No, no, no

It's interesting to note, while I am chatting it up to a certain fella that will be reading this and telling me about it later (considering himself a creep in the process, but still keeps reading - which is amusing, Sr. Miguel - to say it's creepy but to swallow all creepiness by informing me that you are, indeed, reading), that sometimes we connect with people, and we're not really sure why. But sooner or later all these rubberband balls will bounce, the meatball will fall to the floor, the snowflake will snowball. That's a lotta balls, people, and...

to skip through the muck and make a long story very short, my apprehension about life events is jilting, it's crushing, and it's suffocating. But the alternative is poison, I swear, so how can I actually follow through with obligation? Get a job, stay in school, visit the folks back home... can I possibly add more to this? Can I possibly keep having the same conversation with different people?

I feel nauseous. And apparently, very cryptic.

Philosophy's Soul Owner comes with the following printed on its face (all in lowercase for reasons explained here): "let's review your only true assets. you own your values, your integrity, your thoughts, your words, your actions and therefore, your destiny. question: are you proud of what you own? what is your true net worth to the world and the people around you? are you really rich or do you just have money?"

Now. If this resonates with you - wait, better question: when you read this and you really sit and think about it, whilst standing (thus making that "sit and think" cliche obsolete) in the bathroom, brushing your teeth, trying to get the hell out of the apartment to make it to class on time... you may just be suffering from the same existential crisis I am suffering from. I beg of you. Look away from the foot cream. Just spit, rinse, and be on your way.

2005-05-04 | 4:10 p.m.

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