BLACK. Nothing but black. Black everything. Total Blackness. Black hole. Black green. Black day. Black Jack. Black Destruction. Black Satan. Black eyes. Black avenger. Black blackness. Black night. Black skies. Black insomnia. Black dementia. Wanna get black too?

Yes.

No.

No.

i wear black on the outside cause black is how i feel on the inside

I wear dried cats' blood on the outside SO I DON'T HAVE TO FUCKING KILL ALL OF YOU!

you wouldn't kill me. if in need of feline blood, agatha should be able to help your sick ass out

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

I told him I was wearing pyjamas. "men's flannel pyjamas?" "yes." "I think that men's flannel pyjamas on women are impossibly sexy." we talked until his cell phone gave out, at about quarter after four in the morning. then he went to a pay phone, the one at 14th and madison, and we talked until five. his hands got very cold, he said. how fucking romantic.

it does sound terribly romantic. damn my lonesome self.

I haven't been in love in years. I wish it could last forever. I wrote to him today: I went to the gym this morning and came back and took a shower. c. was supposed to call me half an hour ago. he wants to see "high fidelity," and I want to sit outside and eat lunch and then see the movie. there's a little window in my bathroom, and I like to open it when I'm taking a shower so the steam doesn't collect in my apartment. last night I spent too long cleaning mildew out of the old place. the window, which looks out onto the parking lot, comes down to my waist, but I usually take showers so early in the morning that there's no one around to see me. today I meant to keep an eye out for people in the lot. I was expecting a call from c., so I put the phone next to the shower. k. called, and we chatted while I showered. after I hung up, I looked out, and there was a baseball cap guy standing about 20 feet away, watching me. I looked at him and shut the window. I guess I can't blame him for looking. but I felt weird about him standing there and staring. it reminded me of a time in mexico when I stayed in a grass hut on the beach and showered in another grass hut up toward the road. when I got done, I realized a man had been standing just outside, looking in. the next time I made m. come with me. this is worse. because he's my neighbor. he'll see me again. I should find some way to hang a little curtain there. it also bothered me because he was holding a two-year-old child, and he was watching me too.

is this the guy who's already involved with someone else? When did you become in love with him?

I don't know when. are you supposed to be able to pinpoint a moment? maybe it's not love. I don't know. it's something like that.

I mean, it must be love if they call you every night when you're fast asleep (because you tell them please, call me any time, really, please) but you're always happy to hear from them. what else could that be?

i see i'm not needed here anymore. wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world.

Can I be the asshole of the world? Please?

Do you run a multinational corporation? That's one of the only ways to qualify.

"we underestimate this little hole, it seems to me. we call it the arsehole and affect to despise it. but is it not in fact the true portal of our being and the celebrated mouth merely the kitchen door." -samuel beckett

Cyst, are you trying to lure him away from his girlfriend or do you want to be his buddy?

I want to lure him away from his girlfriend. I know that if I get him, what I'll have gotten is a guy who cheats on his girlfriends. I know this. but none of that matters.

Ai. she climbed her own entrails expecting heaven, only to be burned by the rays of the sun. the killing floor will embrace you.

whatever.

it's not "whatever". it's Ai. daft wretch.

cyst if i could offer a small voice for the emotional shipwreck you (and he) could inherently cause.............DON'T. the penis/libido can be an evil thing to the owner....don't make it any easier for him to go to the dark side.

Patrick, is there something you'd like to confess?

One of my favorite Stone songs Paint it Black reminds me of this thread,then again one of my other favorite Stone songs was Under my Thumb,and when I thought about it,I thought you BASTARD!!

i don't think so. that is a dead end margret. sorry to lead that on

paint it black is one of my better kareoke hits...

I could go to any kareoke bar and I bet I,d get 86,d just for singing.When Heather and I did the Indian Maidens thing,we,d go to snow camp every winter and have a sing-a-long,she,d beg me to just move my lips.My last night in San Jose,in the bar where I was dancing the mariachi guys were singing some song,it sounded like one ton tomatoe,so I joined in at every chorus.I have gringo fever.I think I,ll write a song,the title will be"I lost my dog and a whole lot of money,gonna get fucked up and pretend that it,s funny".

emotional shipwrecks are as good as they are bad but i'm a sucker for extremes

as am I.....the damned never rest heather

I haven't really liked anyone else in years. my birthday is in a couple weeks. the time is now, regardless of circumstance. heartbreak, emotional shipwreck -- these things don't matter. they're worlds better than nothing at all. I wholly believe that. as if I could turn my back on six glorious weeks of this: the effort not to be obvious last night was monumental. i remember thinking at one point, "all i want is five completely free, safe minutes alone. is that so much to ask?" you're so much sexier in person. completely beautiful. [...] completely ravishing. [...] i wanted everyone to disappear. i wanted, wanted, wanted. i felt a desire for you that was so colossal there was nothing to do but look, agape, stealing glances and touching you for the briefest of moments. i could just look on you for hours. life has never been more like a movie. i was watching us the whole time.

so how does he feel about your conversation? your character? your goals? your talents? unfortunately the anticipation and build up are usually so much better than the reality but i still say cause the shipwreck he's not married he's already cheating on his girlfriend

I agree. Cheat with this guy. That way when the girlfriend finds out, she'll go on to new things. Change is good. You will be left with the carrion, and you will also have had a revolution. Everyone should at least taste what their idea of good is.

he's a nice guy.

agatha kicked my ass at scrabble. I know the anticipation and buildup and suspense are better than the thing itself. reality is all, you know, where are we going to go for dinner and then reading magazines at the table. he doesn't like me just because he thinks I'm pretty. about my conversation: i think of you as the ne plus ultra of ideal dinner party dates: someone who can not only hold her own intellectually in any line of discussion, someone with whom you can exchange the glance that says "fuck all these people" when the discussion gets boring, someone who dresses well with purpose. my character: "self-assured" and "fearless" aren't meant to imply that i think you don't ever feel awkward or out of place or intimidated, but that even in those perilous situations, you have an essential character that allows you to hold your own, to assert your rectitude, not to settle. my goals: i fear the story you would/will write about this because, i realized tonight, that if there's one person alive who could completely figure me out, see through me, you are she. and if you ever wind up hating me (please don't ever) i have no doubt that you would be brutally frank in treating my character. my talents: i don't mean to be overbearing in my encouragement [of your writing], but [...]. the observations are sharp and telling; the rhythm of the dialogue is impeccable; the candor is estimable, brave, and welcome; the wit is high-lowbrow and hilarious; the prose is concise, elegant, and direct. i want you to know that i appreciate you sending it to me, and really admire (and envy) the work. [and I don't like him just because he flatters me.]

how do you know? have you met him, Agatha? Cyst, I don't want to suggest that you don't know your own mind, but are you sure it's not the drama of the situation you're smitten with? Everytime you post something of his or yours it's just fraught with drama, which never lasts.

sounds like the guy is a multi-tasking user. write him off. I'm a guy. I'm a writer. I used to admire other writers (female) in the same way, for the same reason (incomplete ego strength on my part) and nearly always with the same result (falling over the great white dismal cliffs of love) only to be found in the morning in a heap at the crashsite. You don't have to give the slimey bastard an inch of your flesh, or your heart. But no one says you can't have some fun. Be straight with him. Play Columbo, find out what he really wants. He may only want to be a friend and may confuse friend and lover stuff. He may be great, a true anam cara for you, may be a jerk who's doing his gf and the maid and the maillady. I dunno. Hey, it's just my opinion and none of my business, right, just a guy's opinion. Just a guy who used to do that sort of thing for the same reasons perhaps. Now different reasons: when I comment on someone's work, I have no agenda other than a comment, a compliment. It's helpful somedays not to know that I am talking or writing to a wonderfully warm, sensitive woman, and it's helpful for me to remember I am old enough to be someone's daddy or granddaddy; gives a little perspective. Makes me chuckle. Have fun: you're young. Don't be misled by the guy's intentions, though, and be honest with yourself. Sounds like whatever you do will be okay because YOU are okay. Enjoy; allow him to send you flowers and poetry; know that life is too short to waste. Carpe diem or noche, your preference. I'd wear grey sweat pants to your dinner party with my Perry Ellis whites, a green and black bow tie, and Nikes without socks. Reading PEOPLE magazine and clinking crystal bayside with y'all. Indeed.

yes, and damn, it is so difficult to find a reasonable person who can hold her (in my case) own at a dinner party. My dear departed ex-wife was such a one. I have found only one other woman in the intervening years, well two if you count last weekend, but both had other "liabilities." And so as we bid our heroine godspeed, let's hope that she dares and does to the fullest so that we may find entertainment in the ensuing entries. (paraphrase from Sallie Nichols, JUNG & THE TAROT; speaking of the Chariot that carries us home.)

yes, i know him. he really is a nice guy, and from what i can tell is always fairly faithful to his girlfriends. i still think the situation sounds sticky, though. i did not kick your ass. i just barely beat you.

cheating is, cheating is what is cheating? is it at the beginning? at the end? when you tell? when someone finds out? is it cheating not to try when you really really feel something?- you KNOW- but there's someone else

*sigh* being the person thats been cheated on feels like shit. Actually it feels worse. Rejected and hurt and angry and rejected some more.

:(

Actually I'm better kinda. I've realised that i would of walked over hot coals for that boy and that he would never of done the same for me. Nobody deserves that. So what - I'll be single and have a million cats and kids will call me that smelly old woman with the million cats - better than being cheated on and putting up with crap right. right?

absolutely.

thanks. I was getting a little worried then.

you won't be the smelly lady with cats. i'm going to come down there and kick the gump's ass.

cyst--no cheat. moonit--*comf*

cheating means something between you is wrong it is better to know some idea of some kind of truth i've been there i wanted to die now, however, i'm am very very glad to feel more clear with only a small amount of nostalgia for all of those things that were going to be

moonit we can live next to each other and both be the "cat ladies." we can do other eccentric things and all the kids can be scared of us. cats are good company... sometimes. in my hometown the cat lady would give out stewed prunes for halloween.

No matter how hard a prune may be,he,s always getting stewed,people get wrinkles on their face,pruney get.s them everyplace,no mater how hard a prune may try,he,s always getting stewed.

Ignore that,sorry.

soon I'll be wearing a betsy johnson dress. a friend bought it for me for my birthday, which is in two weeks. we're going to eat sushi. then I am going to drink wine with some other friends. then I am going to go on a late date. life is fun.

Note time,when is that drunken thread gonna work again,sometimes I wake up and see what I posted in a drunk haze and I just want to crawl under a rock.But I never do.Cyst when is your B-day?

good friday. thank you, betsey johnson. I want to send her a card or something. he carried me. I'm 6'4. I weigh 163 pounds. he not only picked me up, he carried me. I was carried away. I've started classifying everything in the world as for us or against us. my friends and my enemies. betsey johnson, friend. his guilt, enemy. my menstrual cycle, enemy. cole porter, friend. cherry trees, all friends.

his guilt.enemy. my guilt. bigger enemy. my period. the worst enemy. was I carried away the last 3 weeks of my life? yes. great. fantastic. haven't felt this way 'bout anyone in years. deep emotion. enemy. forget, forget, forget. friend. i'm on the flip side..i hear you cysta...

seeing you was inexpressibly great, despite the constrictions of time, and at least partially because of the constrictions of betsey johnson. but it wasn't the dress. you could have been wearing sweatpants and a parka and it would have been just as sublime.

I have been on both sides of the fence,I,d rather be the fucker,than the fucked.

Here is a generic older thread for you.

An exploding head. An aching back. An upset stomach. Chills with gooseflesh. And a bad attitude. I want to be in bed asleep. But, I'm here at work. And, to top it all off it's grocery night. Argh!!!

Samething today only worse.

Maybe you'd feel better if you smoked some of that wacky weed.

No thank you. I have enough problems with the stuff thats legal. Part of my problem is balancing my medical needs with the interactions of the medications used to treat them. (I went a long way in saying some of the prescriptions I take don't mix to well. Didn't I.) Life is such fun. And, yes my doctors all know what I'm taking; down to the last asperin.

Today I got a new pill. Hope it works. But, I can't start for another week. After my surgery.

Druggie.

to many pills. too little time, right?

good luck with surgery, watcher.