careful with that axe, eugene.

actually beautiful acts of rage are often acts of sudden SANITY. i hate how i've internalized the judgement against who i am and how i, and others, see or communicate differently.

ugh. it's everywhere. you can't escape the self-hatred. it's like walls all around you. time to re-listen to the lessons of pink floyd.

i'd love to rent syd barret's little home and avoid people altogether.

james is dating and as smart as he is, he's clueless about women and i teach him things to avoid his irritation and indignation and jujitsu it into interest. fights are the best ways to get past the small talk and he hates the dragging out games that they do so he cuts 'em off and they get pissy. i say, "USE THAT!"

it's all a fucking game and sometimes people need you to play the role to bring them out of themselves. so then you take a deep breath and play the fucking game. get into it. it's a performance. just check yourself before going in.

i told him that. i said, set you mark where to stop because you see the signs, and reconsider if it gets surprisingly interesting. but most people need to go through the same first 7 pages of tedious small talk dialogue.

 but this is a chance to play, test, push. but people lose their mind in ebay auctions and do the same thing with lovers, and end up marrying people they knew would blow them off when they're busy because that's how it started, but they just had to WIN them over.

thing is, when you've gotta do that, you've gotta KEEP doing that. it's exhausting.