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Monday, February 18th, 2008
7:30 pm
¶ It has been a very long time, indeed.

¶ Ask if I am friend or Foe. Chances are I am neither.

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Monday, January 28th, 2002
11:47 pm
Ellen is standing over my shoulder as I type. I find this all highly ridiculous. Her arms are crossed, her foot is tapping, and she is wearing a look of impatience. With that in mind, I type this. Ellen says that there is hardly any excuse for disappearing from the world, and that there are people somewhere who worry. I, of course, inform her that she is still as impetuous as ever.

We go for walks, Ellen and I, and I still wish to push her in the river. She still carries books that she never reads, and wears her hair in braids. She has become a great deal more loquacious and opinionated, doling out advice all the time. This I attribute to her inner demons and mental strife, and make a resolution to humor her.

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Monday, November 26th, 2001
8:30 am

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Tuesday, May 1st, 2001
12:00 am - Which Three Words
Happy Birthday Calais


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Friday, April 20th, 2001
2:00 am - Two are playing at this game
Why don't you try telling me the truth.

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Thursday, April 19th, 2001
6:00 pm
I refuse to play these games anymore. There are too many words that have been kept from me. I lack the know-how to remain where I am.

This past week has been too much for me. I am just going to sit in my room and forget that the outside world exists.

I cannot do this anymore.

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Monday, April 9th, 2001
12:00 am
That creature is a constant mystery to me. I cannot fathom how she even came into being. Yet, there she is, time and time again, standing before me. I begin to wonder how it is that I managed along before she appeared.

This is all highly ridiculous. I do not feel myself at all these days. I have lost track of a great deal of time. I have not seen Ellen in far too long, which at times becomes troublesome. Although, I admit for my compulsions to kick her in the shins to make her quiet, and her plainness, she is nonetheless something to keep in contact with.

I do not feel as though I am myself anymore. I do not even notice when they are arguing down there anymore. I am under the impression that something is underway.

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Friday, April 6th, 2001
3:00 am
I have been losing track of what day it is.

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Thursday, March 29th, 2001
11:00 pm
At times this place disgusts me. Livejournal lackeys are indeed a strange breed. The time they take to monitor and control their intake and outtake of friends on their lists. I wonder what happened to keeping a journal for the sake of keeping one. Disgust is far too strong a word, perhaps it just makes me grin to myself.
Ellen is at odd sorts today. The illustrious M paid her a visit. He somehow managed to sneak in and out of town without my having encountered him. I still am under the impression that she has completely fabricated him. Of course, Calais had the honor of making is acquaintance.
Calais worries me. She disappears at odd times, only to resurface days later. I wonder what takes her away. Ellen tells me that it is just her way. When Ellen entreats me to such displays of her wisdom I am reminded of how ridiculous she is.
I really do not know where that creature has disappeared to now. She has previously mentioned something about visiting home. I wish she would tell me where she goes. If she has gone home, I would have like to have told her that she need not return alone.
This is all utter nonsense. It is raining tonight, and I have never liked the rain much. Ellen is too messy tonight to be of any company. My dreams have been returning. George is haunting me again. They are arguing again over the draperies. I wonder if I will ever find peace.

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Saturday, March 10th, 2001
7:00 pm
For the greater portion of today I have been at odds with myself. Just as I have come to Calais with troubled sleep, Calais has come to me with past stories of her own. Often, she has spoke of a fellow named Andrew.
I am to go meet Ellen and that creature now, so I will abruptly end here. It is a cold night tonight, and I think the moon is certain to be full. I used to think, not too long ago, that the moon meant something. I could never figure out what.
Pardon my abruptness, I have now left for the evening.

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Thursday, March 8th, 2001
11:00 pm
� Today I am restless. Ellen and I went to the caf�. I am reminded of previous months when this is how we would pass our days. Ellen has abandoned talking about her fingernails. Ellen talks all the time about this fellow.
� I dreamt about George again. We were walking away from the city. He was trying again to get me to follow him to the river. In my dreams of George I always remind him that he is not here anymore. I remember the sidewalks being covered in rust.
� Calais is asleep. She leads me to believe that she is always asleep. I am becoming increasingly surprised by how new situations seem like they have been happening forever.

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Monday, March 5th, 2001
9:00 pm
Today that creature dragged me into the snow for a walk. Sometimes I think that she must be some variation of evil. We walk by the river and I am reminded of the walks that Ellen and I used to take. I wonder, still, what would have happened if I pushed her in. Ah, poor Ellen. I am be encouraged to exercise nicer tendencies towards her. I still have to stifle my thoughts of wanting to kick her when she starts babbling.
She is much quieter these days, except for when speaking with Calais.
Later, in the afternoon, I braved both Ellen and the weather again to sit in the coffee shop. Ellen no longer ogles the boys there.
I have been dreaming about George again. It is most disturbing when this happens. Calais encourages me to wake her up more often when it happens, but I would much rather she slept. There is something in her sleep that I may never have.
It is still snowing outside.

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Sunday, March 4th, 2001
4:00 pm
� Today it is snowing. When I was younger I would hide from the snow. The snow would make me want to break things. I entertain the thought, still, of what would happen if I just gave in and screamed at them. Similar to the days when it rained I would retreat to a windowless room. They would argue, then, even about the snow.
� The illustrious Ellen has neglected to grace us with her presence for quite some time. Today Ellen and Calais visited for a bit. The two proceeded to laugh at my expense for the greater portion of the afternoon. I paid little attention.
� Ellen is still much the same. Her week leave neither altered her plainness nor her babbling. Ellen and Calais spoke for hours about some fellow named M. I am skeptical as to whether or not this fellow really exists. I am under the impression that he is a ploy. A ruse made up by Ellen to make herself seem more interesting.
� Ellen left several hours ago. Calais is now poking me in the side threatening me to be nice to dear Ellen, or else. I am tempted to ask her: Or else, what? But since she has just read this over my shoulder, she will entertain me with an answer.
� There are very few ways to keep this creature quiet. I know of only one.

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Saturday, March 3rd, 2001
1:00 am
It rained for the greater portion of the day. I was to meet Ellen and the Pretentious Wretch at some bookstore today.
Ellen is preoccupied lately with her own inner workings. Our paths are reluctant to cross. But I find myself somewhat preoccupied as well.
She decided to cancel. Since the bookstore had been her meeting place of choice, Calais and I made a resolution to spend the rainy afternoon indoors.
I used to sleep through days that resembled this. I would shut myself into the windowless room, close my eyes, and close out the outdoors.
Calais dragged me to the window to watch the rain. She threatens to make me walk in the rain with her. For once that creature was quiet and not trying to engage me in conversation about Borges, or Ezra Pound.
It is still raining. Calais has fallen asleep on the sofa (the sofa that took them five arguments and the greater portion of February to agree upon). Strewn about the room are the remnants of a sarcastic pancake battle.
Calais formed a lopsided universe out of batter. I assured her that it was just a pancake, and bit a hole through Nebraska.

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Thursday, March 1st, 2001
7:00 pm
It is now March, and although I had much thought that February dreadful, I have been led to reevaluate this past month. I am convinced that it was not a February at all, but perhaps it has been March already.
Ellen had some family gathering to attend to, so Calais and I sat at Caf Felix listening to the Jazz Band. Calais was babbling about Death and the Compass.
Her eyebrows have a funny way of moving up and down whenever she is speaking. Without Ellen there I am left to speak more than I normally would choose to. Somewhere in between the first and second crime I kissed her.

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Saturday, February 10th, 2001
10:00 pm
I have been spending an increasing amount of time with the Pretentious Wretch. Nothing of consequence happens, but the time does pass. Therein lies the importance of the day; making the time pass. Indeed, she is a headless creature. Quite often Ellen and Her get along famously.
I have been sleeping through the night more often. This is always a pleasantry that I am not always allowed. I attribute this to my recent gallivanting about.
There is little point in saying any more right now.

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Friday, February 2nd, 2001
11:00 am
Today I awoke to the sound of yelling. They did not wait for the week to come to a close before recommencing. They have now moved onto the flatware. I am nearly positive next that they will be arguing over the chaise lounge.
Ellen is away for the day, and I am to go meet Calais at some bookstore. This, no doubt, will pass the time.
On some days I feel compelled to come to my own defense, but not today. I encourage you, reader, to pass judgments upon my judgments--but note this, that you are lacking the crucial elements of why.
Today I will go back to sleep for a while longer. I am unaware of the sunshine.

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Thursday, February 1st, 2001
1:00 am
It is February. I apologize for stating the obvious. The most that February signifies is that January is over. I cannot imagine why anyone would want to remain in such a dreadful month--only to say that I would rather it be January than Decembre.
Ellen has returned. She has proclaimed me an idiot for my earlier endeavors here. We went to the coffee shop, where Calais works. Ellen profusely apologized to her for my behavior. I do believe they will get along famously. Perhaps I will find some quiet now.
Such periods of absence from Ellen make her almost bearable. I almost did not have to remind myself not to kick her. With Calais to distract Ellen, and Ellen to recount her various adventures in wherever she had gone I was allowed silence.
Apparently, February is a month of truce for the arguing ones downstairs. For the first week there is silence. Now that the window treatment fiasco has been settled they are contemplating tapestries.
It is quiet tonight.

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Sunday, January 28th, 2001
4:00 pm
This fellow summarized it quite nicely, so I will refrain from dwelling too much upon any of it. In the case of this fellow, though, not much needs to be said--his words speak well enough for themselves. I was unaware that I was trying to win or lose, such values are trivial. Regardless, when one makes judgment calls based upon incidents taken out of context, one always ends up seeming a moron. As with my own actions, there are always specialized contexts in which to view them. Anyone can be proved a buffoon when put into the wrong settings. I will also venture to say that his logic is quite flawed, and his concept of presenting an argument is lacking (this of course, being my own humble opinion).
� Ellen is away for the week, and so I have little force behind me to appear in public. There does exist a small amount of curiosity as to whether or not the Pretentious Wretch was the girl reading Borges behind the coffee shop counter. After conversing with her last evening I have all but assumed that she is.
� Calais and I have both come to the agreement that those upon soap boxes, or eager to turn specifics into gross generalizations are ridiculous, indeed. Or rather, as she very eloquently put it, "I don't like them."

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Saturday, January 27th, 2001
8:00 pm - Humanity.
� In recent times this creature has decided that I am not human--perhaps she meant humane. In any case, I find this somewhat amusing, and as always unfounded. Of course, under certain terms being human is a rather messy affair and should be avoided like the plague.
� She appears to be the sort to look to the dead for inspiration. There is nothing wrong with being an academic poet, at least she did not try to sound like a dead british man--with their elevated iambic verse.
� Regardless, her and Ellen would make quite a pair. I do not mean to attack her, or do her any ill (or do I?). I even suspect that this creature maybe the girl behind the counter at the coffee shop who was trying to appear to be reading Borges.
� It is all rot, all of it.

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