The evening's entertainment was The Emperor's New Groove. For those of you who haven't seen it, it's easily one of the best comedies I've ever seen. It's Disney, but there's only the theme song, which is funny as all hell.

It was nice to see everyone. I didn't feel as terribly awkward as I usually do in very large groups of people I know. It was suprising even more because Miss E was amongst them.

At the bottom of the older entries page are the archives. Under Who I Am, you'll find a brief description of my love life. To summarize for the unintrepid: this girl hurt me terribly and, at points, with gleeful malice (yeah, just like the last few, but trust me she takes the cake, candles, AND the crown of thorns). I could literally feel rot creeping onto my foot when she accidentally brushed it. Too bad, really...she has potential to be a good person, hell, alot more than just that.

But my job as teacher, healer, and all around peer conselor is dead and gone. For now, it's just a student. Speaking of which, I hear the intrepid bells of university calling out to me. Mmm...early morning chemistry homework.

.

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Yeah, pathetic attempt to shift attention from something of obvious importance to a trivial matter. So many people do that in life, but everyone is left wondering "oh...ow".

(the part coming up is nasty and introspective. Don't condemn my pain for angst or pity me. It's just another set of emotions. Please. Thank you)

The hell am I kidding; it bothered me to see her. Not alot, but enough to spark the thought that maybe it's better to quit on that one. She was.. evil and effective because she honestly didn't know, then didn't mind nor care at all. And I still care about her, even if what she stands for to me is wrong and vile.

I can't ever lie to myself, you see. I can't, I've tried. I've really tried. It's like I have a Freudian Superego that never gives up. I've often taken myself to the depths of my own personal Hell and thrown myself against the cobblestones, hearing the soft wet crack of my knees buckling under the floor beneath me.

Blood pools out like a silk scarf around me. The whip snaps, vipers drawing deaf blood as I kneel there. I mentally whip myself for hours to emphasize a point, a mistake, abandoning everything else as useless just to find it's still strapped to my back. I sometimes want to lie, to push things aside, but I won't let me...ever...not once.

Yes, the endearing warmth of expecting pity and compassion for a tragic. I used to want that so much. Only thing I lived for sometimes, being withdrawn and hoping for some handout. Noone extends the hand out to you, folks. I've done it, I've been there. Pity is a land of God forsaken plains, your breath hollowly echoing for miles. You stay there, you die there.

I climbed out on my own, but am I somewhere else again? Why do the days seem so familiar? Why do situations I've never been in, places I've never seen seem so familiar? I keep revisiting the past, but it just happened. It happened now and again...now every day, every hour, constantly. It buzzes, jitters, flies around me. Peck, peck, peck, nudge, peck, again, again! Peck, peck, GOD!

I keep biting down on the side of me that always tries to pull me away, persuade me that I'll fail and finally die like a good boy. The combination is incessant, hordes throwing themselves against city gates, wave after wave, pounding, screaming. Madness billowing underneath and all around me like swarms of flying cockroaches. Blood, flesh, imprisonment, the plains, echoes, the battle cascading around me as everything turns starkly quiet.

I hold power here; these are my armies in civil war. I have a choice. I always will. I have one order...

I refuse.

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