"I think it's gonna be a long, long time, `till touchdown brings me round again to find, I'm not the man they think I am at home... I'm a rocketman, burning out his fuel out here alone..." Rocketman by Elton John and Bernie Taupin.

Friday, July 02, 2004

the nice things about our imperfections is... the joy it brings to others! -- as texted to me by my father

Racket one is done, waiting for the payment, and second job is in the bag, with a deadline for tomorrow and some more comin' up this weekend. Will be busy, busy, busy as a busy bee, but also means I'll be putting money, money and more money in the bank. That will pay for my India trip next year and my computer and car for this year. I can feel it. I'm getting one of those "C"s pretty soon. It's probably going to be the computer, I need it more and it would be the more practical buy. Anyway, I've really let go of going out and just really enjoyed the more, sublime and quiet gimmicks.

I've never really enjoyed inebriation anyway. I've decided to face life with my eyes filled with clarity. I'm going to take it on with my head clear. Sobriety is the car that I'll be driving for a long time.

Last night, went out with the gang and had a grand time (without a drop of alcohol). It's a little gift of mine, the ability to just watch other people drink and then just get really high and tipsy on watching people drink. I hit these heights of natural high that I can't explain. I was so close to doing cartwheels on the street despite having not drunk anything the whole night but water, watermelon shake and ice tea... These crazy-assed actions all from just watching other people drink. I love it. I miss doing that. Going nuts from watching others drink.

And it can be done and I really, really hate it when people insist that I should drink and that stupid little thing where, I can't have fun if I don't drink. Who said that? And where did it say that I had to drink to have fun? It is so not true and I really can't stand that standard. What? Do they only like me when I become autistic and start dancing alone on one corner or start shouting profanities and vulgarities? Does that make me more fun to be with? What about my wit? And my intelligence? I thoguht those things counted; I thought that made me fun to be with...

Oh well... Pity the poor people who think otherwise. I can just imagine the kind of life they are leading...
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