09.08.2004
Once More, With Feeling
I get so irritated by guys online. It's pretty sad when you start to appreciate the ones who ask you right away if you want to fuck. Because the other ones talk to you for a while, talk some shit, then ask you if you want to fuck in some creepy, outlandish way. I've been chatting for a few weeks with this guy, and he's kind of coming out as bisexual, so we talk alot about that kind of stuff. And just now, he told me he wanted to fuck me all night long, but only if I'd let him come inside me once. I told him that was unacceptable (the coming inside me without a condom part, not the telling me he wanted to part). And he flipped out, said he was going to "block" me, and logged off. Ha! Fucking chump.
I think all these hurricanes are the latest terrorist act. Traffic lights out. Power out. Hysteria multiplies. Uneasiness multiplies. We are ripe for the picking. Desperate for basic elements of survival, becoming a third world country in only a few hours by one storm. It's the perfect plan. People freak out, drive like idiots, forget their manners, complain about the smallest things. Invasive, subversive terrorism. Keep us all scared, wondering if and when the next one will hit. But hey, just a theory.
I don't talk to Eddie much lately...he told me last week he wanted to cut out "extracurricular" activity so he could focus on his business. But when I asked if I should back off for a while, he said he didn't mean me. So then what changed? We talked everyday for weeks, and now we have a 5 minutes conversation every few days, and a long one once a week. I'm being cool and calm about it, because lord knows I have my own shit going on, so I can definitely understand someone else needing some time and space to figure shit out, but that doesn't mean I can't miss the talking. He's been sick lately, so maybe he's just under the weather. There I go again, making excuses for other people. You know, really. Is it that hard to call for five minutes? I don't think so...
Argh. My nails are black and my eyes are dry. And my stomach hurt for a little while last night, and all I kept thinking was, "Oh my god. It's another rotting organ that's going to have to come out." I wonder when I'll get over that particular fear.
Listening to: "Protection" by Portishead and Massive Attack
alannablue at 4:10 p.m.