There's a masturbatory quality to creating and maintaining a journal site.
After all- you get to choose what you want to say, do and present on the site and you assume that someone will be looking at it, a digital self-stroking, if you will.

But somehow, here, in 1997- this is what we want- we want to know the dirty little secrets of our neighbors, we want the scuttle, the butt and everything in-between.

So I suppose, if that's why you are here and that's why I do this, you deserve it all.
Here's a picture of me this afternoon, two hours after waking- the night before up until 6 am, unable to sleep after drinking a lot of cheap beer, playing nickel slots and winning two hundred dollars on a royal flush- I got work done today, but not enough- never enough...

A friend from CU told me a few weeks ago that he was on a Japanese reflector and they were discussing these very pages. I was rather amazed. He said he had a theory why they found this site interesting, but I may not like the theory. I have yet to ask him what his theory is; not out of not hearing something flattering, but rather an arrogant display of "fuck em if they like it, fuck 'em if they dont."
I do this for myself, my outlet to an end towards of some sort of reconciliation with myself. I suppose I feel that if I am honest, as I always am, and that honesty of feeling, thought and meat is out for public consumption, then I am honest with the world, regardless of how dishonest the world at large is with me.

Quick Update:

• My ex-wife is pregnant again
• My ex's boyfriend moved out on her
• Business is good, but I have a client that owes me a lot of money
• The above has put me and my girls future in peril
• I'm dating a wonderful woman
• I still don't like my life

None of the above should surprise anyone, except for the dating part.
I'm grossly afraid of becoming attached, she is wonderful to me- brought me cigarettes and leftover pizza and beer from a party last week- wanting me to at least have some essentials handy. I'm not used to this.
It does throw me off.
I'm also grossly afraid that she likes me too much, or will- Business-wise I am excellent at what I do, but my personal life has been and continues to be a fucking mess; I feel I have little to offer anyone but complications, other than I am a nice person and not a pig and I am genuine, nothing hidden.

Those qualities, I realize from my many female friends, are wonderful qualities when it comes to men- I have no qualms stating them either, I am happy and proud at least to who I am and how I conduct myself, but-
My own weirdnesses and damage from nearly 32 years of life prevent me from believing that I am anything close to a "catch" and I am afraid, continuously, that I will fuck something up, just because.

I've never known much other than turmoil in my life, perhaps unconsciously or consciously I have sought or found my lovers based on this- there is a comfort I suppose in the relishing grudgingly the fucked-up-ness of one's life, if this is what one is used to.

I had this conversation recently with one of my newest and closest friends- One often runs to what they know and runs from it, but only with great difficulty.

I make no excuses for myself- what I cant control happens to me, what I can I allow.

Here is some meat-
Words, Music and Motion move me to places I cannot explain, places I want to go and breathe in, deeply, but wind up coughing because of my own inability (or perhaps desire to) excel and thrive. Marvin Gaye's "What's Going On" moves me tears as the blues I am listening to right now on my $9.95 clock radio stand the hairs on my arms upright; as a tender, well-timed and placed kiss will make me lose my breath. We are lost tribes, I am lost, I am here, I am gone. I dont exist other than more than what affects me; my meat has shrunk into myself, the substance stands strong but is exponentially less than what I was, I am affected I know longer feel to effect- something has passed at some point, something and when I do not know other than I am here, I still breathe and shit; but despite the movement and love I have; I could and do often wish I was dead. And felt no more.

Take what you will from me, whatever its value, even if its a negative to inspire a positive.

I despise my existence, I want something more, I seek something less-
I love my children, my girls, my babies, my legacies.
If not for them- you may not have known me.

It's for you to decide whether thats good, bad or if you are like me, indifferent.