Jun. 15th, 2003

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I slept today. Lots. Watched Buffy season 2 (DVDs are wonderful, ain't they?), M*A*S*H* reruns, and the really lame ass set up for I Love Lucy. TV can be a close friend when you're feeling loopier than shit.

And then I decided to go and see what Bri Bri was up to. To talk. To walk, and to figure out what the hell was what.

I made a side stop at the store to buy CDs that I can't afford. But hey, it's music, right?

En route got called by Liz (who, if I haven't said it enough before, is da bomb shit, yo), and chatted about stuff, and the scene, and the scene drama, and girls, and friends, and general stuff. We don't talk as much as we should, since we both like to talk, and have this savage understanding of the frightening stupidity of The Masses.

And then Bri and I walked around and talked about *stuff* Him being married, me being single, and both of us wanting new jobs, money, time, blah blah blah blah blah. And it was good. Cathartic for me, and I think for him as well--though to a lesser extent. We both have a lot on our chests that we don't tend to talk about with most of our friends (including the furry one, and the new Mrs. Bri Bri), but then we've known each other for nearly 15 years. There's this scary language that we speak. And it makes sense to little of no one, even us at times. It' a level of intimacy that I only really have with one other person (who I don't get to see as often as I like...) I swear, find me a woman where I get that way with and...

I know that I worry about many things too much. And sometimes it's unwarranted. Most of the time. But I do. And I have to deal with them. And...it's like...you know? That.

And You. Yes, *you*. Keep your head together. Keep your heart together. Don't worry. It will be okay. It will. Because this sometimes is the fire that tempers that which becomes better. Stronger. Sharper.

"What matters most is how you walk through the flame"--Charles Bukowski

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