mild mannered updates

I saw Green Lantern last week. Blake Lively is one of the hottest girls I've ever seen.

Hannah is still in my life. I'm in love with her. I don't know that she loves me back. I think she might. I think she thinks of me as very special. But I don't know it.

A part of me will be suspicious and will hate her until she tells me not to.

Work is ever-grueling. Ever draining. Ever stressful. There's always something more to do. I wonder if it will ever change until I throw it all away. Maybe that's the only answer.

I am thoughtful today, having shared my story with a classroom of noobs, having inspired a new set of working class folk (even if only a half dozen at best) into joining the middle class, even if they were already on that path, even if I was just a little token in that direction...

I miss Kait today. I miss Adele in her virgin state, before I'd ever heard her, in that house in Berkeley where everything seemed possible and my 20s were starting anew at 30.

Hannah will love me that much if I don't fuck it up. But I still miss Kait today. Or, actually, I miss the person I was when I loved her.

The days of "someday I'll..." are over, aren't they? Someday I'll love someone enough, someday I'll forgive my mom, someday I'll feel special in the arms of a girl, someday I'll be happy.

Someday. That day is today, or it is never. Time is running out. Things don't get better any longer. It is no longer a question of progression and growth, it is question of trying, however hopelessly, to hold on to the remnants of whatever naivete I can still remember. Of hope. Of physicality, of athleticism, of pride, of external appeal and beauty.

It is all going away.

Or it is already gone.

I am sad today. I have grown all this much, become this much more mellow, more patient, and more chill.

And yet, I have learned nothing.

I am still angry. I still hate. All the women I haven't fucked, all the girls who don't appreciate, all the mothers who don't love, all the boys who don't respect, all the attorneys who are, well, just asshole attorneys.

I hate you all.

I hate myself, a little, for hating you, because I should be a better man than that. Trite, yes. Spent. But I still do. Hate, that is.

Someday... sigh.

Someday is today. I was supposed to have it figured out by now. I was supposed to be a better man, to be a happier man.

I was supposed to love more, and hate less. I was supposed to have good relationships with my siblings and cousins, love my mother, and have a chick with whom I felt whole.

Pieces, I have. But holistically happy? A better person? A better man?

Proud of who I have become? Proud of... anything?

:-(

Maybe next year.