Hopefully, the right person gets that inside joke. In a way that MySpace never could fulfill, I need a place to vent my thoughts without risk of seeming too "extreme." The person referenced above is the perfect outlet for that. My parents aren't going to know this exists; that's the main point. My girlfriend probably won't either, at least not for a very long time. That's the secondary point. The tertiary point? Michelle is amazing and I want a new way to interact with her. Although she seems to think that she can get anyone to fall in love with her. Right. All I did was trade ice cream for wacky mac. If that's love, then I'm in deep shit. Girlfriend. That's a funny word. Not as funny as fiance, but still. I don't have a fiance. It's funny that I feel content, or something like it, after I got cheated on. Last time, it pissed me off. Especially because Gabby Young used it as an excuse to break up with me. I still don't get how she got the upper hand in that relationship. Whatever. With Rayni, it's different. First of all, she didn't have sex with some other guy while holding off on me like Gabby did. Instead, she made out with someone and called me the next day to tell me. And in order to prevent it from happening again, she's moving down here to start school at SOCC. It also gives her a chance to gain freedom from want. If you know what that means. No, it's not sex. Freedom from want. That's all I want, ironically enough. I want a $15,000 loan that guarantees I'll never have to worry about paying for school again. It would also get me a really nice laptop that can do a hell of a lot more than this piece of shit hand me down. Like play WoW for five minutes without the framerate dropping down around 12 frames per second. Noah sits there on his Dell XPS pumping out a solid 70 FPS in the heat of battle with half of a 40-man raid on his screen and I'm lagging out when I pull aggro on too many mobs. You may be asking, why are you playing WoW, Shank? Isn't that for geeks who have money to blow? No, it's not. It's actually a lot more fun than I thought. It measures accomplishment, encourages interaction, and forces you to think to be successful, all for less than half the cost people pay to stare at the pretty box with all those fascinating colors and sounds. I noticed I haven't really been feeling much of anything besides a noticable lack of physical pain. It's not like my legs don't *want* to hurt. They want to hurt. They just don't, and I don't understand why. I stretch, I run, I lift, yet they still ache for more strain. Sometimes I think that if electricity were to shoot up from the floor and through all my limbs the release would be more enjoyable than an orgasm. Kind of like turning Super Saijen or something. Anyways, I think I'm finding that when I don't allow myself to feel anything at all I can pretend to be happy. It's a mask that fools the most perceptive among us. It's time for bed. I have practice at eight o' fucking clock in the morning. On a Saturday. I should be partying right now like all the other college kids, but *NO*. Sports are important or something. It's not like THAT's gonna pay for college. Peace to all.