This is my diary. It's 21:31 on my tablet clock.

It's March 13th, 2017.

I am in my bedroom at 139 Michele Drive, Bastrop County, Texas, USA.

I am facing west.

I drank some wine this evening. There is a little left in my glass. I think I will finish it in a few minutes.

I am listening to the song, Song for Zula by Phosphorescent.

I think it is pretty good. It's nice. I've been listening to my Spotify library for a few minutes.

I am interested in being accurate about my life, but I don't want to put in too much effort. I just want my impression of reality to get through to my reader.

Last night I watched episode 4 of Big Little Lies on HBO with my mother. I liked it I am going to watch the first 3 episodes tomorrow. My mom recorded them on her Direct TV service.

Porn is a big problem for me again.

It is like junk food.

I feel like I want it really bad. I give it to myself. I want to be different. I want to stop thinking about consuming very bad things.

I want to be good.

I wonder what is so appealing to me about these horrible foods and horrible sexual acts.

I think these are not even Food or Sex.

They are bad replacements.

I want this to make sense more than I have ever wanted anything.

Work is difficult. I want the pleasure of good things without the work.

Why do I want to avoid the work? The work is good. A blessing, as Blackaliscious said.

Difficulty is good. Rilke.

I want the good.

I want to read Plato, Dostoevsky, and Lewis Carrol.

I want to read Philip McShane.

I want to learn all I can about Algebra and Statistics.

I want to pass my classes.

I want to sign up for two more classes in the summer session at ACC.


So.


I was conceived just about 28 years ago.

Aaron is fun. I like being his friendly person.

I like that we say many things to each other.

I wanted to go to Main Street Cafe and tell Andee that Aaron has told me a lot about her and that's all.

I still like Andee a lot.

Tomorrow I will be at home.

I will do good.

Maybe not.

I am going to brush my teeth in a minute, then I will go to bed.

Bye.

- Greg Wredberg