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I can't be that bad. Kristina is treating me badly, exit stage left.

I saw a couple of women at Dunne's who I wanted to talk to, and did not. Yes, a couple. That one, she looked elegant and calm. She looked at me like she wanted me to talk to her. The other, she was up at Brennan's the other night. She has a nice little ass. Beautiful little body. I could have said hi to her. She was looking at me as I left the off-license.

I went by to talk with G_ at Lotus House. He was busy.

Always women I want to meet, and think that I will see again, that I will talk to her next I see her. Years and years this happens.

A little depressed, I am. And why not? It's this loneliness.

So. Either Chris or Gicu are going to move in here. I'm ambivalent, but not knowing is bothersome.

Ambivalent.

Turning either way. Etymology. Words. This, my writing. Some dignity. It's hard to live with dignity, when the women I know treat me with disrespect; the women I don't know, I fear to talk to.

A disolute anxiety. Disconsolate, wanting to relax. Wanting to burn, to be on fire, to glow... to go boldly where no man has gone before. Don't split an infinitive. Ah, well, It's English; our infinitives are formed of two words—sometimes they will just split on their own.

Ambivalent. Turning both ways. Etymology: international scientific jargon.

G_ thinks I should apologize to M_. I agreed with him, what he said. But I don't feel it. I don't feel apologetic. I don't know how to be apologetic about what I said, when what I said was from the way I felt. Awkward in form. What I feel now, I don't know; I cannot know how I will feel about M_ when I see her again. I don't know how she will treat me when I see her again, or how I will feel about that. If I am remiss not to say to her that I'm sorry for what I said... well, I don't know.

I don't know if my elemental frustration and aggravation is going to scupper the deal, what will happen. So maybe I'll bollocks it up both with Gicu and Chris. No matter. No matter. What will be will be.

But a nigger like me will say fuck you.

And when I'm finished, bring the yellow tape.

[lines from a couple of NWA songs playing while I wrote.]

Anger. Yes, it's true.

Ima go past the beer store, pick up a little couple of brews. Go see Gicu. Make it up to Justin's with the couple of beers for me and the ones I bought earlier for him. Drank the ones I got for me.

No hurry. But it's time.

-- 30 March, 2003 <!-- TEXT -->

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