I wish I could ask you.

“Why so distant?”

I mean, it’s not like I’ve got any bad intentions… And if there’s any misconceptions about what I might think of you, or you worry about how I see things (you in particular) you could just ask me?
I just think you’re a deeply interesting person and something good could come out of a bond between us.

But this is what I think.

That’s the problem with “I.”

It’s a lonely, lonely word…

After all, I could be getting ahead of myself here.

Perhaps you really just do not care?

Whatever it is…

I think you’re wonderful.

And I wish you knew I thought so.

Granted, we don’t talk much anyway… And I always seem to fall short when I try.
Such are the things that pain me.

Remarks aside…

(nonexistent) readership;
How goes it?

Canis domini.

So I’ve been thinking lately.
(wait. i’m always thinking.)

(what am i talking about?)

My writer’s block. It pains me so…

As of the moment, I am holed up in my room; my only companions a pack of Strawberry Oreos (which are going fast) and a glass of water.

And what I am doing?

Racking my brains.

Feeling anguish because I know.

I know that I have so much to write.
So much to say.

But also because I know I cannot make the successful transfer of thought to coherent writing.

Canis domini…
Dog of God.

Why this term?

Hmm.

Perhaps this is what I feel towards my “superiors” at school.

Selflessly throwing their lives at the feet of their God.

Henceforth; merely Canis Domini.

Dogs of God, the lot of them.
(come on, i’ve got Holdsworth running in the background… don’t lose it, Julio. don’t.)

Which raises the question.

Why? Or.
How?

I will never understand how they can selflessly commit to blind faith, of all things.

But then, I am a “heathen.”

Heathen never understand.
Always doomed to wander around aimlessly and douse themselves in Godless sin and so on and so forth…

I’m finding it exceedingly difficult.
Getting by in school.

At least on an emotional level.

But…

But then I have a lot of things to cheer me up.

So.

Talk to myself more, shall I?

Hmm…

No, nevermind.

My brain’s still reeling in ennui.

Maybe later?

either way.

I’m done, for the time being.

Later, folks.

(i cannot begin to express how thankful I am for Allan Holdsworth’s music.)

Merely sharing.

I am deeply amazed.

Racial prejudices.

I came across something earlier.
A complaint about this racist fuck over on Urbandictionary badmouthing the Filipinos or some such gamut.

Normally, I let these kinds of things slide, but then I had to say something about it this time.

I’m no authority on racism or its “economics,” but then there just seems to be some kind of negative racial stereotype for every single nationality.

That Koreans are communist.
Americans are obese idiots.
African-Americans are violent thugs.
Filipinos are leeches holding onto the US.
Japan is full of weirdos in the worst sense.
Africans are poor and dying.
Should I continue?

No.

All of the above was fucking insensitive, and I meant none of it.

Which raises the question:

Why does racism exist?
This question makes more sense if you remove all the frills.

If you ask on the single, most base level, completely regardless of anything one race might be accountable for…

Then what does it come down to?

Xenophobia?
Selfishness?

I often wonder why so much discontent needs to exist.

The justification I’d brewed for myself was;
“Without a negative concept, a positive concept cannot exist… Because then it would simply be. But to be is not always mean.”

Or some such thing.

I’m not trying to prove any points.

I’m simply asking why all this bullshit has to go down every single fucking day.

I think xenophobia is unfounded.

Racism is such a fucking waste of time.

If you’ve met exponents of a certain race that present them in a bad light, then remember this:
Just because one person of white/black/yellow/brown/et al skin is a fucktard, doesn’t mean that the other million with the same skin color are going to be the same affair.

That’s generalizing and being narrow-minded at the same goddamn time.

And if your excuse is “well a potatofucker killed my mother” or some such thing along those lines, the above still applies.

Hate him, by all means.
But do not count the rest of his kin in your absolution.

But then…

This is just another one of my frustrations.

Another one of my issues.

Suddenly, I am disheartened to continue.

I do not see the point.

What difference does my opinion make?

I’m just someone who wishes well.

Until the racist segment of this planet realizes that their hate on another race is completely unfounded, I’ll harbor these wishes of betterment.

Humans are humans, regardless of country, culture, or skin color.

Anyway.

Enough of my talk.

I’m off.

Another footnote.

Wanderlust.

So much time spent on trying to recall that damn word.

Wanderlust.

The word alone sounds ineffably correct.

So.
I have wanderlust.

Today.
Today was.

Alright.

Definitely had worse days, no doubt.

Watched Lars Von Trier’s Antichrist.

Got to me on a rather deep level.

Disturbing is the key term.

A great film?
Definitely.

But, to reiterate;
disturbing.

What else might bother me today?

Lately, I’ve been having a lot of difficulty writing.

My sense of balance feels somewhat upset.

But then I’m not wholly sure about that.

Isn’t this whole affair just so tumultuous and confusing?

Nonetheless, I must trudge on.

Still have some homework to do…

And I am deeply surprised that I typed that out.