Today was, as the entry title suggests, kinda boring.

I managed to impress myself by staying awake all day, despite having only three hours of sleep since Sunday at 7:00. I just got wrapped up in this work bullshit opportunity and, before I knew it, it was time to come home. So, yay for me!

Then I took a short nap, being very careful to keep it short, so that I could have a reasonable chance at getting to sleep at a reasonable hour tonight. We'll see how that plan works. I had really terrible dreams about Everyone On Earth turning Everyone Else On Earth against me.

Also tonight, I spent a couple of hours talking with StupidGirl. She hasn't made up her mind about coming here. I haven't made up my mind about whether I want her to come here. So, basically, nothing has changed.

It would, however, be nice to see her right now. I could certainly use the distraction. But I want her, or any girl, to be more than a distraction for me. It was completely unfair to MixedSignalGirl. It's been completely unfair to WeirdGirl, though she doesn't seem to mind as much as I do. I'm just trying to keep from repeating that same mistake yet again.

Not until I'm ready. And, if I'm never ready, then so be it.

Anyway, maybe by May I won't need the distraction any more. Or maybe by May I'll be dating someone local, and then StupidGirl sleeping over would be awkward at best.

Haha. Dating someone local. Having a real relationship with a real possibility for a future.

Hahaha. I kill me.

There's almost two inches of snow on the ground here now. Weird, but cool. It's a freakin' Winter wonderland all of a sudden.

Every now and then I have a dangerous kind of thought. I don't like it, not even a little bit, but the same theme keeps resurfacing.

My stupid heart tries to convince my brain that maybe I should just strap one on, so to speak.

Be a man!

That's always the underlying charge.

I think that it's a good thing that my brain isn't quite as stupid as my heart.

---

I can't believe that I have to go back to work tomorrow. Furthermore, I can't believe that I'm still awake right now. I forced myself out of bed, after about three hours of sleep, at 7:00 this morning. I'd thought that this would make me sufficiently tired tonight, so that I might get to sleep at a decent hour.

Ha!

It's been a rough last few days off of work. Tomorrow will bring a totally different kind of turmoil.

I hate change.

---

Oh yeah, before I forget. I wrote an entry late Sunday night. In that entry, I made a couple of cryptic references to a couple of girls. Neither of the girls referenced are people I saw over the weekend. I guess there was confusion. I hope I just cleared it up.

---

I guess that's it for now.

The more I hear, the more I think that I know who my real enemy is.

It's not my lovely self, as it was for a very long time. Nope, this time, it's apparently Everyone On Earth.

Because, as near as I can tell, Everyone On Earth has been sticking their noses, fingers, dicks, whatever appendages are available, into things which are none of their business. Meddling. Intervening. Impeding. Trespassing.

Everyone On Earth has had, I'm sure, my best interests at heart. Or at least their perceptions of what my best interests might be. But the thing that gets me is that Everyone On Earth has completely missed the mark about what those best interests really are. Everyone On Earth doesn't know me as well as they think they do. And Everyone On Earth doesn't know her at all, as near as I've been able to tell.

But for some reason, Everyone On Earth has suddenly started acting like some unholy offspring of Albert Einstein and Phil McGraw, thinking that they know everything and that they're qualified, nay, expected to dole out advice.

Wrong.

I want this to stop. I want it to stop immediately. I know that Everyone On Earth reads this blog, so I'm going to make this as clear as I possibly can.

Please. Stop. Fucking. Interfering. With. My. Personal. Life.

I fear that it's already too late. I'm afraid that the damage has already been done. If that's the case, then I hope that Everyone On Earth doesn't try to undo any of the damage that they've done. That would probably only make things worse. If worse is even possible. Which I doubt.

It won't be that bad, this recalibration I may yet have to do. At first, the thought of packing everything that makes me who I am - my thoughts and my feelings, my hopes and my desires - into a sort of a mental time machine, and sending it all back eight months? Well, it was a pretty scary thought.

So I read some of my old entries, from that time. To prepare myself, reintroduce myself with the person I used to be, before.

Wait, before isn't the right word. The right word is during.

During that time, that seemingly endless period that finally ended last May, I seemed to spend almost all of my time digging around inside myself, trying to find some hidden switch that would turn everything off. It was only at the very end that I figured out what should have been clear all along.

On that last night, the night before the night in which during would end, and after would start, I wrote this entry. At the end, I wrote:

I like this feeling of desire and longing. I don't want it to end. I want to want what I want. I don't necessarily want what I want, but I desperately want to want it. Decipher that last sentence, and I think you'll understand me pretty well.

I realized, back when during was about to end, that my life wasn't so bad after all. Because I, most definitely, wanted.

It wasn't that bad, during. It wasn't as good as after, but I could go back. It wouldn't kill me.

I think that my problem is that I think too much. Life would be so much more simple, if only I'd stop thinking.

I'd have a lot more fun, that's for sure.

To be an off the cuff, spur of the moment guy - it certainly has its appeal. Fewer regrets would be one thing cool about it. I mean, it's hard to regret those things to which I'd never given any real thought. Reflexive, instinctive behavior comes with its own built-in excuse.

Also, I wonder, who can handle honesty? I mean, really handle it. Not like that one girl, who claims that honesty is paramount even while she hides behind half-truths and shields herself with unwarranted extrapolations. And certainly not like that other girl who, in her short lifetime, has never faced truth in its most brutal form.

Anyway, I have a problem. I've had it for a while now. I'm in love with two different women. One of them knows without a doubt, and the other, I suspect, only fears what my feelings might be.

These are extreme cases, to be sure. I deal with them the same way that I deal with everything else - I muddle through as best as I can. Usually, this means that I bottle things up and only allow the minimum amount of pressure to escape. Just enough, because exploding, I think, would be gross. And messy.

But that's not what I wanted to write about tonight.

What I wanted: to write about was lips.

I'm not what you'd call a breast-man. Or an ass-man. Or a leg-man.

I've always been drawn to eyes. Windows to the soul and all that.

But sometimes, something else captures my attention. Sometimes, like right now, it's lips that I can't stop thinking about. Certain lips.

The three pseudo-words that I keep coming up with are these:

Fan, Tas, and Tic.

It's weird, I think, to be so fixated on an activity that could fit perfectly well into a PG-13 movie. But that's the way it is, for me, right now. My fantasies stop, abruptly, before they can earn that coveted R-rating. I don't know why they stop. It makes very little sense to me, so I can't even begin to explain it to anyone else. It is, quote simply, what it is. Deal with it, or don't deal with it. I live with those two choices all the time. I can't be the only one capable of it.

I wonder, who can handle honesty?

Because, here it is.

Or, to be more precise, there it was.

I suppose I feel better now. I think that the only real casualty was my myspace account. It can't be retrieved, and I'm pretty sure that I don't care. It was pretty much irrelevant anyway. I did managed to save the facebook stuff, though time will soon tell if that was a wasted effort or not.

I don't think I'm going to write much about what happened. Something certainly did and, to deal with it, I needed to reset some things inside my head. Dial back some knobs, stuff like that. I've tried to find out what caused it, and I did manage to learn a couple of things. Bullshit things. I tried to do some damage control on that. I don't know if it worked or not, but at least I tried.

I just read a blog that I haven't read in months.

Why did I do this?

Because I'm stupid, that's why.

Anyway, hidden among the blather and the drivel and all the other bloggish stuff that one comes to expect - especially if you read the crap that I write - I found this one particular sentence.

I'm not going to quote the sentence. It's nobody's business. But I will respond to the sentence, in a way.

I used to, for a short time, provide that shoulder for you to lean on. I never thought that you took enough advantage of it, but I always figured that you had your reasons. Now, my shoulder is unencumbered and cold, and I miss the purpose that your head used to provide.

The truth doesn't matter if nobody believes it. It's like that tree falling with nobody around thing. It's irrelevant.

---

I've been having a problem lately with dreams.

I've had so many dreams, and of such a vivid variety, that I've found myself confused. I can't always differentiate those things that really happened from those things that only happened in dreams.

If I had seen LaptopGirl tonight, I would have told her how happy I was that she wasn't a little toy red octopus anymore. Because I had a dream this afternoon, and in that dream she'd turned into a little toy red octopus. And I had to carry her around to keep these two asshole kids from throwing her into walls to watch her "walk" down.

If I had seen her, I doubt that I'd have been able to contain my relief. I'd have told her how relieved I was.

Also.

My dream self is so eloquent in his conversations and his explanations. I often wake up overflowing with confidence.

Because I know that I'll be able to say the things that need to be said, should the opportunity or need ever arise.

I mean, if my dream self can say such beautiful things, speaking out of his ass, then my awake self should do even better.

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Tonight, several times every minute, I imagined something. This one tiny particular thing. Each and every time, several times a minute, I became awash with joy. Just because of that little thing I was imagining.

It was really cool.