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if holden caulfield is real and is living, if he chanced upon me, he'd beat the shit out of me and kill me with his bare fists. i am a fake. i love everything and anything anglo, thinks and act like i'm anglo when i'm actually not. i worship another race because i think my own race is incompetent and impotent when i might actually be more incompetent and impotent than they are. which makes me, as holden caulfield would have put it, a phony. a first-class, gold-plated, honey-brazen phony.

:):):)

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Saturday, July 26, 2008
it's sad when things don't work out the way you expected it to be. even when you're not directly involved in the situation, you can't help but feel a little bit sad. that's the thing about rooting for someone who's pursuing a relationship. and when it fails, us male species make such bad advice-givers and listeners, really bad confidants, that we can only respond with a mere, "i feel you, man. i really do." then comes the helpless feeling when you see your mate all down, you thinking what you should be doing or saying to him, maybe a hug or a pat but then you retract back because you think it'd be gay and all. the thing that happened last week was something new for me. simply because i was quite close to both parties and i was hoping that they would last. but they didn't.

after what happened, i've learned to appreciate :):):) more.

to char: eat more. binge and binge and binge, i don't care. you look better with more meat on you.


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