Dec 29
- Had a vivid dream that I won't soon forget. Things I wish were so.
- No underwear. Again.
- Yummy dinner.
- Finally got a call from Nick: "New York Nick" for you Minnesota readers, "Minnesota Nick" for you New York readers.
- Met up in St. Paul.
- Discussed poetry projects and other chit-chat.
- Caught "Breakfast on Pluto" @ The Lagoon (we didn't really like it).
- By the time I got back to my car, the sky was surging snow!
- I drove home veeeeerrry slooooooowly.
- Safe and sound. Thanks for waiting up, dad!
I often try to inconspicuously maintain mystery about myself when I meet new people. Some narcissistic neurosis, I'm sure. Consequently, not many people get to know me very well. I don't attend many social gathering, partially because I don't think those sort of things are very interesting, but also because the parties in my social circle tend to involve some kind of chemical recreation and for reasons I'm not entirely sure of, I don't partake in those activities. I think a large part of it deals with retaining control of my faculties. I have a compulsion to scrutinize my behavior, both before I enact it and, to my frequent infuriation, after. Booze eliminates my ability to think before I speak and remember what I've said. In my artistic work I have difficulty "letting go"; the same appears to be true in my life. Another, more conscious contributing factor is the desire to be thought of as virtuous by the standards I claim to reject. I hold myself as godless, with no belief in objective morality. I voice approval for pre/non-marital sex, recreational drugs, alcohol usage and the like, but I enjoy none of these in my life. Perhaps I think my adherence to moral standards awards me credit with those who proselytize them; credit to then be spent on shouting down those very standards. I expect the real reason is more selfish: I want others to think me virtuous. Virtuous and mysterious. Not qualities that get me laid!
