It feels so good to sloe burn. Whose was that confounded bridge? Ever go out like a fiend in the night, searching? I did, and died again tonight. 

Why do I bother? To write, to attempt to socialize, It all falls square in my face. Have you ever had your heart broken, spirit smashed? Try having ALL your friends turn against you & physically walk away.... It's happened to me. 

I tell you, living through scenes like that and walking away, knowing there is nothing more reliable in this world than the ubiquity of apathy and the saving grace of time. Social as I may be, living up to the expectations of others is more than I expect from myself. 

I don't care about popularity - It's never lasted long. Eventually, I am misunderstood too frequently by enough people to be extricated. On the other hand, I've proven my proficiency at asshole-ish-ness. 

It's difficult to subjectively determine which is the case in actuality, given how fucked up I generally need to be to withstand the pressure of communication in the first place. I feel I'm finally outgrowing this compulsion; to be hated or loved, but never forgotten. 

6/18/99, KV