I think I have matured. Priorities are set, but I just need the means. I have rid myself of that hideous want of a signifigant other. Although I'm certain it will come up again. My mind's expanding. New ideas are mandatory for my brain. Read Read Read Write. 3x reading for one writing. 3 books for one essay. 3 anthologies for one novel. Of course for poetry, it's more like 20x. 20 poems for one. 3x short stories for one. My painting and drawing skills are better. I can better tolerate. but I know my limits. and I am willing to act on them if they are severe enough.

Oh what to do. I fucking hate almost everything you say or do. You complain. everyday. it's what you seem to do best. you never stop. and you even complain about people complaining. You try....too....far too hard to be funny. the hyperbole in your words are almost like a ham. they're not even funny. you don't know how to pull it off effectively. You are weak. Mentally. So weak minded and I hate that. Be fucking strong you jackass. I will not pity you, because you stand fearful of the unknown. But what I hate most. Is what you've been saying about Jessica who is your friend. You fucking backstabber. She hasn't talked ill of you. I won't tell her. But I won't forget it. She is my friend. I will defend her when she knows not.