September 14, 2001
you know nothing about me. Pretend you don't know that I am a right
cynical bastard. Pretend you don't know how cold, black, and dead
my heart really is. Pretend I've never posted here before.
you pretending? This is serious...work with me here.
a people watcher. I am fascinated by all people. I'm amazed by the
things they do, and the things they say. I often analyze people
and try to understand WHY they did or said something. I get pleasure
from going to the mall and watching people as they shop, or as they
talk. Just to watch. I'm not a psycho, I'm just amazed by people
and their routines...I guess it's because I'm bored. I never approach
the people I watch, and I usually don't interfere with their day.
I just observe them like I'm watching a movie. I'm not a voyeur,
per se...but I watch like to watch people and try to understand
this week I've been looking at pictures of people, places, and things
and they are all broken. Even my girlfriend is broken! All the pictures
I've seen this week are of things broken...and it has struck me
squarely in my cold, dead heart. I have been on the verge of screaming
for days because of these images. I need to see something pretty.
Anything pretty. I went back through all my photos from my photography
class and they aren't very pretty. Black and white photos have a
certain "dark" quality to them. They made my situation
worse. I scoured the internet for photos...and found a lot of porn.
While that made me kinda happy for a few seconds, it wasn't what
I was looking for.
artist in me is craving attention. I need to see something pretty
to tear the fear from my eyes. I found nothing. After this week
I will forever be looking at people with suspicion instead of interest.
I already don't trust anyone I don't know, but after this...I think
I am now afraid of those same people.
said it 1000 times: Human beings cannot co-exist. (Sure I
stole that line from a Biohazard song, but it's *so* true...it bears
repeating, over and over.)
what I dont understand: Someone whom I have never met with
a name I can't pronounce, did something horrible to people I have
very little in common with, and the reason for this act has every
bit of ZERO to do with me. Logically this tragedy wouldn't
mean tit to me...would it?
has me totally frazzled. I'll explain..
we were young and still suckling from mommy and borrowing money
from daddy, we didnt worry about the problems of the world.
Our only concern was getting blow jobs. Then we grew up and somehow
got a credit card.
we have a mortgage, car payments, health coverage, insurance, oil
changes every 3000 miles, acid indigestion, shitty internet connections,
bad haircuts, Occupational Privilege Tax, persistent headaches,
cat puke on the carpet, and embarrassing flatulence. We deal with
people who drive with one foot firmly pressed on the brake at all
times, people who didnt know Buster Pointdexter wasnt
his real name, people who stop to let you pull out when there is
no one behind them, people who talk loudly at lunch about Nostradamus
predictions, and coworkers who stand at your cube and talk for hours
even after you take a few phone calls and write a dozen e-mails.
youre young, you dont care about things like
I dont know
WORK. As soon as you get off the bottle
and dads wallet slams shut, all of the sudden the problems
of the world are YOURS TOO. Anything that could possibly disrupt
your daily routine is now a HUGE issue. Well this tragedy is a major
disruption to our daily routine. Remember watching Gulf War
TV (aka CNN) ten years ago? Get ready to relive that
a long, long time.
point Fritz...get to the fucking point, you rambling git!
no point. I just needed to share my feelings with everyone, and
let you know that even though I come off as a total wank, I am a
caring person. I just stop caring when I get let down.
everyone back home: I miss you. Pour a Capn & Coke for