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11:52 p.m. - May 22, 2003 While I lack emotional maturity and an understood sense of the Self, I clobber myself with ambition and plans: Complete Book Two by mid July, begin writing the book I�ve been thinking of for a year that isn�t contractually obligated in borrowed time here and there, begin Book Three by early September. And while I�m shutting things down, nothing better than a new job. Applications for Job 1 and 2 will be completed and mailed tomorrow and they are far away; one in North Carolina, the other in Virginia. Some say it�s manic. Boils down to the conviction that I just can�t play by the rules so I play by my own, the ones developed for me. You can be you, and I�ll return to the safety of my workaholism and anti-socialism in both theory and praxis to make up for lost time. A lot of lost, wasted, pissed away time. Mania! I�m going to hire a professional to complete the bathroom. Budget is $7,000; prefer to have all work done for substantially less. Tomorrow morning I view the property to make my final decision; if the bid is accepted then I will become a landlord shortly. This means I can go Martha Stewart / Bob Vila on another structure and this thought pleases me immensely. As for the anti-Jason contingent who left sweetly endearing messages in my guestbook and email inbox, suck it. I suppose it�s less monstrous to simply hook up, have anonymous hot sex � the term is trick - and never see each other again until one bumps into the other and tries to place the vaguely familiar face as opposed to going on one date, talking on the phone for a total of 9 hours, and deciding it isn�t for me. And being honest about it. Well, hey, you all make the stable litter your bed and don�t forget to wash the taste of my jizz out of your mouth. Cold, cold, cold. Feels good to be me again.
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