Dear Diary,

 

I've thought after I finished my last post (3 mins ago) I would check the blog and look at how many blog posts I mad last month. I made 55. Apparently the record so far is 57 in Sept 2010. Then I looked at what I was writing back then.

 

Fucking hell. I really do know how to capture the zeitgeist. I really don't fucking ever want to look back at those days. I don't want to look back. I resist looking back even if its good. It's cringeworthy reading this shit. I wonder if I'm in my 40s or my children, or people who knew mew when I'm long dead are reading this shit, and think: fuck, this guy was a bit of an airhead.

Well, that's me I guess. I did also write essays on Wagner, and philosophy, or social issues and identity politics. I did also volunteer with community groups and support good causes. I did also have a reasonable social life oriented around the gym. Speaking of which. I'm really looking forward to seeing sexy older woman instructor at the gym tomorrow morning. She makes me feel giddy inside. I'm so obviously attracted to her. She's probably taken. She's so dreamy, she has lovely thick legs and a boyish body, lovely short hair (mine's way longer) and I love seeing her all red when she's pushing herself, fuck, even I go all red and I dont have the pigmentation for blushing. Well.. I used to think that. Those women at the gym on saturday classes make me blush like nobodie's business. Blushing gets the blood going, the heart pumping and I use that to push hard on the irons.

 

YEAH BUDDY!

Fuck I need to sleep. I'll only get like 4-5 hours today. Fuck me. Lots to do this weekend.

God I squandered my 20s :(