From February, 2004

from the original "love letters" blog:

my weekend is full of tense situations. every event i need to attend will be populated with my paramours, past and present, only no one knows who the others are. i will be standing in the middle of a swaying party, drinking too much, able to turn in a tight circle and know the width of every penis in the near vicinity. is that shameful? because i dont feel ashamed. just tired of peopleness, of conflicting emotions, slightly hostile, needing to break something. these are the days when i start fights for less than nothing, for the time it takes, for the sheer distraction. if i was anywhere near intelligent, i would hie myself off to an undisclosed location and keep my mouth under close surveillance. more likely, i will get more than slightly intoxicated, tell the world to fuck off, wax poetical about exploding to cover the sky, and walk home alone through the bad part of town, risking it, risking it, risking it.