2003-10-31 - 4:31 a.m.
god i fucking hate looking at porn.. it's a fucking disease.. i just fucking feel sick after looking at it and beating off.. i mean on one hand, yeah it's hot to see bitches getting slammed and seeing money shots.. but right after you cum and get your cumvision(tm), your eyes are opened..and you see everything clearly..and you fucking look at your disgusting self and say, "self... you're fucking disgusting." i fucking hate that sick feeling. that fucking feeling of disgust and tar..
dirt that you can't just wash off in the shower..
i almost did it.
i almost fucking went down there and fucked that disgusting chick. but by some miracle i decided i would "just" beat off (like a serial killer "just" shoots 8 people instead of an ungodly 10).. i was thinking about punishment.. because punishment, although people like to trivialize, medieval-ize, chastise, mock, impotent-ize barbarize, archaic-ize and circumsize the gravity, scope, application, implication, position, and disposition of it, it always comes, regardless of what you attempt to do to circumvent it... it's the same type of futility you would accuse someone of indulging if he jumped off a cliff and attempted to bargain with gravity on the way down.
i don't want the punishment of not seeing Katie.
i met katie at a bookstore.
i was sitting at a table.. and she was looking at books on her break from work.. and i saw her..and she saw me..and she gave me one of those hot chick disgusted looks or one of those hot chick it's-a-boy-staring.-swell.-looks.. i'm not sure if she was HOT hot..or just imagination hot or good-from-far hot.. but she seemed kinda hot, so i decided i would make an effort to talk to her before she left..
i formed a line in my head.
"..you didn't give me a chance to say 'hello' before you left."
of course, i'd have to wait until she decided to leave before i could spring my calculated impromptu on her. girls like it when guys meet them in cute off-the-cuff Dawson's Creek ways. Girls always want to meet under circumstantially perfect spontaneous situations. Which is sheer stupidity. Which allows me to capitalize on their overindulgence of the Cinderella movie running non-stop thru their skulls.
But back to katie..
there are 2 directions with hot girls..and one of those directions splits up into 2 sub directions.. those being 1a) dumb and awkward like a deer caught in the headlights.. or 1b) dumb and abrupt like an ungrateful homeless person you happen to throw a dime at, who is only in the market for dollar bills..
the other direction is reciprocation-- respect.
Girls that give themselves cannot be hated.. they can be accused of being gullible or naive. they can be envied. But they cannot be hated. which is why so many girls are hated.
Katie gave me a promise.
..she not only gave me her attention.. her smiling face.. her warm simple conversation.. she gave me her word. (but not her number.)
"..i have to get going because i have to be back at work."
"can i call you sometime for [something]?"
"..how about if we just meet here sometime?"
"okay when?"
"..well i'm on my break at this time, or during the week i'm free."
"how does tomorrow sound?"
"..sure."
"around 2:30?"
"sounds good, i gotta get going. i'll see you then."
..some miscellaneous bye-byes.
Normally i wouldn't trust a girl farther than i could throw her, katie was no exception. i never really expected her to show up. but i said i would show up. and i'm gullible. and i give people the benefit of the doubt sometimes. these clauses will usually add up to my cameo appearance. although i've cut down my wait time to 15 mins. (check back with me in highschool when i might have waited a few weeks for a girl to show up, thinking she had popped a tire on the way over, had to attend an emergency funeral for her dead grandma in Connecticut, presently fighting thru 6pm rush hour traffic on her way over.)
Katie was there before me.
I sat down at her table. We had a long talk about make-believe events (me, pathological story teller) and searching for a new job (her).
Girls are still girls eventually. They may try to trick you by acting polite and looking pretty. But underneath every girl is an American Girl™ dying to have her cake and eat it too. Knowing this, i took full advantage of my fireside chatting ability. I tried to concentrate on her face. Her hairline is an even poised row of soft wheat art brushes.. like fresh clinging snow along a Wyoming cattle fence. And her face is a remarkable display of unlikely curves and pronounced expression.. she smiled and her whole face joined in..
But the important part was-- she kept her word.
I was impressed.
Now comes the real test. Phone call this weekend. Can she pull it off?
Ye of misplaced faith and lesser understanding.
