my show was about to end and i was heading for bed. the phone rang. i called my mom in because it’s always for her and i couldn’t get up from exhaustion. so she answered it. the one time. the one time i didn’t answer it was for me. russ needed i ride. so i got in my car and went to get him. we came home and watched future-rama, simpsons, and malcom. recorded from last night. i took him home and decided i was going to come home and go to bed. then thought to myself ‘do i have something i need to write?’ no. i didn’t. but i do. today was a draining day. i am tired. not sleepy. tired. i am emotionally drained. i watch other guys talk to girls. i think of how i should approach a girl. strike up a good conversation. but i can’t think of a way to start one. and by the time i do they’ve already jumped on the bus. then it comes to me. i won’t. it’s not me.

tonight i was sitting watching tv and got choked up over some tv show. i’m not a wussy guy. but i do keep a thin layer of masculinity. i know that when i cry at times like that. i’m due for a good hard one. somebody mail me and make me weep. that’s what i want. or something else. pedro is friday. maybe i’ll cry there.

adam.

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