. . .like writing in this at the moment, I wonder what the facination is with this particular site at the moment. Dancing on the edge of a homicidal fit, I wonder what the point is. Why do I make the effort to change, who do I change for? At the moment their is no one in my life who would ask me to change, except myself. Am I even still changing? My mind does not feel much different than it did two-years ago, before a gaggle of women came through my life and turned me into a frightened, apathetic, pot-head. Now I have stopped the smoking, stopped the apathy, and stopped being afraid of people, and yet I still feel like something is missing. I know that with the drastic change my body has gone through in the past year it is going to take me some time to get used to it, but I feel that can not be used as an excuse. My body never really mattered to me before, and why does it matter now? Because I lost 60 pounds of fat? Why should I really care? I must admit it is nice to see a lustful look in a women's eye occassionally, and that certainly happens much more now-a-days, but do I really care for those looks? They are most certainly based entirely on physical appearence, so do I slap myself on the back for a great reinvention, or do I cast them a malicful look and tell them to eat a dick? I have always had the ability to turn most men away from me with what amounts to powerful eye contact, submission from even the all feared "jocks (God will I ever stop using that stupid fucking word)" in literaly the blink of an eye. I still have no clue about my place with women, I know that I am content to know them, and nothing more. I treat most relationships the same; as a learning opportunity, a chance to get to know someone new. A chance to meet someone and truly connect, whether it be physically, emotionally, philosophically (sp?), or just playfully. I don't think I could handle all the issues that come along with an actual boyfriend-girlfriend relationship at the moment, but something would be nice I think. I suppose most of this shit needed to be put down somewhere, and where better than here? These silly stream-of-consciousness rants, will probably get old after a while, but who knows? My mind goes pretty deep, and has been a long while since I rooted around and did some real house cleaning, so for now I will right my ridiculous tales of distress, because while I sit here spitting up the words the voice in my head tells me to write, all I have to do is remember that; this time the voice is mine. Thank the gods for that.