2004-03-24-6:11 p.m.
Where to begin...

It's hard enough to understand one's self and with so many different people interacting with you, life is a mess.

History is the on-going tragedy of the individual vs other people's will. We are all individuals, that is a fate no one can escape. Our desires can never possible match other people's desires and expectations. Then if History is a tragedy of different desires, one's own personal life is a chaos of bitter emotions conflicted against other people's bitter emotions.

My sister and mother call me bull headed and stubborn? But that's only because I don't live my life as THEY see how to live life. This type of argument has killed countless people (thank you religion and philosophy). The first line of the Zohar says that the path of the Torah is made up of 32 different paths. They all go in the same direction but they just go different ways. Some how, there is a idea that living life is a one path system.

That's psychotic.

If every person has a very differnt genetic makeup and different environmental factors playing on them... how can there be one way? One set of rules for all of humanity that they can follow? Doubtful.

And people just don't understand when you don't agree with them. "It just makes so much sense" they say. But that's for you, not me. I support people and their dreams but those aren't my dreams.

It's wise to live without expectations but better to keep one's mind open and focused.

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Now I want to focus on better things. Vanessa is such a changing mask of emotions. Today I was studying for my Psych Reseach Test and she sat next to me annoucing that she broke up with her boyfriend. Whenever I hear about break ups with people I know, my heart skips a beat because its a surge of emotions for the person.

But she was happy. It was a clean, mutual breakup. Those are the best. Then she told me about staying up till 4 am drinking; that's her ritual for breakups. For that split moment I could see some saddness in her face. She looked upset and lonely. Then she perked up by saying she had a date with some random guy she was serving at work.

Me: "Er, that's kinda fast isn't it?"

Vanessa: "I know it's fast, but he's cute and he gave me his number."

Women are simply amazing. I work with Vanessa and most of the servers are girls. When on break, all they talk about is "the cute guy." I feel almost jealous because they are talking about that right next to me at my station. It makes me feel like I'm not one of the cute guys!

Maybe that's just judgemental thinking on my part. Or maybe I'm just not the type of person to sacrifice all my time to be "the cute guy." It takes a lot of work to be the cute guy. I work out in the gym because I need more strength for Sword Training and I run because I want to improve my heart muscle and oxygen flow. Sometimes I can't make the gym because I'm balancing classes, books, tests, and fiction story reviews like I'm a circus freak. With all that I can't get the perfect 2% body fat weight. I can't have that perfect ass women LOVE. I have a lean body (some people call me skinny, but my body looks lean without the baggy clothing on) but not the time to get cute guy status. There is so much in life to do that time has to be thrown around. I'm not going to throw all my time into one category. Martial Arts takes up time but not all my time. There are books to read, other skills to perfect, thoughts to settle, life to live.

So love is then about first physical attraction.

Man in cafe: "You know who I'm talking about, right? Red hair, big tits?"

And then there is the pure form of love where the very essence of the person, who they are, makes them special. This form... is very hard to find. Harder then being the cute guy. Harder than having the nice ass.

I'm 21 years of age, it will take quite awhile to make my own "soul" grow more. This year has done a lot. Till then, love will be somewhere else. Even lust. I'm so sad now! =(

Actually, over spring break, Vanessa and I had a couple drinks at the beach and she had her bike with her. She wanted me ride on the handle bars.

Guys... do not ride on handle bars if the bike has a hook for a basket, this will hurt your testicles a lot.

Then it was decided (through a lot of laughter because drunk people laugh a lot) that Vanessa would ride on the handle bars while I bike. At first it was hard to balance (obviously) and we were swerving in the street blocking traffic. Keep in mind we are still laughing. Then the next block the ride is more straight and then we start crazy swerving.

That was the most fun I've had in awhile. Kids, don't try that at home. In fact, if your a kid, why are you reading this? This is an X rated diary. We cuss, drink, and tape porno here at Nisayon.Diaryland.Com (porno entrys will come when I decided to drop out of college and make a living screwing 40 year old women.)

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