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I have been thinking a lot about Warren’s e-mails recently and his ideas on the spirit of murder. It’s really invovled well thought out stuff. I read some of his older writing again last night and was absolutely stunned by the elegant way he portrays violence. I mean this man could make the horrors of World War II seem beautiful. I thought about e-mailing him back this morning to tell him how much I have enjoyed his daily musing and his earlier work but I am shy when I am around truly intelligent human beings. He is like no man on earth because his brain focusing on these little non-important ideas and much them into moving poetry. His musing have brought me full circle from how i use to think about the world. It’s moving and thought provoking and scary how well I can see his idea without any true explanation of them. I’m so jealous of his talent…

Christopher’s birthday was this week. We had made plans for this weekend but I cancelled them. I didn’t think it would be a good idea that we see each other on special occasion because things can happen which I would regret (mostly shouting matchs or akward after hours talking). He ask about his tattoo. I think he is incredibly silly to want to add another piece of me to himself but he is an incredibly silly guy when it comes to me. I’m incredibly instable when it comes to him: one minute I think we can be friends and sort things out, the next we are fighting each other because I simply can’t deal with his affections for me (I hate it when he tells me he loves me).

Dan comes home from Turkey tonight. I look foward to seeing him oddly enough. When the day before he left things got a little odd with the whole head licking and what-not. Anyway I miss my little boy, he’s growing up so fast. I remember when he was 16 and wanking in the den. Ah. John use to hug him all the time. “Give me a hug, Dan”. I miss those days, when I hated Lee Katz for being neurotic, when Joe wouldn’t leav the basement, and when John and I were a happily married couple. It is funny how things change so rapidly: this time by next year I should be graduated and living in a considerly nice apartment in Midtown. But is that what I want? I am not even sure I want to stay here much longer, I feel something calling to me. Maybe Englad? Maybe Spain? I just know I do not want to live and die in the States. This world is much to large for me to stay in America for the rest of my life.

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