one time i got called a bitch. there are worse things than being a girl dog, and it implies "agressive." yeah, unecessarily aggressive, but that's better than unecessarily weak. it also implies a complainer. i don't like that so much, but everybody complains, right?

one time i got called a pussy. that's funny. funny because it's true. i am not a fighter, i would like to be, but the one time under the bridge when that drunkish guy was slapping my face asking me where my friends were, i could only stammer out a 'i don't know.' i still don't know how to fight. i have tasted that fight-adrenaline and i always end up regretting what i have done, so i get nervous when angry. also, i cry at movies.

one time i got asked if i really loved the girl moving to china. i think they were jealous, or something. why do they care who i love or don't love? it's true though, the fact that i'm not with her begs the question, 'do you love her?' i mean, isn't love this intense cascade of emotive force that makes you do things? isn't love undeniable? how could what i have for this girl, who i don't rush to this instant, be love? every moment i am with her, i was never away from her. every moment i am away from her, is just life waiting to be with her. it's not painful, merely imperfect. answer: i am only just understanding the varied inconsistencies of four letter words. the brink of a field of dappled greys. yes, i love her. no, i'm not with her. shikata ga nai.

one time i was unintelligent[,] bombastically egotistical and unenlightened. now that's just being silly. of course, of course, of course. thanks, move on.

i was told to remember my own advice. i've never been very good at that. i don't know many who are. people like to tell others what to do, and then not do it because it is hard. i told them, stop thinking it's all about you, because it's not. and it was true. it wasn't in insult, because they felt insulted or hurt because of some words. i guess the words worked, but they weren't about them. they just were. but right here. right now. on this page: that advice is false. dead wrong. it is all about me. this is my place, and i can shape it however i wish. i want each ebb and flow of character to be me, to show me, ugly and pretty, bent and clean. this, if it is to work, must be me. even in its lies. it is all about me.