Thursday 9 March 2000

It is evening, I am alone, and my heart is speaking. I am sitting here looking at my old computer again, and memories come and go. I don't feel too well, but then again I know many people who would give all they owned to be as healthy as I am now. People who are slowly dying and know it. I, on the other hand, don't have the slightest idea what way I am going. I may die tonight or live for another forty years, and I could give reasons for both. But ignorance is the human condition, and I am human, much as it has sometimes pained me to admit. Only of the past can I know something, and even that is fragmented, wavering, distorted. I see as if in a mirror, darkly. The ten years old VGA monitor in front of me has indeed been just that, a dark mirror, for months now. The last entry I found on it was from July last year. Now that the new computer is sent in for repairs, I have fired up the old one. And the dark mirror comes to life with images from the past.

The first image, covering the whole screen, is the wallpaper photo. It is from one of the early digicam photos, from Christmas a couple years ago. It shows a smiling me sitting beside a smiling SuperGirl (now SuperWoman), my all time best friend in the world. How much younger we both look there! I in particular. And how even much younger I felt! It seems like a dream, now. Was I really that happy and carefree? I do not have diaries that old, only scattered nitaries (nightary, as opposed to dayary, OK?) and I only wrote them when I felt down: They were mostly confessions. And they were not frequent. So I guess I was really rather carefree back then. When I was in my thirties.

I cannot say how long I have loved her. In a way I did since she looked over the top of the table and her shining blue eyes met mine. So I am aware that this is not exactly "when a man loves a woman", though she sure is that now. And I still love her, though I guess she had a hard time guessing that today.

She called me as soon as I came home. She has probably tried many times through the afternoon. She asked me to come over on Saturday. (Of course she does not stay here!! She stays with her old aunt.) I started to talk about shopping, about it being payday tomorrow. Then I went on to talk about the crashed PC and the repair bill which I don't know the size of. She was irritated by the mixed signals, and let me know that she was not looking to siphon money off me. On the contrary, she called to invite me over for dinner. (She cooks well, too.) I did not mean to offend her, I relly did not. But my words don't come out right, because I talk like I would talk to me, not to her. I bet the Sims don't have these problems!

I looked through the old Windows wallpapers. There were lots of full screen shots from Daggerfall. Daggerfall could run on this computer, but it was slow and very unstable. It would usually crash in less than half an hour, often in less than ten minutes, and often took the whole computer with it. It lacks a reset switch, too, so I had to turn if off and later on again. Despite this, I would play for hours, several times a week. I must admit, that game really grabbed me. Living in a fantasy world. (Though there may be those who say that I do not need a computer game for that.)

There are some screenshots with comic book characters, mostly Green Lantern (Hal Jordan). He was my hero from early in childhood, though he never quite eclipsed Snoopy. I guess I preferred Green Lantern over Superman because Superman was born to his power, while GL got his because he was honest and utterly fearless. Anyone may be fearless if they are already Superman. But Hal Jordan was honest and fearless first and was rewarded, sort of, with the power. Despite these traits he was always very human in other ways, because he was born and bred a human.

There is one wallpaper picture showing a female actress being carried over the shoulder of a male actor, none of which I know by name. Her long, fluffy hair is hanging down. I still occasionally dream of carrying women - in my dreams at night, as faithfully recorded in my diary archives. Much good that does me, or them.

[OK, I have snipped another page of rambling here. Be happpy.]
I feel like I am taking my life down for a soft landing, rather than trying to fly higher and higher until I run out of fuel. I honestly believe that at 41, my potentially reproductive years are behind me. It would probably be different if it was a long-time habit. But if I now started to have those multiple, whole-body orgasms that experts recommend, I would probably die. Sure, there are worse ways of dying, I guess. But I would much prefer to hang on to life for yet a while, if possible, in the hope that I may still get a chance to mean something to someone other than myself.

Someone like my best friend. If I live and walk about on Saturday, you may still find me smiling by her side, even though I am older and my smile is more tired.

Visit the Diary Farm for the older diaries I've put out to pasture.