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Will

July 1998

Monday, June 15, 1998.

Everything seems odd today. Somehow really deep. Like when you wake up after a long night involving various illegal oddities and amusements and have the feeling you're in the center of the universe. Everything drowns into your torso and you're not sure if you're really alive or if the entire state of reality exists in a fucked up dream and you'll awake to find the radio going off and your homework lying amongst candy boxes and coke cans.

I'm not sure about today. It's strange. Very strange. 2:22 a.m. is a queer time to be thinking about various shit. My cat. Smoking. Stars. Crickets. Why my hand is placed precariously in front of my face as if staged for someone to watch. I've been thinking too much lately. Of what, I'm not sure.

Something has changed me. I'm not sure if it's good or bad yet, but it's there. I feel more psychotic. More paranoid. Somewhat more violent, but it's yet to bring about anything but odd little thoughts about how certain people should die. Math.

Sometimes I lie in my bed wondering if there really is a god. Or gods. I mean, how could two molecules put together at one perfect little time make life? It sounds out and out stupid to me. But that's just me. And I'm fucked up. So don't worry yourselves.

Tomorrow's my birthday. Whoopee. At least I'll be getting money. That'll be a nice change. And a driver's license. I think this month or the last is my one year anniversary writing for Oasis. My columns have changed quite a bit. I started out sounding sickeningly perky. I'm not sure how these past few have sounded. Not perky, though. For some odd reasons, my columns never represent who I actually am or seem to be. This is my way of getting rid of all the little bad things which haunt me. It's a release from all the shit I take from everyone and cover up with smiles, etc.

These sentences seem very erratic, but I don't think I'm going to go through and create some sort of flow. They represent my raw thoughts at this very moment. And that's how I think this column should be. I need to put in a new CD. This one is starting to annoy me. Back. I brought the Smashing Pumpkins' newest release "Adore". I got tickets to their July 12 concert in Houston, so I'm happy. They sold out in about five minutes. I went to Ticketmaster with my friend "B", who I came out to a few weeks ago, at about 7 a.m.

We went up to the doors, and this bitchy biker lady wearing tight jeans and a "Hard Rock Cafe" T-shirt started ranting about how we weren't going to get our tickets before her, because she'd been waiting since 6 a.m. In order to arouse some sort of mirth, I decided to take a short cut inside Foley's and run to the Ticketmaster booth. Of course, I arrived before her and her small army of two other odd looking people. The second she saw B and I, her eyes filled with rage and she started bitching at the lady not to sell us tickets before her, as she had been waiting since 6 a.m. The lady didn't listen. It was glorious. Fucking with people is one of the few things that brings joy to my life. Along with kitties. And ice-cream.

I got into another wonderful fight with my mom about the aptly titled "gay thing". She was browsing my history folder and ran across the link to Oasis. Although I continue to tell her I felt I was gay two years before we got AOL, she still refuses to believe that the Internet is not the reason I am the way I am. She also believes that "if you suppress these unacceptable thoughts and feelings and pray twice a day, God will free you from them!". Hmm. Sounds like someone's been dipping into the Exodus International websites.

I guess I'm at the end of this column. Anything else I put from here on will probably make little or no sense, so I'll leave it at this. By the by, I'm NOT on something right now. Hehehe. E-mail me if you're on the same wave or something. Or if you're cute.

Will (atariqueer@hotmail.com)


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