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Tale of the Glass Faces pt 1
2001-12-16 - 9:42 p.m.


before/after
strangely non-functional guestbook

I hate seeing through people when I want to see them as the people they can be.

Good friend flew into town this weekend.

I'd like to say it was a good time.

Went to the bar on friday, flirted a little bit.  My attitude has changed.  Sometimes I like to think I may yet become the guy I wanted to be.

Do I still want to be this guy?  Fuck, who cares.  As long as I complete and accomplish something.

I saw through everyone this weekend.  It was so disappointing.

I've tried to hide it from my childlike eyes for so long, but it came burning through.  These people are not as they seem.  All their flaws carried on their glass faces, their minds churning with lightning bolts, their plans plain for my perusal.

Their petty judgments and insecurities.  Their problems and accusations.

Fuck.  Its like waking up in a shit factory, and not knowing how I got there.  Swore I'd never do that again after I quit social work.

Wives lustful wandering eyes.  Men with knives waiting for the back to be turned.

Who can you trust when you are surrounded by glass faces and snakes for feet.  The slithering is remarkable and keeps me awake at night.

A cute blonde bought a drink next to me.

a:"Is all of that for you?"

cb:"This is for meeee....and this is for my (pause) friend."

The cute bartender with whom I flirt with on occaison gave me a beer, and she some change.

both:"Thanks, sweetie."

She was older than I by a bit.  Lights and make up are deceiving.  Late thirties?  More so?  So tough to say in this day and age.

I really don't care, on a level only the truly screwed can appreciate.

cb:"We both said, 'thanks sweetie."

a:"Yeah, it was cute."

cb:"What about you?  Where are your friends?"

a:"I don't have any friends."

I suppose it would be elucidating to report that I was leaning on the corner of the bar, next to a clutch of people I nominally call my friends.  Glass faces and all.

cb:"You don't have any friends?"

a:"Well, I couldn't make the monthly nut, so...they all left me."

At this point she started going off, and gesturing wildly at the people next to me, who I truly only knew by name.

cb:"What about these people right here?!  What about them?"

people at bar:"Hey!  Hi!!!"

cb:"He's telling me he HAS no friends, and here you all are.  Here he is LYING to me."

a: crooks finger into mouth and stares innocently at the ceiling

cb:"He's LYING to me."

a: makes gesture like 'I don't know what the fuck she's talking about' to people at the bar.

cb:"You're lying to me."

a:"It was just a jo-oke."

cb:"Okay, lets ask YOUR FRIENDS, if they will take a picture of us."

a:"Okay"

She snuggled in close and groped me freely.  I did the same.  Felt a powerful urge to feel her breasts (they were so nice and perky!  Full!  Luscious!  But I digress...), but managed to control myself.

They took two pictures.  In one, I did my standard faraway gaze that people tend to project their own emotions on, for whatever reason.  We probably looked good together.

Like I said.  Who cares.

I talked to a bunch of girls that night.  Tried to pass myself off as a muslim fundamentalist.

girl:"You're a WHAT?"

a:"Muslim fundamentalist.  The turban is at the cleaners.  I only have one."

Anything to kill the time before I die.  Unfortunately I am young and this will take awhile.

 


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