May 6th, 2001:

Courtney left her bag in my Truck. Gotta go meet her and Farris at the gas station on the corner to give it back.

Brad says: “I think kitty cat smokes. You put the cigarette to his lips and I’ll squeeze him.”

Going to Storm Party ’01 over at Farris‘s for some pornographic, accordian playin’, dunkin’ donut patron corrupting fun.

Dear Fox,

I asked you once when you interrupted “The Simpson’s”… now I am begging you. Please stop interrupting the “X-Files”.

Thanks,
Reverend Jim

Dear Fox,

I know there is a goddamn Tornado Warning. I know I’m not supposed to go outside. I know that the lightning and rain is coming down like mad. Now will you please stop fucking interrupting “The Simpsons”?

Thanks,
Reverend Jim

Going to Wal-Mart. Then going to take pictures of Brad’s new Subaru Impreza WRX.

Ack. Just paid my bills. Spent $2455.43.

Of course… my roommate owes me for some pieces of that…. but still… my portion comes to $1609.43. That is way too much money. I need to start cutting expenses.

I cried last night. I only point this out because it has been a while since I have, and I am fairly certain it will be a while before I do again. This has nothing to do with the belief held by some individuals that men who cry are wusses. I really don’t care how much of a man you think I am.

I have conditioned myself to expect the worse possible outcome in most situations. This is because, before I began that conditioning, I used to expect the best and was constantly being let down. Sure, a better initial outlook would be somewhere in between the best and the worse, but it seems that I am incapable of that. It is because of this conditioning that I rarely cry. This also gives me a somewhat stoic appearance to others, though that is not the case at all.

I don’t like being cynical, because with it comes being alone.

Sometimes, some things in my life seem constantly good enough that I can raise my level of expectation. It is not a conscious thing, mind you, but something that merely happens, and then sometime later I realize it happened, and yet can do nothing about it.

Last night, I thought I was going to lose one of those constant things. One of those things I have learned to trust, and accept and rely on. And I was scared. Very scared. And part of me said, “Daniel, don’t budge. You don’t need this thing”, and the other part of me knew the truth. I cried.

And when I left last night, I felt better. I felt as though I had not mistrusted. I felt as though I would not end up hurt in the long run. This morning, however, there is a bitter taste in my mouth that is worse than that of my morning coffee. I am considering forcing myself to close off in order to save me from the pain that will inevitably come.

No one really knows I am this cynical. I do a good job at hiding it.