((***First, I would like to say, that I honestly believe that my journal should be viewed by MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY - because, if you're offended by profanity, sexual content, graphic details, violence, or any taboo subjects, then you really shouldn't be reading this. Really.***)) I'm new at this whole ... journal ... thing. So bear with me. A couple friends had online journals, so the people far away can keep tabs on them - so I've been thinking on doing this for a while - but being the shy guy that I am, I haven't really had the guts to do it. So I'm talking to my best friend, Melissa, (whom you, the reader, will come to know and love and cherish and worship as I do) and she thinks that having an online journal might actually be a good thing for me. I mean, I don't get out much anymore - not that I got out much to begin with - and it might actually be helpful, like therapy or something. Why, you ask, can telling strangers about my fucked up life be considered therapy? Why don't you ask every other psychiatrist, psychologist, therapist in this fucking world? See what I'm getting at? Anyway, Melissa has this convincing idea that perhaps this online journal thing can help me with my dreams. You see, I have these really messed-up dreams. Really messed up. Maybe by telling people about them, I can get it all off of my chest and maybe get interpretations and opinions from other people. It actually makes a lot of sense - but then, I don't know how many serious people will be reading this, so, I'll cross my fingers and hope for a good, helpful comment every now and then. But no dreams for this post, you see. I don't - well, uhm, this is just a "getting to know you" entry - you know, like the King and I ... "Yes, Your Majesty! No, Your Majesty! Tell us how LOW to GO, Your Majesty!" Just a little humor there. Anyway ... uhm, getting to know me and all that ... suppose we could start with the basics, right? I'm a DJ - yes, a DJ, like for a radio station, you know? For the local rock station - "Owensboro's ... best ... ROCK" and all. Just happens to be on the same street I live on. Geography can be fun, you know? Before you ask, the disc jockey's life really isn't all that exciting and glamorous - I mean, I don't get paid a lot, you know? But it is fun - I mean, I get fame by people just listening to my voice and choice in music - and all I have to do is talk to people on the phone, change CD's, sit in a padded room and push a lot of buttons. I sound like a 12-year-old kid anyway. I just turned 21 on May 3rd, a monumental event, I assure. I don't feel any different, I mean, I don't see what the big deal is. I go to a private school called Kentucky Wesleyan College - and you're probably wondering, those of you who know this school - what the fuck is my Pagan ass doing in a Methodist college? Well, I have the answer to that. Money. Yes, they're giving me a shitload of financial aid to go there. Almost a full ride - how's that for exciting? Double-majoring in Elementary Ed and Fine Arts - so I'll be here for a while longer. But why Owensboro? Would anyone like me want to be in Owensboring, KY, the bar-be-que capital of the world, full of hypocritcal, close-minded bastards spread throughout the community? Honestly? My friends. As much of a hell hole that I feel this place is, my friends make it all worthwhile; they make up for EVERYTHING wrong in my life just by being there. And that's all I need. But then there's the occasional online friend, like Lindsay (whom you will also come to know and love and honor and adore and worship as I do), who make me wish I was anywhere BUT here - or that they were here with me. Since this is just the "getting to know you entry," and no dream analysis today, I guess I'll continue on with the basics. What do I look like? How much more general can you get? I've been asked a few times on the air, and I'm actually honest about it. It's kind of difficult to lie on the phone, saying you're a bulky, 6'5", muscular, toned and tanned guy ... when you sound like you're twelve, you know? So, honestly? I'm a small, yes, VERY SMALL guy - skinny little pale thing - 5'4" and three quarters. Go ahead and laugh it up. My hair is dark, dark brown - and not black, as many peers would argue - it's brown, I say! My eyes are green, yes green ... and I don't see many dark-haired, green-eyed people, you know? Makes me kind of feel like a freak. But yeah, they're green, like Kaori Yuki's Earl Cain ... only without the whole incest thing. Uhm .. hrm ... yeah, I look like a girl. And I get that a lot. A while ago, someone actually said I looked like Julia Volkova - and I was like "Hello! No! Do I have boobs and give concerts in my underwear? I don't THINK so!" So I cut my hair about a week later. Now I can't chew on it anymore ... and it's driving me mad. I've resorted to knuckle-chewing. AND BEFORE YOU ASK- And I know that some of you are WONDERING - No, I'm NOT gay, I'm not straight, and I detest being called bisexual. I don't condone these lifestyles at all, I swear I don't - I just hate being classified that way. I'll think of a name for what I am, eventually. I'm thinking "Jenavorsu" or something - but I believe that love is love is love is love, it doesn't have boundaries, you know? Not age, gender, ethnicity, culture, etc - it doesn't matter to me. It still exists. Now love and lust are two different things for me. If you can find someone that you're truly in love with, and yet can still carry some sort of lustful relationship with them - then good for you! I'm happy for you. Get married. I do plan on being a daddy someday. I do. And I plan on having both myself and the mother in the child's life - unless it's an adoption ... which it probably will be, considering I'm so painstakingly shy that intimacy and sex scare me, and seem like a near impossibility because I'm just so - I don't know. Afraid of sexual contact, perhaps? I'll explain that in a later entry - maybe. Can I just make a little side note here for the "religious nuts" just for a moment? I can, can't I? I mean, this is my journal, right? Okay ... for the bible-humpers out there: "Don't. Just stop. Don't bother. You'd be wasting your time if you commented on this journal in anyway, trying to witness to me. I know, you're supposed to do that, it's your job as the bible tells you. But you know what? Telling someone that he's going to Hell doesn't work when they don't read or follow, much less believe in that book, you know? Any comments spouting off verses or trying to convert me in anyway, will be ignored. Why, do you ask? Because I'm sick of it. Just sick of it. I need a break, just for one year, from people saving my Wiccan soul from eternal Damnation. Thank you and have a nice afterlife." And ... I guess that's that. If I think of anything else that I left out, I guess I'll talk about it in later entries. Contrary to what this entry might suggest, I'm actually a very shy and vulnerable guy ... really, I am. You can ask anyone who knows me. The next entry should hold a dream recollection - that is, if I can remember it. And I hope I do. I seem to be forgetting my dreams more often lately - which isn't good, I don't think - but then, I've been having deja vu enough to make up for it. Hopefully, some real dreams will be posted soon.