Now this goes beyond this little blog right here. What I'm saying is that I have a diary, a literal diary, a black leather diary that I religiously carry around with me almost everywhere. I suppose that, having a penis, I should call it a journal but what who I kidding, huh? It's a diary and it goes with me everywhere.
What differentiates between this blog and my diary, you ask? Well, only I read my diary. And my wife. And Marisa sneaks a peak once in a blue moon but other than that no one ever sees this puppy. So its a lot more depressing, a lot more angry, a lot more racist, and whenever I'm having a rough time (which recently has been all the time) it always makes me feel better to open that sucker up and start writing. And I'm always writing, too. I have been living in Sacramento for well over four years and in that time I have written well over four books. I am currently 1/3rd through book five.
Now, I don't want to post anything from my diary on to here. That would be breaking the invisible fourth wall between diary and blog, but I thought that it would be extremely intriguing to post the last sentances of the entries of my diary from May 28th, 2006 up until yesterday. I think this is a very interesting experiment. These small sentances tell you everything and nothing all at once. Some of them are head scratchingly confusing and some of them are verrrrrry intriguing.
Here you go ...
-In other words I am royally fucked.
-I am not the Jesus of kids.
-Sometimes I just want to scream.
-That just begats murderous thoughts.
-I'm pretty certain I'm not jealous.
-It's alternating between awesome and living hell.
-I trust her not to hurt me again.
-I am no ones bitch and I hope she knows that.
-It'shopefully all cool mellow summertime vibes all day long.
-They smell like you'd expect Snow White's feet to smell.
-She has no idea how frightened and defensive I am.
-Cake is speaking to me in ways it never has before.
-This is all going to get a whole lot worse.
-I feel vaguely bad for thinking she's hot.
-And believe me when I say that I've done a whole lot of shit today.
-This house looks like crap.
-If I don't do it then no one will.
-Goddamn that shouldn't turn me on.
-It's like my thighs are on fucking fire.
-Still I think it was pretty fucking hot.
-It's an obsession.
-It's pretty grim and angry around here.
-I feel so fucking down.
-I'm napping when I get home for sure.
-Thank god I didn't get that job.
-She knows I would kill myself.
-That would be so hot.
-I hurt a lot.
-I don't give a fuck.
-Now it's just something that I do quietly by myself.
-I'm running on empty.
-Let's try that out and see.
-I am so pathetic.
-I'm not hiding it, either.
-I have issues.
-I hate doing this.
-I really do love my life right now.
-WHO the FUCK is DIANE ARBUS!?!
-I'm pretty sure that would be innegal.
-What a great fucking week.
-The unappreciative cumbucket.
-I don't want to go back to being exhausted.
-Awesome fucking night.
-God that's hot.
-At least the fair is tomorrow.
-I'm pretty sure even SHE wouldn't rat me out.
-Very strange things.
-She knows I can't be as bold as she is.
-Not for anyone else.
-Good, fuck him!
-I'm having a really rough time today.
-Awww what the hell.
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Friday, August 25, 2006
Selections from My Own Personal Diary ...
I have a diary.