By Anon.
Date: 28 February 1998

The real after.

So I'm here at this web site, almost a full year after the first time I 
sumitted my first bit of jibberish.

Nothing much has changed, I must say. Once again, I'm looking right into the
gaping maw of another failed attempt at connection.

The thing is, this time I really believed there was a difference. My "feelings"
were saying that I could finally go the long haul, and I'm talking more than 
like six months here. I wanted to. I was ready. To stop screwing around, and I 
that litterally. Like no more loveless sex with the next gal in line.

But as it happens, the hammer I thought was hitting me over the head was 
breaking my spine. I thought one form of signal and it was really another. 
Saying, "you can't do this. I'm going to bring you down again. I'm going
to show you that this is impossible."

Well, you'd believe after seeing your proverbial crushed skull. I believe 
now. And I'm not talking about what the Monkeys were singing about. I don't
believe in some perverted everlastingness with the big L label. The thing
that has my faith is statistics. I just happen to be radically different, and
therefore can never find a real love.

You ever seen that Bugs Bunny episode, where he accidentally climbs into this 
rocket that's perched right over his hole? He's looking at all the complex 
instruments and has no clue. Then mission control says,"This is mission control,
is everything go?"

"No,..... everything is kinda ..... stop"

Everything is kinda stop for me to.