Proofread 1996 Diary Entries – Mad Chaos: July 1, 1998

Proofreading 1996 Diary Entries

You know what else, the time is 12:26am and this legitimately means that today is within July.  There you have it, a month has passed and I have had great fun within it.  

I’m supposed to get to sleep early tonight so I can travel to the City tomorrow to listen to CDs for my next buy.  How long will I stay awake?

Right now I am listening to all my R&B CDs in sequence.  Still fixing up my months back in the day (back in 1996), I wonder what I was doing back then this exact day, the first day of July.  Well, as I keep working on fixing the months back then, I will keep myself posted and find out what I done today.  Actually, this is going to bother me so let me just whiz into that month and find out now.

Reading Back On 1997

Well, just reading upon July, two years ago, there wasn’t much happening.  Back in 1996 my mum was crazy waiting to be placed in a mental institute, Imad was fighting with Dina plotting to get even by cheating (what’s new) and I liked Tarina on that particular month.

This time last year, Lyssa and I planned a date in the City.  I’m not sure how that happened on a weekday because I was working back then, I think.  That was the day we looked at all the sites and then visited who I now know to be Carleigh that is going out with Kuper.  

That night Lyssa came over to my house.  For the first time in our relationship she gave me two hickeys.  Dawning to this day, I remember she wanted to sleep over that night, or at least it seemed, but that didn’t happen as her brother picked her up.  Amazing what you can find out when you read back.

Another pointer, the last day of June last year was the day that Lyssa stabbed me with her ring that had a moon on it.  From that day after drawing blood, I have kept the ring in a little jewelry box.  Not that it’s expensive but the significance is vital.  Lyssa was never for gold.  To this day, she still appreciates silver jewelry, a blessing on anyone’s pocket.

Reading Back On 1996

Two years ago, I definitely had a vivid infatuation with everyone that attracted me slightly.  Two days before June ended there was a party at Brodie’s house that I still remember details up until today.  

The party was going great.   I met a girl there called Mira that we traveled to McDonald’s to buy some food.  Being drunk, she told me she knew me from Olympus Gym.  Automatically, any male would think she was attracted, probably looking at my pulsating body under the weights I made look diminutive.

Seated in the back seat I was with her.  Inebriated as she was, she lay her head between my legs.  Once again that spells excitement to all.  But my problem was my perception of her attitude towards me.  I should have known (or know now), that hugging her was alright as a means of demonstrating my gratitude for fluctuating my pulse invariantly high and irregularly, but holding her hand was a negative factor, one that determined my position.  

Holding a girls hand if she really likes you is a good sign.  When they just want you, well, I could just hear Mina’s cerebral matter announcing “Oh my god, this guy is weird!  Get away from me,” striking me out almost as instantaneously as my hand approached hers.

God I’m on a role.  Listening to this soothing music releases my flare for wording, my inspiration to be creative and my thought.  Having written so much already, there must be no stopping me.  But, I still have some reading to do in my Diary.  Let me get back to it and once again, my creativity will get back to you.

Relive The Letter To Kathryn

Okay, for this part you may smirk, laugh or make fun of me but be warned, it was back in the day when I was a lost sole and was despairing with relationships and thought the more you had done in a relationship had to be better.  This doesn’t come as a surprise to me, but upon sending an eight-page letter, a tape and ‘Mariah Carey’ to Kathryn, I topped it off with a picture I took back in my bodybuilding days.  

So proud I was to take my shots posing in front of a camera with nothing but my underwear on.  

Consolidate and cunning thinking leads me to believe that Kathryn isn’t keeping my little picture a secret up there in her cow ridden Bundaberg.  I can only hope she hasn’t shown all her recent soul mates what a dick wad I was to give her all these things, an assorted package you might say.

Importantly, my hopes are that humiliation will be spared if Kathryn’s parents don’t come across my scenic picture at some point.  Lovely, just imagine their stunned faces when they realize that Kathryn, their unadulterated virgin daughter once had sex with this revealing chauvinist pig and pretentious wilderness animal.  

“What a perverted degenerate,” is what they must be contemplating.

A Love Or Lust Relationship 

Pondering about love tonight as I have been writing about it intuitively, I wonder if Lyssa and Jewell are just figments of lust in my reality.  

Who’s to say that when I’m finished with Lyssa and we are no longer talking with each other I will just think she was too emotional and she wasn’t my real love?

Who’s to say that my infatuation with Jewell isn’t just soul searching and in actuality is only an impractical way for myself to live in the past and feed off my emotions like mechanical clockwork?  

Is the opacity of Jewell dimming in my mind, or do my feelings rise and set like the sun shining brighter on most days than not?

Stealing Birthday Cards For Kathryn

Here’s another tidbit to add to my Diary.  Once again, concerning Kathryn, I just read that on one of the cards I sent to her I got her birthday wrong, after all that’s what the cards were all for.  You ask, why is there plurality in my sentence when I say, “I sent her cards.”  Well, I didn’t send her just one birthday card.  Please excuse my actions, but they are the extremity of my tasteless acts.  Who in their right mind would send four birthday cards to a girl they had only known intimately for a week?  That’s not the end of it.

Recession was so bad on me those days without a job that I thought I would get a kick out of stealing three of the cards, and I was successful.  Boy she must have thought I was an idiot and was regretting ever falling into my dull trap.  Seeing I was the most eager to court with her out of a group of seven or eight sweating males but indeed, the most adolescent minded sedating male I must have been.

How I can paint a picture now of a boy with simplicity in the light paint stroking and the remorseful detail and celebration surrounding every woman with a question mark adorning their heads.  As I read on in my literature two years in the past, let me try and better myself with insults towards myself.  It’s always good to laugh at yourself.  For this I need an audience to achieve the right ambience.

Dabbling With Loving Kathryn

The time is now 4:17am, so you can gather I have been intense in reading and manipulating past entries of my Diary.  

Another factor I found out and can rectify is the fact that I loved Kathryn.  Later in the month of September I think I finally came to my senses and took caution in what I spoke of my feelings.  Rather, I revealed that it was not love but I could not place a finger on the emotion.  

Funnily enough, from what I have read, Kathryn didn’t really find my package of gifts disturbing. Although she didn’t say more than a couple of words about them through the voice of Nina.

What I now recall is Kathryn sent me a good letter.  Then soon after that she sent me a bad letter.  I’m not sure if I wrote Kathryn another letter.  I can just imagine I sent her some more scriptures from me and to compensate for the mere fact that I didn’t send presents I wrote a dictionary of concise thoughts to her, probably doubling my previous letter, like the pyramid schemes so dreaded by today’s society.  All I can say is “God help the souls who fall under my spell, for I know no equilibrium that can stop the nature of my simplicity when it comes to devotion, or to an unsuspecting woman, sheer torture.”

Relive How Kathryn Sees Other People

I have always contested that Kathryn is a smart cookie and it is scary how she let me down on the phone one Sunday after she received my assortment of goodies.  With the precision of a ‘Demtel knife’, Kathryn informed me of her misdeeds back at home, as I anticipated her every sultry word.  Grief stricken, I didn’t see it coming, probably because I was seeing Kathryn through rose colored glasses, even though I done her within the first week and she was a virgin.

It Ain’t That Kinda Party

Flashback to the past…  As the night is getting tired and I still have some faith in my ability to produce some fine literature, let me just point out a factor of my past.  Back in the day, you would frequently hear me saying to people, “It ain’t that kinda party.”  Of course I got that off a black, comedy movie that I rented where the name escapes me now, something like “CB4”.  

That used to be my saying to everyone.  When I was asked to a nightclub I would reply, “It ain’t that kinda party”.  When I was offered a chance to give money I would announce, “It ain’t that kinda party”.

It certainly wasn’t that kind of party with most of the girls I liked.  They felt obliged to feel that way after my ludicrous attempts to mate.  I’m sure Kathryn was screaming “It ain’t that kind of party” off the rooftops when she received all my fan mail.

The Funky Town Rap Song

How about this for a new song.  Apart from the ‘Funky Town’ flick that Ralf made so popular with me, how about a song that plights good against the alternate.  What I mean is have a song with a strong rapping beat start.  After an intro someone starts rapping.  Words don’t have to be exact to my specifications but have the rapper speak of why you treat your woman so respectful; you should treat her rough not smooth.  

When the rapping is finished another verse breaks in but this time with the smooth voice of a singer detailing how smooth is better than rough, and why.  

The chorus will probably entail plenty of singers in unison and rapping in the midst of the background.  Of course, the bridge will consist of rapping.  All up, this could make a good song.

That is all I have to say for tonight.  Now I must set the alarm and pray that I wake up tomorrow and explore the musical domain.  Hey, I might even buy the Trading Post in search of some items.  For now, I will read this passage before going to sleep, as it is a must I study my true potential in writing and learning to understand my capacity to turn women off faster than athlete’s foot fungus, that is off course if they are the right type of woman.  See you next month.