I used to read this blog and feel sorry for the anonymous people behind all the moaning contributions about the elusiveness of love. I thought, 'you only have to be open to it and to work hard on being lovable'. Now my heart is vapor. I want to tear it out of my chest and give it to a bum. When I talk to people I feel like the mouth of a terrible cave. And all I have to look forward to is to joining you.

Oct 29th 2005(unedited for your reading pleasure)

I forewent Ellie O's party this evening in lieu of a night with Meg Ryan and Billy Chrystal.  You might say that time spent alone watching romantic comedies is a little on the self-important side of the sadness spectrum.  But, let's be realistic, that's the side you want to stay on 'cuz the other side is where all the fatalities occur.  I did a bit of drawing today but my hands were lazy and my mind was soft.  

I should be able to spring back from rejection with alacrity, reminding myself of my enormous creativity and unparalleled charisma.  But, until I shape said enormous creativity into tangible matter and/or display said charisma to appropriate audiences, love will remain elusive.  

You know, you really do have these high hopes when you sit down to write.  You think to yourself, "this time, this time I'm gonna nail it."  But alas, ambiguity takes control-as she always does- reminding you that you really know very little and any moments of clarity you may have are just annoying little glitches that seem like answers but are really just questions masquerading thru the fancy dress party in your mind.  Whew! Not the hottest rant I've ever been on but I've had worse audiences, the type that just sit there, mouths agape, looking around for an escape route;  surveying the crowd for someone normal to interact with.  Someone less intense, less hostile, less self-obsessed.  Less is more.