No happy endings, odd boys and freudian anxiety.
Thursday, 04/29/04 - 9:34 pm.

I'm going to finish yesterday's stories:

Parrots: there were no parrots at the barrow. Probably they did belong to a friend of the lady (who sells accesories in the street), who will continue to keep them both in the minimal cage for the rest of their miserable lives.

Cathedral take-over: oh, that story's not over yet (it's gotten worse), but I'm too overwhelmed by it I just don't want to talk about it anymore. I'm so pissed off at the media and at politics and at narrow-minded people. And yet it's kind of funny that I feel as though it's happening overseas (far away) when I'm just a few miles away from where it's actually happening. I heard the helicopters this morning, but in the end nothing happened (police beat up people and such...I mean, nothing new happened).


I had my Theories of Personality test today. It was nice. Decent. I failed a few questions, haha, loser, I know, but I'm confident about it. I really love that subject.

I saw a certain boy today and I thought: "oh, man, I've been looking in all the wrong places".

No, it's not a crush. He just made, think. He's a few years older than me, but we went to the same school. I met him in 8th grade, because he was Fidel's (Fidel, my teacher and friend) friend. But I guess the context is not important right now (I just remembered a few things about 8th grade and I was thisclose to drift away on a huge tangent).

This guy was quite a charachter. He's an artist, insanity included. Insanity above all, really. He once faked an epileptic attack in the library. He did that kind of stuff...walking in the mall until he hit his head against a column and such.

I was attracted to him. No, not romantically, at all. I just kind of wanted to be like him, you know? He never cared for me, except for once, when I lent him one of my notebooks of writings and drawings, because he'd heard a lot about them (those were the last days of the Simeon era *sobs*).

YOU, aremy idol!, he said, when he gave it back to me. Talk about an ego boost. It meant the world to me, coming from the insane one. He borrowed another notebook from me after that, and I think it took him six months to give it back to me. But just because he was absent-minded and had forgotten I existed.

So I saw him today. That's all. And I realized what my type of boy is. I want an odd boy. And you know why I never knew that? Because I've never encountered one. I don't care if he looks like Trent (aka DenimJacketGuy) or LongSleevedGuy or AngelicalGuy. I just want him to be odd. I'm not talking about this boy, the artist, in particular. He just made me realize all this. But it's kind of dumb, because I don't feel like having romantic feelings for anyone nor viceversa.

I took guitar lessons last semester at the UCA, right? Ok, it was more like a workshop, two hours a week. The point is I saw the ad for this semester's workshop about "popular" guitar. I have no goddamned idea what that means. I don't know anything about guitars, despite my playing one (I still suck, of course...but I suck with a little more speed at my fingers, yo). Hell, yeah, I'm joining. $5 for two months, it's quite a swap.

I must wrap this up now, for I have to study for tomorrow's midterm. It's the last one of the first half of the semester. And because of it, I have a freudian type of anxiety, the reality anxiety (fear, duh). I have not studied for this one, at all. I was too busy studying for the other three, that seemed more difficult. But I think so far I've failed none. Still, that's not enough. I need to get no less than 9 (on a scale of 10), and that I don't think I can manage to achieve. And so I'll be crushed and embarrased, and my reality anxiety will turn into moral anxiety (fear of my own conscience, therefore my Over-I or Super Ego).

Freud would say I have a very bossy Super Ego. Because as you may or not know, Super Ego is all about achieving perfection, the little wretch.

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