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Tuesday, May 31, 2005

50 ways to leave your lover, beyotch!!

To quote the late Alice in chains:

"Weeelll, it's over now
I'm still alive somehow"

I went out, put my act together, sold my image, made my moves, gave my old seductive looks away and, according to all logic and sanity in this world, somebody fell for it, completely and utterly infatuated with me.

That had never happened before, not with that speed and showmanship at least.

So this girl suddenly wanted everything from me, and was willing to go the long mile for it. And at first it felt wonderful, you know, to have someone so devoted to you, so ready to -i thought- erase all those years of frustration and repressed loving held within me.

We got together on a saturday, the sunday afterwards I wanted to rest a bit, because I had been awake like 23 hours straight, and so I rested and answered to her cellphone IM's every now and then. She was quite into it.

When I woke up the following monday, I started thinking that, in fact, she was WAY TOO MUCH into it.

And I was scared, which was also a first time for me(sometimes I was the one to scare my couple with the Blitzkrieg of lovin' I could give away, but I never thought I could be so overpowered!)

I felt so shaken, God had answered my prayers with, exactly, what I was asking for, and now I was freaking scared!

At that point I decided, amongst many things, that I was in need for some pro help, that very evening I called a friend of mine to arrange therapy sessions (yep, PSYCHOtherapy, baby).

I decided, ol' talking Mario, that I should talk it with her, I felt like she was telling me "I love you" and "darling" and "my love" and such a bit too early. So I took her to my place, told her that and expected that things would slow down a bit.

You know what happened?

We had sex.

That's right "baby, I think we're going too fast, we might just crash and burn you know, let's just gear down, shall we?" she said sure, we kissed and the next thing I know is that we peeled off our clothes and were at it.

Way to go, tiger.

I guess she wanted, I wanted, end of story. And to be completely honest, it was a completely welcome relief at the time. However I could start there to notice the problem, the root of all evil...

I just couldn't like her, period.

As this stories go on, it all started to go downhill from there. I decided to try to find an angle to it, to get to like her one way or another. After all, I'd been complaining like a broken record about my loneliness, hadn't I?

But it was hopeless, about half of the things she did annoyed me to no end, her voice is a torture -she has a speech handicap of some kind, I dunno- her conversation is boring beyond all known limits, and we have pretty much nothing in common. I had to face the fact. You can't force a relationship where it doesn't exist.

I even thought "well, perhaps another bed session will fix it, I mean, hormones usually keep this things going for a little longer, right?"


I wish I hadn't done it again, it was a nightmare, I never thought I'd be disgusted with somebody in bed, and now it happened. It made me feed a little older.

It then became obvious that there wasn't a way to keep it going. Not even hormones, I needed a way out. And of course, I had never finished before a relationship in my life, so I had no idea what to say.

In the end, I had no alternative but to say the truth, trying to soften the sharp angles to it.

She wasn't pleased, I can tell that. But some of the things she'd said afterwards have actually confirmed that it was the right thing to do.

Now I'm free again, and the ghost of loneliness is out again, but this time it howls with a weaker voice. Now I know exactly how desperate I am, and the answer of course is:

"not that much"

Still, I feel kind of tired, you know?

If anyone knows of a brain erasing procedure, please mail me, ASAP.

we are sick of remembering...

Thursday, May 26, 2005

The beggining is the end is the beginning

Well finally, I've been waiting to write this for a long while now.

I won't even bother saying my name, those who know the lineage of the nickname "DragonMago" know me enough to go on reading this. Magic player, engineer, musician, smart-ass and full-time nutcase.

So, will this become a journal? Naaah, I've never pretended to be so organized as to carry on a full-blown journal every freakin' day. It is -for the elite speech impaired- "the dumpster" just a place where figments of my imagination will come to live every now and then.

So, shall I introduce the voices in my head? Well, not really, to be honest, I don't have them, but I like to think of myself as if I were a pencil (you know, the old, wooden ones) with a bunch of facets that take over the front face every now and then. I'd like to think that my main face is there most of the time, the one I'd like to think its me. Maybe. If one of the other facets wants to slip a commentary, it will be in italics, verbatim:

I'm so sleepy and this egocentric motherfucker is still writing, damnit!!!

Well, actually that one is right, I should sleep, or rest, or something.

And to be honest I don't feel like writing that much right now.

Hey Jazie, heard the widow yet?? maybe you'll hear it again with my lyrics, you know, maybe you'll have to hear it forever after that, hehehe....

What do you know.

PS In the other hand I'd really like to point something out, for me and all of me: I DO NOT LIKE TO LOSE!! And I don't like to win with no effort. Those two factoids explain two things:

- Why am I still bummed and bitter about some of my recent emotional events, and
- Why am I about to break up with my current girlfriend, who did nothing wrong