Maybe, if I were to issue a hearty fuck you to this little censorship demon or whatever that lives inside my head and eats delicious words before I can get them written, maybe I'd write something like this.

Yesterday I spent a lot of time thinking about some overlaps between what are otherwise two very different thoughts.

My thought
If I can just keep from ruining everything, and keep being my wonderful self in the meantime, then eventually she'll come around. And hey, even if she doesn't come around, then at least we'll get to keep hanging out.

Her thought
If Dave can just keep from ruining everything, and keep being his wonderful self in the meantime, then eventually he'll get over it. And hey, even if he doesn't ever get over it, then at least we'll get to keep hanging out.

See the overlaps? See them?!? Aren't they cool? I mean, except for the part about me ruining everything. I don't know why it's assumed that any ruination will necessarily have to be my fault.

I could probably write a long entry about this. But I won't.

Okay, so now that it's been established that my value is less than $35.00, I wonder what I am worth.

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Not a single one of HatGirl's so-called friends showed up for her bachelorette party. I am so sad for her, and so angry at her so-called friends, that it's actually taking my mind off of my own problems. Imagine that.

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I really did have fun at the thingy yesterday. I don't believe that she thought I had fun, but I did.

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I guess I should have just stayed in Louisville last night. I bet AlliGirl and CoolHairGirl were working. But I had no way of knowing that Rich O's was going to be such a flop. Shit, I actually thought it might be good. Maybe that'll teach me to be an optimist. I really should know better by now.

Been trying to figure out what to write about this. My ability to think coherently is gone, but not my urge to write. This is a problem.

Sometimes I can just start typing and when I'm done it's halfway decent. Not usually, but sometimes. I'm trying that right now - just letting my fingers do whatever they want. Looks like words are stringing along, so maybe it's working.

Anyway.

I became invisible tonight. To three different people. Each among my favorite people on Earth, but to them, I am an afterthought. Compare me to anyone else - a random bar asshole, a bum from the street - anyone at all, and I'm going to fall short. And I'm going to be ignored.

Wait, ignored isn't the right word. That implies intent and effort, and most of the time I don't think I warrant either.

Sometimes I do think that I'm being purposefully reminded of my place in the hierarchy of things, when this happens. Sometimes I think it's done on purpose, but usually not. Usually I think it's subconscious and unintentional. I'm not sure which is worse. I mean, would you rather have someone tell that you're only useful as a last resort, or simply imply it through their actions?

It's not exactly fun, either way.

I was trying to think if anything happened today, besides the funfest that was work.

But then I remembered that I got to talk to HatGirl on the phone after work.

HatGirl!

Yay!

I feel bad because not many people are going to her bachelorette party. If I was a girl, I'd go. Because, duh, it's HatGirl!

I asked her if she'd reminded everyone, when she sent the invitations, that she's HatGirl, and she said that it was implied.

I'm thinking that it must not have been implied very well or more girls would be going to HatGirl's party.

I was going to go to Rich O's for some spaghetti after work. My spaghetti plans were detoured yesterday, and I was still craving it.

But noooooooo!

There was a stupid traffic jam on the highway leading toward Rich O's, so I just came straight home.

And there was a stupid traffic jam on the highway leading home, too. So that sucked.

Anyway, now I'm starving to death.

I wonder what cat food tastes like. That's all there is in this house.

A wise man once wrote, "Hope is a strange thing. It exists only to disappoint, for once it's fulfilled, it vanishes."

I'm not exactly sure what that (clearly drunk) wise man was getting at, but I have a theory.

The thing about hope, I think, is that there's only one way to completely destroy it. And that's to fulfill it. Anything else, anything less, and it's going to survive.

Disappointments will devastate, but a spark of hope will survive, and then grow. Setbacks will shatter, but a tiny glimmer of hope will survive, and then grow. Failure will, um, do something bad that starts with "f" but hope will still survive, and then grow.

Frustrate, perhaps?

Anyway, NakedGirl told me tonight that, "There's nothing wrong with a little hope."

I tend to agree with her. Good thing, too. Because, even after everything I've seen and heard and felt, I still have hope. And, more than that, I like having hope, misguided as it may be.

It's at least something.

I tried living with nothing, and it sucked. Big ones.

I cannot imagine going back to a life without hope. If such an existence could even be called life. But I suppose that I'd give it a shot, if I had to.

If all my hopes were fulfilled, and they all vanished, I guess I could try to live with that.

I thought, just for kicks and to see what happened, that I'd try to catch this damn thing up on what's happened in the last week or so.

Tuesday, September 16

A bunch of stuff I can't write about, and then I got my power back at 8:30, then more stuff I can't write about.

Wednesday, September 17

Stuff I can't write about, then I got to have lunch with HatGirl. Yay!

Then I got really really depressed. And then, while I was at Rich O's, some more stuff happened that I can't write about, but it put me in a better mood.

Then I got stuck doing some stuff for work, or maybe some other stuff might have happened. I couldn't have written about it though.

Thursday, September 18

I don't think anything happened all day, except that after work I got to do some stuff I can't write about, and it was a lot of fun.

Friday, September 19

I'd allowed myself to have hope. That was stupid. Friday was a very very sad day for me. Move along, please.

Saturday, September 20

I got to have lunch with HatGirl. Yay! But I already wrote about that, kinda. There was a picture.

Then Saturday night I sat around Rich O's and glared at my phone for hours, then I got to do something I can't write about, but it was really nice. Then when I got back home I did something stupid.

Sunday, September 21

A sad day. I even went on a rant, but I can't write about it.

Monday, September 22

Rich O's was out of every beer I've ever liked, but then I got to do something I can't write about. Found out some bad news that I can't write about.

Then, in an ironic twist, MisunderstoodGirl showed that she doesn't understand me at all.

Tuesday, September 23

A bunch of irrelevant stuff that I can't write about, then some bullshit that I can neither figure out nor write about.

The first time, I was in a crappy mood, and I did my writing elsewhere.

The second time, I was in a weird mood, and I wrote this:

The minutes take eternities to pass, but somehow the years rush by.

Two years have passed in the blink of a teary eye.

I never thought it would happen. I fought for so long, I convinced myself that I was winning. I faked a smile for so long, I convinced myself that I was happy. I fell for so long, I convinced myself that I was flying.

I never thought it would happen. I never thought it could happen.

But it did.

Splat!

My world still reverberates from the force of that impact.

I don't want to say any more.

I've already said too much, yet I could never never never say enough.

Those two words would lead to those three words would lead to a billion more words, and still it would not be enough.

And now it's the fourth time, that this date has come around. I finally feel like I've said everything there is to say. But it's still not enough.

This is the activity taking place outside my building this morning.

I have no idea what these people are doing. I just hope they get all that shit off the road before the afternoon rush hour.