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July 24, 2003 // 2:02 a.m. // This is what I'm saying
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. (Note: This is exactly how I envisioned beginning this entry from the beginning.) I think that cows will fly over the moon before I can pick up on one single correct signal from a girl. Otherwise, I could have danced the night away with two very attractive girls who apparently sent clear signals to everyone but me that they had at least a fleeting interest in me. I just need some girl to be bold and tell me that she wants to dance or anything for that matter. Until then, she'll always grow frustrated at constantly dropping hints on me to no avail and I'll grow frustrated that she is constantly dropping hints (that others have to point out later, mind you) rather than just telling me what she wants. In other words, I need a girl who initially plays the part of the chaser because due to my inability to even pick up on anything less direct than, "I like you" or "let's dance," we'd get nowhere with each other.