20.Dec.2001

but I'm listening to Rammstein

--

one in four still here

I am in an insanely good mood. Not so much smiling so hard that my face falls apart, but so much letting the sun play against the side of my face at ten in the morning.

My Christmas gifts to everyone will be late this year. I do the same thing every fucking Christmas. Fashionably late. More like procrastinatingly late.

Lord of the Rings is still amazing. I suggest everyone stand in line for hours next to some ninja-dressed geek fuck. It will be worth it.

As a Christmas present to Jay, I decided to print him off a passage from my journal where he's broken down into chewable tablets as the hair-tossing muse, along with a pocket Dictionary as the running joke between us.

Last night, he asked, "Since you say you know me oh-so-well ..." to which I interrupted, "I never claimed to know you oh-so-well, fucker." He paused for a moment before asking me, "What am I?"

"You'll know Friday," I said.

At three in the morning, he finally laid his head down to sleep. I stayed awake and tossed words together in disturbingly unreadable penmanship in the infamous, college-ruled red notebook. It's unsettling at the rate he begins to open himself up to me. I am waiting for him to flip the tables and close off. I think his switch is beginning to break.

Jay sounds like a psychology project. To some small extent, he is. It also doesn't hurt he has mind-fuckingly delicious Native American boy hair down the middle of his back.

The subconscious was brought to the forefront again, and we debated. He mentioned something about the 5th of January to which I forgot to write down until now.

Either way, it's going to be subtly moving.

I think I may be starting to like the little bastard.

I love Christmas without the snow. A year in Minnesota will jade anyone on the snow. Have a good weekend, all.

--

time & machine