Heat. A breeze would be nice, but this stifling computer lab, windows though it has open, offers not even a hint of one. Bells play about my aural sphere, emanating from somewhere other than this room (although sweltering they may be, as well). Ah, the mediaeval postures of a modern city. I began a book on buddhism. I am taken back to my days in Clear Lake, alone in my commodious dwelling, poised in meditation, and oddly satisfied. Prolly just nostalgia. Boris gave the tome to Vesna. She might well benefi...
What would mother say if I joined a monastery? Father would be peeved. Escape from the toils reeking of penitence into routinized bliss. What a grey future I see. But I have said that hundreds of times and Sweet Entropy has come to the rescue. I await her again. ...
I think today is February 3. I will never send this letter to Dana. It would be abortive - futile venture. In another key, another motif, the advantage to being alone is that I can stay out as late as I wish, get as drunk as I want, etc, and there is no one at home waiting to complain. If the reader now makes the assumption that I *AM* alone, he / she would be incorrect. There days ago, or so, Vesna and I moved into a flat rather near the dreaded ex-workplace -> *1 2 Snap*. I now sit in a pub 100m from tha...
There I am on a train again, spinning away from you. The pain is intense, maybe akin to what you feel -- distraught, lost. I have made a number of relatively terrible mistakes in my life, but I must admit that leaving you has to be the worst. Now I expect you'll change your phone number, your emails, perhaps even your name to cut me from your life. I wonder if you can forgive this stupidity of mine. I reread your *I Love You* note that is warmly nestled in my pocket and much to my chagrin, I could not help...
Displacement is unforgiveable. All I can think about is the distance from my love, the lies I tell to make my isolation greater, and a growing emptiness engulfing me. If I lose Vesna, which is a possibility, I think I'll become a hermit. She told me herself that she feels she could never love again -- ie, if we split up, she could never be with anyone else. She feels like loving solitude, much like me. This similarity, along with so many others I have with her, is staggeringly dumbfounding. Sad, stupid co...
Neglectful Bob, it seems. Much time has passed 'tween the last and this entry in my journal. I am at [Cafefour](https://www.google.com/maps/preview/place/Soukenick%C3%A1+1084%2F2,+110+00+Praha,+Czech+Republic/@50.0907068,14.4281256,19z/data=!3m1!4b1!4m2!3m1!1s0x470b94c1d5ab4b49:0x9c0d2ffe4a1cb10c) in Prague: that place next to the dreaded *Pivrnec* near Náměstí Republiky and a former place of employment dubbed *EIN*. #### Earnest Intellectual Naivete. Two kurvy have seated themselves facing me, babbling i...
The good news is that Dana and I are communicating again like good *creatures* should. The bad news is that I have Vesna here, also communicating well, happy and semi-satisfied. She said a few very poignant things last night with which I agree wholeheartedly. She said I should love her not because she is *good for me*, but because she is great. What she means is that I should love her for who she is, not what she does. Dana said the exact same thing. The way she is, not her doings, aspirations, etc, shoul...
Tuzla, Bosnia with Vesna. My right contact is irritating me. One moment. It is still irritating me, but I refuse to let its petty annoyance balk another few paragraphs of deft, incisive wit. See what I get after finishing *A Confederacy of Dunces*? Back to the matter at hand: Tuzla and Vesna. I was just informed by her, poking only the upper one fifth of her naked body out of the cracked bathroom door, thaht the icy water of the intermittent shower was *too cold for Vesna*. In this fabulous city, water is...
 > Three yellows, one brown > Children kicking plastic balls > Screaming at pigeons ---------------------- > In Chris's fingers > One strip of translucent tape > To muffle a child ---------------------- > The cooing flock lights > A blanched dead against the green > Chewing and staring ------------------ > Plump as a pigeon > A child squeals in the distance > Ready for roasting ---------------- > Bland, loud and selfish > Soulless hus...
I fucking hate Jeníček. He is a sheep. He is worse than a sheep because he wants to go home and shag his laptop instead of doing things that people who are **NOT** sheep do, like drinking lots of beer until they vomit for seven days. I fucking also hate waiting for the **DAMN** metro with this smelly kurva sitting behind me. I must hold my breath and shag with a large black man. Jeníček is addicted to his laptop. He does nothing but shag it all day. Jeníček is so fucking stupid that he would rather sit on t...
It is wacky Tuesday. In two days it shall be Acy day. Imagine that (imagine that)! How well has bob (in all of his slothful grandeur) progressed with his chat application? Hm? Well, not really any at all, if the truth need be known. The initial item in my two entry list circa two days prior has been completed, but the second not even touched. A new problem has cropped up, as well, and I shall enumerate it here: The ImageButtons cannot load their images because the images can only be loaded by the ap...
