Afternoon of the Beastmaster; On Diary Reading in the Late Night

It is a dreary early winter Saturday afternoon. Not a glint of the sun today. So I'm sitting on the couch basking in the glow of The Beastmaker on WB. Shakespeare it's not. But with a body like his who cares. The actor is not pretty or cute in a Brad Pitt kind of way but very masculine and appealing. He has the sleek muscularity of a leopard rather than the bulked-up look of a footballer. And his friend, Tao, has a puckish kind of charm.

Last night, I read a number of familiar diaries and glanced at some new ones. But after about an hour, I had to stop because I was so depressed by the experience. Everyone was talking about relationships, upcoming trips, holiday vacations, exotic plans for the new year, etc. It was not so much that I was jealous as I was envious. I felt like a chimneysweep with his nose pressed up against some virtual window watching the dandies at play. Everyone seems to be having a lot more fun than I am.

I'm far too inhibited for my own good. Aloof and detached. But then these are defense mechanisms that have proved useful. So there is a real paradox in letting go. And at the same time, I never have any idea what it is I really want. It is has been a long time since I felt any compelling reason to chase after someone. I don't even like to think of the number of times I have pursued someone, who I was sure was going to bring me happiness, only to be rejected. Which made me feel like a total jerk for not realizing the situation. Which makes me more depressed. Ah! Crap!!!!

PAX!