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10-10-03 - 1:23 p.m.

I seem to have somehow stumbled upon an elaborate social network of people with ridiculous, dark, misanthropic senses of humor who are simply hilarious. Yesterday we sat talking for around two hours, and I got another back massage and was asked when I'd come back. They are all casual acquaintances, but I can't help but feel more popular than I can ever remember being.

As for the concert, Ani struck chords of joy in my heart, blurred my eyes, and made my knees tremble. I had anticipated the event by imagining everything I wanted to hear her sing. Instead, she sang almost nothing I knew and I heard every new word and note for the first time straight from her mouth. I've decided I wouldn't have it any other way. I was overjoyed, having been hit in a moment of semimania anyhow. She danced, she cried, she shone. She was feisty as a crab and graceful in a bird. Most of all, she was radiant self in action. That little five foot woman put us in trance. She criticized political insitutions and complemented this with songs of hope and a poem about how "rivers of tears" could carve a "Grand Canyon of light." She inspired me, "I don′t take good pictures cause I have the kind of beauty that moves" I was so excited to be myself, to be a woman, to be a political nut.

Afterwards, Bat said "I am so greatful to you", so overjoyed to see the joy that welled up in me. I said, "My cup runneth over," and we kissed again. It was so slow, as if the moment to moment anticipation, the time it took to move towards each other, were as satisfying as the kiss itself. Our lips barely touched, as if we knew only dared to touch each other's delicate souls. And afterwards, he gave me a look of complete humility that consumed him. I feel it quite possibly may have been the most romantic moment of my life. Bat is sad because he says he doesn't know why, but he feels we can't be together. Perhaps that was so, but I thought I could sing joy yesterday. In a bipolar person's life, aside all the crazy wreckage that needs to be cleaned up, the tears you bleed instead of cry, there comes a pearl. There comes an ecstacy and a celebration, and you have to pinch yourself.

I felt like I made love to Ani in that concert. That reminds me of the point that there were very many beautiful lesbians and I felt I wanted what they have. I was overjoyed with my relative abundances and lacks of femininity in different areas of my life.

I admit I've been sick. My mom's talking hospitalization.

 

 

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