J’s Diary Entry

Sun 12 Mar 1995

I’ve spent far too much time watching television today, channel surfing in the hope that five channels of mediocrity will be less stultifying if viewed in seven second slices. I cooked a meal, read a bit more Voltaire, did some washing and ignored the phone’s muted, mulish ring. I wouldn’t mind talking to Josh, but don’t want to run the risk of speaking to Leah or Brett. Defrosted the freezer too. A thrill a minute.

I’ve decided to cut and bleach my hair. I want it chunky, in different lengths between 1½ inches and 3 inches.

I tried to take this rune ring off my middle finger, but it wouldn’t come off and it cut into the skin. I’ll have to lose some weight and bide my time ’til Winter when my fingers wont be so swollen. God I’m so dull.

Spent a lot of time on the couch plucking out body hairs one by one with the tweezers. It’s a fucking strange habit, but it passes the time.

I’ve gone from telling myself that I will never allow myself another relationship, to wondering if it’s even possible anymore. The image of Leah and I together is incrementally receding and is now almost completely obscured by my driven self-loathing. I have changed since then. I wonder if all it would take is for someone else to come along and “make me whole again”. Am I so reliant upon others that I can’t even function adequately on a personal level without an audience?

Perhaps I’m being too hard on myself for rejecting the company of Leah, Brett and Josh. Maybe it’s just them I’m rejecting and not the whole world. After all, I pursue Cav’s company with an almost unbridled ardor. But to contradict myself, I did flee “The Lounge” on Friday night because of Donovan introducing me to that girl. For some reason, the image of Kara from the Croissant Connection keeps springing to mind.  Simon has been teasing me about her ever since.  I blushed horribly in front of her with Cav present.  Our eyes met a few times on Friday night at Klicks, I’m so humiliated, I wish she would just disappear. I kind of like her but it’s public knowledge now, and I could never act on it.

Why do I unceasingly make things difficult for myself?  Secretly, I’m hoping she’ll be bewitched by me after my haircut, and I’ll be able to ignore her, gloriously.  It’s so childish and petty.

Photo of J before he cut it (I’ve applied a filter)

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