words, I do not flirt nor do I engage in flirtatious behavior. I refuse to flirt. I make little eye contact with babes and purposely wear my shades indoors and out. When I see myself in the mirror, I can just imagine how sick a babe would become if I even attempted to flirt with her. It made me sick just imagining it! Therefore, I make this promise to you in this public forum - I will remain a monk for the rest of my life. It hurts to know that one is just so detestable. The loser's life, however, is not new to me. Well, hey! Someone has to do it! I had more to discuss, but I am now in a provoked state.
Saturday October 23
It is as if I have had a curse placed upon me. Everything has gone absolutely wrong today. I ended up on some elusive wild goose chase for no apparent reason. I drove around like a moron, wasting both time and money. To try to salvage the day, I searched for the elusive budget-priced digital camera. Who was I kidding? I ended up back at home feeling dumb and dumber. I then decided to change the oil in my six-four. The last oil change was a year ago.
Even the simple task of changing the oil turned into a major fiasco. Oil spewed everywhere. I immediately reached for the fire water to sedate myself. What alternative did I have? I have not had a day like this in a long time. The sinister kahuna paid me a visit today and left its calling card. Why today? Most likely because I am close to the edge again.
Due to unforeseen circumstances, I will be repeating the debacle of last month insofar as my loans are concerned. I have about three weeks before my financial demise. In addition, I am supposed to be studying for my comprehensive exam. Yes, I want to finish my remaining incomplete Master's degree. Coincidentally, the exam is scheduled to be proctored one day before my financial demise. The study guide was supposed to be here over two weeks ago. It arrived yesterday. It really seems as though I am being tested. Why now? The stupid WindowBlinds application kept preventing Windows from shutting down so I uninstalled it. I'm glad that it was shareware. I was going to register it next week.
I have yet to hear from Burger King, Taco Bell, or Jack in the Box concerning a job. I am hard-core unemployable. Woe is me! I have also finally figured out what the sages meant by the prediction that the handmaiden would continue to remind me of her power. The intention of the last encounter becomes obvious. First, there was some need for fact-finding to see if I was indeed suffering and paying for my sins. Second, a variety of lies were told to bamboozle me and also to present the impression that the handmaiden was enjoying a fantastic new life. The desired effect, of course, is that I would feel like a total loser. That mission was accomplished seamlessly until I realized the ploy. If the handmaiden truly had a fantastic new life, there would be no need for lies. It remains a deadly game of cat-and-mouse. My current fragile mental state does not lend itself to this kind of nonsense.
Oh, I dream of the day that I will never have to put up with any of this crap anymore. I just want a simple and quiet life. I have come to realize that there will be no one for me to share my life with. I can accept that. I have observed that there are no babes whom I could be compatible with. Even in my casual dealings with babes, I find that I have no basis to ever establish a relationship or friendship with any of them. There are also few guys whom I would care to have friendships with. I have no idea what has happened to us as human beings but we have lost some essential component of human coexistence. I can't place my finger on it but I feel its void. I don't think we'll ever get it back because there are so many distractions that prevent us from ever addressing this issue.
Sunday October 24
Big headache. I have been on the verge of senseless violence all day. Perhaps its due to my increased fire water consumption. I did some yardboy chores but I spent most of my day in a comatose stupor. The real problem is that I can't stop thinking about babes (like Madelyn Knight, my new favorite babe at right). I even installed a cheesy version of Visual Basic on my computer but that did little to distract me. My return to the monk life has been a formidable task.
What is it about babes that just drive guys nuts? I found a past issue of Psychology Today that discussed new research into the area of flirting. As I read it, I began to realize that I was meant to be an eunuch. One point I should mention is that eye contact is one of the initial stages of flirting and mating. As I have discovered, the shades circumvent this problem rather efficiently. I have noted that babes have always been the ones to comment to me about my shades and that they cannot see my eyes. Little wonder that no one talks to me. I look like a psycho. As my head is ready to explode, I should just check out my favorite hurdy-gurdy Web sites and call it a day.
Monday October 25
I was in a comatose stupor for most of the day. I know the reason why. The damned fire water. I ended up stepping on my favorite pair of nerd glasses. Never mind that those pair of glasses were ten years old and completely scratched up. To top off my day, I saw Elena, the exotic dancer, at the gym.
Time for some viewer mail. Dog (firstname.lastname@example.org) wrote about a few of his own experience in the nebulous world of babes. He also said:
i hope you get that digital camera. adding daily pics to the site would be really cool. i'm looking forward to that. it would be cool to know what all these places you go to actually look like. and that promise of remaining a monk forever. yeah right. you know as well as i that if you had a girl that you were POSITIVE wanted you, you'd go for it.
I didn't know that Dog still read the journal. It has been a long time since we heard from him. Is Dog right? Would I sell out if a babe came on to me? Would I throw my monk robes right out the door? Well, I did it before so I could do it again. Lord have mercy!
Tuesday October 26
I will be trying to stay off of the fire water during the week. I have been extremely busy because of all the stupid nonsense. Curriculum changes. PowerPoint lectures. Scraping up any material for my upcoming comprehensive exam. I always manage to go to the gym no matter what. There is an incredible gym babe there. She has been going for a while but I didn't see her during the Summer. She started back up in September. I only remember her because she was ahead of me one day at the front desk. I noticed that she had a Cali driver's license. She was with two other babes and they spoke a different language. Some Scandinavian dialect. She was also wearing a short jeans dress. What a babe! She is going to the gym somewhat regularly now and works out alone. I didn't have my nerd glasses on when she came in today but I knew it was her. She was at the water fountain filling up her water bottle when I went for a drink. Oh man. I've never seen her with her hair down before. Long silky, dark hair. Ironically, she looks very similar to Madelyn Knight (see Sunday). I can't even think about it anymore or I'm going to lose it. I think she knows that I notice her because it really takes all my energy to keep the monk front. Babes like her are the stuff of legends.
Also heard from Duke (email@example.com) today. He wrote some interesting points:
Your repetitive lamentations of your loserness. It's good for "business" (the LoserNet business), but it's not true. I was struck, reading the same thing day after day, about how wrong you are about your slim prospects and how undateable you are and how broke you are. Listen, I've read the *whole* ugly mess. I've been a dues-paying LoserNet member for more than two years. Where you are now is *perfect*. Because where you used to be - when you used to make the same lamentations (and, unfortunately were right about them) - is where you still think you are. You're not. You actually have goals now. More, you actually have some hope to achieve your goals.
To tell you the truth, I'm amazed at the progress you've made. And I'm about to advance a blasphemous notion here ...
*I* believe you have the Handmaiden to thank for it. Yes, that's right. A bombshell, but hear me out. I've experienced something akin to this myself.
Prior to the Handmaiden, you really were nowhere. You know it. No job, no money, no chicks, no prospects, huge debt, no personality, no drive . . . need I go on? It's all in the journal. Anyway, (and something like this happened to me) the Handmaiden came into your life and reawakened in you what had been dead for a long time. Suddenly you were *feeling* again (albeit many unpleasant feelings, but you have to take the bad with the good). It was a time of reckoning in general. You had been living a dulled existence and now there was a (sometimes unwelcome) sharpness to life. That lingered after the Handmaiden left your life. Nevermind all the BS. This is the effect the experience had on you. Where once you were outside even the outsiders looking in on the male/female dynamic (or for that matter, even greater, of life itself), you're now right there on the regular outer ring (with the rest of us, until we get someone and get inside). You are now actively participating in life. That is a *huge* leap from what I read of you in the old journals! Also, you were in denial of your "biological urges" but now you acknowledge them readily.
In summary, T, you are now, finally basically just like a normal person. Not a loser. You will always be a *Loser* because of the website, but what I'm reading now is not the product of an actual loser. You just want a chick, more money, complete independence, and revenge. Name me one person who doesn't?
Wednesday October 27
Two days without fire water and I felt as though a truck ran me over. I have little desire to do anything. However, one of the babes in my class asked if I would be willing to be a faculty chaperone at the upcoming Rock the World party (university event). Since I have no life, I tentatively agreed. That's great. I get to watch a bunch of drunk students going berserk at the World Café. Of course, it is the big party of the year.
I also saw the handmaiden walking across the street in the direction of Chez Pasta, that haole dump/bar where she probably met all of those rich clowns. Anyway, she didn't look too good. It's fairly obvious that she hasn't been going to the gym regularly. Some people may get on me about my fixation with physical beauty. That may be true but that is what initially attracts people to each other. I'm glad that it's not my problem anymore because I could not tolerate that amount of "thickness," if you know what I mean. I'm no stud and I'm a boring guy. However, I try to stay in some kind of shape and the reason has nothing to do with babes. Do you see any babes coming on to me now?
Thursday October 28
The highlight of my day was running into a few of the other part time professors at the faculty computing room. We are the "regulars" there. I mentioned that I volunteered to chaperone the Rock the World party. At least one of the other guys may do the same. So, I may actually end up going.
I feel as though I'm losing my mind. I think that it has to do with babes. I've been talking about babes too much and it's now coming back to haunt me. I'm getting too old for this crap. That's why I signed up with the new Vavo Web site. I may set up yet another mirror site there since it is designed primarily for the geriatric crowd. Well, hey! That's my age group! You know, all I really need is my Keystone beer. Sheesh! I happened to see one of my other favorite babes at the gym. She was walking up the stairs as I was coming down. What a gorgeous babe! I knew she was a babe but when I saw her up close ... it's a good thing I had my shades on. I should just be thankful that I'm not the fortunate guy to be in her company. What with the wild thing and all. Who needs it? I'm a damned monk.
Friday October 29
For a while, I thought that I had gotten out of being a chaperone for the Rock the World party. However, some babe personally delivered my ticket to me in my class this afternoon. So, I ended up going. I brought Cory, one of my former students, along with me as a guest. The World Café was not even close to being as large as everyone said it would be. However, it wasn't too bad as clubs go. My shift was relatively uneventful. I noticed that there was only one other faculty member there. I ran into a few of my students but I knew that most of them were not coming in until after 11pm. I planned to gone by then.
One of my babe students arrived in an angel's costume. Somewhat appropriate for her. Cory almost lost it. He wanted me to set him up. So, after a few more rounds through the joint, I spotted baby and her friend standing near the entrance. I thought that Cory was right next to me as I approached them. After all, he kept pressuring me to set him up. I felt like a schoolboy. I was babbling about some nonsense only to discover that Cory was still standing by the bar. Sheesh! Now, it looked as though I was up to no good. All in all, it was an interesting time. Too bad I didn't have a digital camera to record the event.
I have read a few more on-line Web diaries (in My Dear Diary site) written by babes. I think that I need to quote from two of them. Then, I'll go into a diatribe about this tomorrow. In My On-Line Disaster, Lonely Girl wrote:
Ahhh yes, so Michael and I were having a little problem. Or I guess it was MY problem, not his. I was upset by this, here's someone who supposedly loves me, yet they won't take the time to listen to anything that has to do with me. Don't get me wrong, this is a GREAT guy! He's sweet, kind, generous, funny, affectionate, everything I've ever wanted in a guy. But he just didn't, well, he just didn't seem to give a damn about me.
In Being Single Again, JenDa wrote:
B is wonderful, he wanted to give me the world, he adored me, he loved me, he provided for me. He is extremely attractive (a Tom Cruise type - dark hair, deep blue eyes, great teeth), hard and motivated worker with ambition, charming, witty, flirty. Why the hell would anybody leave a man like that? He is all of those things and more but he wasn't able to give me what I really needed.
I read these lines over and over again just so that I could make sure I was not missing something. Fortunately, JenDa cleared everything up when she admitted:
I seized the day. I grew some balls and got myself out of a situation that I didn't like. My marriage was a familiar and comfortable situation but I didn't feel alive. Cliche, I know. Don't "they" always tell you that it is better to live than to exist? With B, I was existing. Now, I am living and I am living for only myself. I am going to take advantage of every Gen-X, selfish, me, me, me stereotype that our generation has been labeled as.
It's almost remarkable about how all of these journals begin to sound so much alike. Same premise. Same result. I can now fully understand what happened to me. Once again, I reiterate that I will remain a monk. This is the prevailing attitude of babes and I cannot be another victim of this philosophy again.
Saturday October 30
I went to the dentist today. I had a choice of a root canal or to just fill my tooth of which a significant portion was missing. I chose the latter since that was all I could afford. I really don't want a root canal anyway. So, that was a quick $100 out of pocket. I was left no option but to buy the Keystone beer "suitcase." I managed to get somewhat hammered before departing for Barnes & Noble.
I'm not sure about anything anymore. After reading more of the on-line diaries, I was left a disillusioned fool. At one point, I thought that the handmaiden was using "JenDa" as a pseudonym. My conclusion about the whole situation? Everything is out of control. And, this only gives me further substantiation to remain a monk. I can now understand the basis of what Paul (in Seattle) called "serial monogamy." I also understand its basis and perpetuation. The alleged issue is living versus existing. Isn't that interesting? The mass marketers have finally succeeded in embedding the most significant insecurity in our lives. Living versus existing. It's a philosophical question that lends itself to endless debate. Yet, to the simple mind, it invokes an almost instantaneous self-destruct mechanism. Why do I say that? Because, if duped, most of us will have to compromise every aspect of our lives to satisfy the quest to find the answer. There is no answer. It's metaphysical in nature. I myself have bought into this notion on several occasions. It's so easy to be sucked in. I mean, who wants to just exist? Yet, isn't that what we do anyway? We live. We exist. We coexist. There is no difference. Only the marketers have been diligently working to create the dichotomy. It is our own insecurities that make them wealthier. In the end, we find that there is no difference between living and existing. Only when survival comes into play do we see that difference.
There is no way to fight it. The system is entrenched in money and power with greed serving to undermine any egalitarian goal. The underlying theme is the need for over-consumption based upon some kind of entitlement due to our mortality. Whatever the case, the forces-that-be are insatiable. The pull is uncontrollable and mendicance will certainly not serve to impede its overpowering nature. Nothing makes sense anymore. It's not supposed to make sense. If it did, we would not fall prey to these forces so easily. Those of us who try to remain steadfast in some kind of commitment to an ethical standard (of which I seem to be at a loss to identify) are the ones who will suffer from various forms of psychopathology. We question what everyone has already wholeheartedly embraced. We will become a minority of outcasts. The pressure is there to conform. Conformity means submission into a world of ignorance. There won't be any chance to turn back, not without the ramifications of stigmatization and ridicule. This is a lonely path and it will only get lonelier.
To be continued ... Go to R.12
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