i am i am a yam a yam, oh am i am a yam?
i wonder if anybody really finds this whole thing to be interesting.
i suppose everybody wishes i'd just shut up about the diary and start talking about what's really going on inside me.
i'm not sure they would like to know.
i'm not sure i would like them, i.e., you all, to know.
i'm in the unusual position of knowing my entire audience personally, and being able to imagine them reading about the things that i really do and think way down inside.
it's not a comfortable feeling for some things.
it's not like i'm a killer or a thief or a rapist. i've hardly done any illegal drugs and i don't drink much. i haven't got anyone pregnant, and i've hardly had any sex for that matter. i'm pretty much like this web site -- a big, empty, white void with some little black marks on it.
it's the lack of things that i've done that makes me uncomfortable to talk about the few things that i have done.
probably ridiculous.