posted by dave on Friday, May 29, 2009 at 1:36 AM in category ramblings

I have this thing that I used to do, years ago. I used to write something every night, before I went to bed. MixedSignalGirl was my muse, back then, though my own thoughts and feelings certainly put their two cents' worth in whenever the pressure became too great.

Now, I'm certainly not saying that I'm going to go back to writing something every day. I've said that before, and I've always failed to live up to that promise. But what I am saying is that I'll do better than I've done in the recent past.


Tonight I was thinking, as I'm so wont to do. Thinking was, as it has always been, a bad thing for me to do.

I was thinking about invitations. Invitations that I've received and invitations I've merely wanted to receive. And I was thinking about what my responses would be. And I was surprised and irritated at some of the realizations I made.

I would still, for example and after everything, rather simply hang out with the girl I love than fuck anyone else.

I've known this, on a subconscious level, for months. But tonight, it really seemed like a choice I might have to make. And, tonight, I once again realized that there would be no real choice.


I tried to be nice. I actually think that I was nice. But it was for naught. I was accused of being mean, basically. Of being an asshole. That same old assumption still ruled, and fuck the truth and the horse it rode in on.

Well, news flash; I'm not an asshole. And neither is the horse. It's a really nice horse, actually.


So then I made a phone call. I asked KittenDamsel straight-out. Her answer surprised me very much. If I go, then she'll go. She'll go and then we'll see what transpires.

There's this thing called faith, see. Not the religious kind, but faith in a person's goodness. I have it. KittenDamsel has it. HatGirl certainly has it. And certain others don't have it. Oh well.

That old saying, better safe than sorry, is all well and good except when it becomes the primary driving force for a life.

Safe, far too often, leads to sorry.

Failure to take any kind of real chance is, quite simply, a failure to live.

comments (4)

"I would still, for example and after everything, rather simply hang out with the girl I love than fuck anyone else."

Why are these your only two choices?

Love encompasses an infinately broad spectrum and you've pigeon-holed it into;

1) Intimacy
2) Sex

. . . . . . . . ahhhh the Y-chromosome . . pity

You misunderstand. I haven't pigeon-holed anything. This was just one of many hypothetical situations wherein I'd get conflicting invitations.

"It's impossible to explore new oceans without first having the courage to lose sight of the shore." - some dude

You'll do what's right for you; of that, I have no doubt. :o)

Ah, MY bad! I now see the err in my interpretation.

STILL. . . in keeping in with the "infinite spectrum" I spoke of above:

If hanging out is the only . . . venue?, language?, context? . . . available to you with which to love and be loved by this person, then so be it, be grateful for what you DO have and make the most of it.

You'll need to get creative with expression and interpretation, being careful not to cross the line into delusional.

As for the sleeplessness, as you lay in bed at night wrap your arms across yourself, imagine they're encompassing the small of her back, breath as if you're breathing with her. . . fall deep into yourself. . . .and look to meet her in your dreams where the contstraints of this world are absent.

OKAY so back to this world and the inelastic collistion of phenolic spheres. . . . WTF. . . I run drills, perfectly. . . bang, bang, bang. . . get into a game . . .and it's like I'm playing bumperpool for crissake, pockets, what pockets? I start summer league Monday nite . . . what about you? You shooting in any leagues? You should, get outta your head a bit. . . allow some light to shine on a different part of Dave, seriously. The obsesssion (for lack of a better word) will be there when the last ball falls.

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