2003-04-04 - 4:08 a.m.

I don’t function properly as a human. There are mechanisms of personality and interaction with people that i haven’t learned. i blame my parents. They never tried to teach me how to act in public so this is what was spawned from that neglect. I’m a wild animal man and a lonely insecure fuck.

On Wednesday I drank alcohol. That would be the summary of the day. From the time I woke up Wednesday morning to when I went to sleep in the wee hours of Thursday morning I drank no water - only hard alcohol, nothing less than 50 proof, but mostly tequila.

I had a date with Aisha to get drunk on the quad at noon. I showed up while the bells were tolling. I didn’t have anything to do specifically on this day. Homework, but no classes. I put the alcohol in plastic ben and Jerry’s water bottles. We started off with clear tequila. very low key liver destruction. We sat out there and talked about poetry and our lives and our cultures. People i knew and a few she knew kept walking by. Dan, Lisa, Azver, Eric, james, Kristin, and Chuck. Aisha and i met in a poetry class taught by Chuck. In typical Rob Roy style I accosted Chuck into a conversation. i was staring off in an infinite direction of thought, not paying attention when Aisha said, “Look, There’s Chuck.” I look over and out of instinct yell, “Chuck.” Now Chuck has the option to just nod and keep walking, like he usally does. But on this day he comes over. Big mistake. Once you start talking to me it doesn’t end unless there is appointment that needs to be honored. If you have free time, then share it with me and the English language.

Chuck kneeled down next to us, he was on his way to mail out some poems to magazines. Eventually his kneeling became squatting and then once his ass hit the grass he was ours. Aisha painted her nails while we talked with Chuck. Aisha painted my nails while we talked even more with Chuck. Then Aisha got to paint a couple of Chuck’s fingers while he talked with us. For over two hours Chuck talked with Aisha and i about traveling America and the world, writing poetry, reading poetry, the poets we know from books and in the flesh. Eventually after we entertain Chuck for a few hours - we let him on to how we were on an alcohol binge early on - Chuck leaves. Lisa and Azver show up. Azver and Aisha start arguing over Hajab, the Islamic tradition of wearing a scarf to conserve modesty. Aisha is on both sides of the fence, depending on when you catch her. Its a tough subject. I understand the idea of modesty, but I think it isn’t fair that it isn’t applied to men. Too often it is used to subjugate woman. And the beauty of people should not be covered up - it should be expressed to the fullest extent of one’s personality. But Aisha is torn because, as of now, she is getting along with her family - and they still honor hajib. Azver doesn’t agree with it at all. Aisha usally bad talks it with me, but she likes to argue so that is probably why she is taking the other side of Azver. At one point Aisha paints a couple of Azver's nails and then gets angry and paints a few swipes of black on his hand. At another point Aisha goes to the bathroom. I talk to Lisa and Azver about my attraction to Aisha. When she comes back Azver and Lisa start making out. I start kissing Aisha and damn it feels good to kiss someone. Even though she only kisses me when she’s drunk, and now out in public she is reserved about it. Earlier I had asked her to kiss me - she said she would if there weren’t so many people around. But then, as i said before, after a little alcohol she was licking the juice from my lips as if she just as lonely and thirsty for human contact as i am. i don’t deny it - I’m fucking lonely - and she feels good in my arms.

Eventually Azver and Lisa leave and Dan shows up for a little while. Aisha paints his nails. Dan has actually crossed to quad consistently through the afternoon. I run into Dan more often than a baby’s shit rubs onto it’s ass. We see Kristin once again. aisha and I are supposed to meet with a friend of hers named Michelle about me getting a job at Excel. Its a communications company - buts its really a pyramid scheme. Its working now because the cell phone industry and the phone industry is expanding, but in a few years the company will topple. This Michelle girl is nice. She’s a great sales person. Attractive - and let’s be honest, if you’re trying to sell men (i. e. dumb animals) on stuff you have to flirt a little bit. She asks me all these questions like what’s my dream car and what would i do if I won the lottery. I tell her i want someone to make a kinetic car for me, like the Flinstones, and if i won the lottery i would invest it into the business community of Davis. My answers were a little off from the norm. She shows me all these visuals about how the company is growing and what is different about it. They are cheaper because they don’t advertise - that’s why they pay so well. She kept asking if I was still interested. The whole time i was drunk and saying crazy things to her. Also Aisha has holding my hand and rubbing my leg under the table - i sure the fuck was interested. But then she finally got to the money part. She wants a $400 dollar security deposit. I’m not going to do that but i tell her I’ll think about it. She keeps asking e what is there to think about. I tell I’m sure about my time availability because I like my current job, which i got for free, and they pay me all right. I’m intrigued by the company - but my degree of intrigue isn’t worth $400. She says that I’ll get it back as soon as I sign on ten customers. But what they really want is new employees to give them $400 dollars and then that $400 filters up to the top echelons of the company. Its a pyramid scheme. I don’t say this to her. But she admits that its a pyramid - just not a scheme. Sure, for now it will work but eventually there is going to be a legion of new employees out $400 and that isn’t going to be me. Aisha invites Michelle to dinner and she says maybe. The interview was next to a Starbucks. I’ve never been inside of Starbucks, because i don’t want to. Michelle kept talking about them though during the interview. Like what does a Starbucks employee have to do to get a raise. i said buy the boss cigarets. i’ve never seen a Starbucks employees that doesn’t smoke. At Excel all you need to do is sign up new customers (or better yet, employees) and they change your title, but not your responsibity - to a higher more noble sounding name. SCAM.

Aisha takes me to the Dorm Cafeteria. Free food. While there we run into people we know. Everyone i know is surprised that i’m a freshman. Aisha is very concerned about her friend Joe coming and eating with us. A loyal Write Club member, Shawn, sits with us and brings his friend jamie. Joe finds us. And Shawn wants me to tell a story about my Grandfather. So i drunkenly do the grandfather section of my stand up bit. Everyone’s laughing. i’m speaking loud, because i always do and its even worse when i’m drunk. At one point we talk about where we are living next year and Shawn really wants to live wherever i’m living.

We’re going to the open mic night at Delta venus and Shawn is invited. He tags along with us up to Aisha’s room. Which sucks because if we were alone i would have probably made out with her a little bit. But eventually we go to Delta venus where we meet Dan, Kristin, and grace. and also run into Will from Write Club. Aisha paints Shawn's nails.

We all sit around and drink. We finish the bottle of Tequila and I go to my car for reserves. kahlua and gold tequila. Not as coy as we used to be with the clear stuff.

Chris shows up to. I sign up Myself, Aisha, and Dan to read because Kristin and grace have left for a while. Will reads first. And then this woman that is walking across the country to talk to laura bush. she tells us what we already know about the war. i hate it when people preach to the converted. We’re coffee house hipsters, of course we’re liberal. I laugh at her knowing she won’t ever to to Laura Bush. But I pity our country more than her, for the same reason - because she won’t ever talk to laura Bush.

I read. I start of with a new poem, “Horny Homogenization (i. e. America)” and then i read “Jealous of 397 Miles” and then i read “Dogma in the Sheets.” I’ve asked Aisha to help me read the last one but she declines. I read it and the crown loves it. If those of you reading this at Diaryland.com what to read it go to writeclub.net after I read Aisha goes up but she forgets the words. She has her poetry memorized. She does a different one than intended. then Dan reads - Dan always reads, which is a good thing. Then Aisha goes up again because she’s been whispering her words to herself the whole time Dan has been reading. She remembers them.

We all sit down and Dan, Chris, and i play yatzee. Aisha talks about going to Seattle this weekend. Shawn beats me to it and accepts her invitation. She’s going with a group from school. i see Shawn with different girls. Why is it no one lets me have my chance without competing with me? Whatever. I keep telling myself all is fair in love and war (same differnce). [breath] All is fair. Kristin and Grace come back. We all decide to got to Chris’ to smoke pot - because that's what you do at Chris’.

While we’re smoking out I’m asked to impersonate Christopher Walken. And then tell my homeless Berkeley man story. At one point after this I start preaching very loudly about my love for the clitoris. About how it is evolution at its finest. Then i start punching myself in the head. At least it’s some sort of bodily contact. It so fucking lonely that it hurts on the inside. That uncontrollable hurt because it isn’t creating by a tanngible object. It hurts like cancer. the loneliness just eats me up. That's why I do crazy things, because attention subsides the loneliness. And hitting myself is a way of masturbation - its bodily contact. The pain is real - it is from something tangible, my fist. I would rather have it be the mouth and hands of a woman touching me - but that wasn’t happening at the moment. Because there were other people around so Aisha wouldn’t kiss me. I’m not stupid. I know she’s into me. But she’s into everybody. She’s into Shawn and Dan - not Chris though. She calls him a fratboy (even though he isn’t) and he calls her a freshman. Chris wouldn't let Aisha paint his nails. She claims to be bi-sexual. I know she’s a little nutty. but if she would agree to have me, even now while I write this, I would go along with it. But I wouldn’t be afraid to end the relationship if was all a sham.

We start walking though the pathways of Davis. I try to get people to skip. Everyone else is too drunk or stoned to. I do think that I’m manic depressive. But I’m never depressed around other people - I’m just honest (too damn honest) and hyper (too damn hyper). I tell everyone that the first rule of smoking Chris’ weed is that you obey Chris. Subsequently, that is also the second rule. We wonder more and talk about random things. At one point Kristin and Grace leave. That bummed me out, seeing as I really like Kristin and Grace. But they seemed very reserved throughout the evening like they had something on their mind that inhibited them. So I wasn’t surprised that they left. At one point Aisha wants to go home. So we turn around but after a few minutes she starts yelling, “Dan,” like she always does when she’s drunk. I want to take her back to her dorm and make out some more. They whole day I’ve been trying to convince her to date me. I know now that she isn’t in a place in her life where she wants to date one person. But that fucks me up even more because its a challenge. We wonder around alone until we run back into Dan, Chris, and Shawn. We break off into two groups in front of Albertsons and I walk with Aisha and Shawn back to the Dorms. I keep offering Aisha my Jacket and occasionally she takes it and then gives it back a few minutes later, just as she does with Shawn.

At the Dorms we all walk up to Aisha’s floor but then Shawn bails. I walk Aisha to her door and she just says see you later. No bodily contact. Hope is the foundation of disappointment - and then that blooms into loneliness. I walk though campus. Singing Marvin gaye and Hank Williams and David bowie songs. Eventually Aisha calls me but says no words. i call her back and we talk for a few minutes. Then she wants Dan’s number. I give it to her. But I tell her Dan is at Chris’. I feel sorry for myself and for her, and for Dan. She seemed into me that one one night where we made out for hours. We talked on the phone and e-mailed each other. I told my friends I was into her. And now this. What's Dan going to do. I don’t give a fuck. all is fair. Pussy ain’t like the sun, there is more than one.

i walk to my car and put all the alcohol in the trunk and then very carefully drive to Chris’ to pick up my backpack. Chris isn’t there but he parks his car while I’m at his door step. I get my back back and go to my car. But then Chris brings out my poster and then wants to talk seriously. His really fucking concerned. He says that I frightened everyone when i was hitting myself. Everyone likes me and it isn’t cool to hurt myself. i understand where he is coming from. I like Chris. he’s a great guy. More of a man than I am. But he’s sane and I’m not.

I drive back to where I parked and I sleep in my car.

I wake up at 8 am because i have to write a short paper for my history class. I didn’t do any homework for any of my classes. i go to the lab and get distracted by revising the write club web site but I write the paper and I’m done by 9:45. I walk back to my car to get some books. I run into Dan. I then walk to Wellman where I’m supposed to drop of write club flyers at a poetry class. I recognize a bunch of faces in the class. But man, Jennifer the Instructor, is actually quizzing them on writing poetry. That is same crazy shit. When i think of teaching poetry I ask one question. What would Walt Whitman do?

i walk to my viticulture class and run into Aisha. We talk about last night and I find out that she is confused about the definition of masochist - she thinks it means what misogynist means. I explain to her what a masochist, a sadist, a misanthrope and a misogonist is. I’m tempted to skip class and go with her somewhere but I don’t. she’s already sick of me. And I don’t want to feel more pathetically powerless then I already do. So I got to viticulture. The place is packed but somehow i randomly find my friend Sara. After Viticulture i go get something to eat. i run into james. I get a salad and eat the whole thing while waiting in line. Then I rush to poetry where I’m supposed to make an announcement for Write Club. The instructor tells me to wait until everyone shows up. When she says I can I go up in front of the class. My heart races in nervousness. And I tell everyone about Write Club. I make a few jokes, my biggest laugh comes when I say touch crowd. I put flyers by the doors. During class we talk about several poems. Most notably “the Rose” by Blake. I tell the class the poem is figurative language all dealing with STDs. People laugh. then we talk for too long about the Beatles Blackbird. fuck the Beatles. At the end of class no one picks up my flyers, or at least only a few people do.

On my way to History while I walk through the quad I run into Aisha. I sit and talk with her a little bit. Her friend Stephon walks by and she introduces me. After a couple of minutes we all have to go to class. i go to History and turn in my paper. The instructor tells us folk lore stores about mexican American legends. i then walk to my hemmingway class. i don’t do the reading but we go through the stories. The instructor skims through the stories. While re reads aloud he skips words, sentences, paragraphs, pages, whole fucking ideas. All with his eyes barely open. the guy looks like the opposite of rip van Winkle. like he hasn’t slept for 20 years. After class i go to brian larsen’s fiction class to plug Write Club. Brian is a great guy. A big hunk of an intelligent man. He could do great things. He is like a hemmingway of our era, or at least he could be.

On my way to get something it eat in the M. U. i run into Aisha. i sit down and start talking to her. She is very pink today. Pink stripes on her bag. Pink pen. the red ink on her shirt from the heart in her “i love L. A.” statement bleeds into pink. I tell her that its all right because that's what heart’s do - they bleed. We see kristin but she doesn’t sit with us. I get up to get a salad and invite her to sit with us. Eventually she does. Right before I leave. As i walk away she gets up and follows me. outside on the quad she tells me she doesn’t like Aisha. i can see how that might be. Kristin has been in an interesting mood recently. I know that Aisha is childish and needs a lot of attention. When she was drunk she said some stuff about Kristin. She isn’t perfect and isn’t the type of person that kristin would hang out. now i feel bad because i infected our group with her. When she is nice she is great. Kristin is angry though. I try to let us all co-exist. At my poetry class the room is packed. A girl is blocking the doorway as i walk in. i mention the fire code. Unfortunately to only place for me to sit is the front of the class - we’re in a circle - right next to Darcy the t. A. I don’t want to rob her lecture but godammit i can’t turn down a forum. We start talking and I try not to interject. i’m realively silent about the first poem. Although I read it aloud to class. because i am the resident voluteer. then we talk about “Blackbird” I eventually say that i’m tired of the beatles. We’re giving them too much credit. Mccartney saying that he intended the song to be about the ciivil rights movemet and for black audience. i say that he got high, wrote the song, and then someone interpreted, while being high, into having the possibilty of paralleling the civil rights movemet. Old paul heard that, thought it could get him more respect and started telling being that. Screw the beatles - it all about marvin gaye. My class is kind taken aback by this before. i don’t think they’ve ever seen anyone bad talk the beatles before. At one point this girl looks at me and says, “i agree with rob.” i look at her in shock. that’s something i would do. Remember someone’s name and then use it with them real quick. We didn’t do any introductions in the class to remember people’s names - just the role. Now I’ve introduced myself to class when i was doing roll call and darcy has said my name a few times but wow, this girl was cool. After calls though, she was confused about marvin gaye and al green.

I walk back to the M. U. to hang out before Write Club and see Aisha again. We talk more and then he friends show up. Asha, Shane, and Nadia. i like Nadia, she’s friendly and isn’t afraid to talk to the mohawked freak. i bad talk hippies a little bit and she thinks that she is one. She’s going to be living with Aisha next year. And she’s a brown girl too - she intrigued me. Maybe she has a few cures for loneliness buried in her mouth that i can dig out with my tongue. Her and Shane frolic and skip through the field as Aisha and i walk to Write club. We run into Azver and he says he may come. he always says he may come. Every says they may come.

At write Club Will, dan, Kristin, Grace, Misha, Megan, eventually Bill, and Aisha, and i all attend. Its a friendly meeting. We’re all in a circle and we all all slightly know each other. Or at least everyone in the room knows a couple other people. Kristin isn’t comfortable. She keeps staring off into space; sad and contemplative. I admire her honesty in her appearance. I’m fake. When i’m sad I smile. When I’m lonely i tell a joke. When I’m depressed i frolic. My seritonin levels must be confused. I try to make jokes but she doesn’t laugh. She looks annoyed be me. she thinks of Aisha as a scurge. I admire her passion nd ability to have clear cut judgments of people. At one point Grace gets up and performs in her Eminem style of poetry a short little thing that attacks Aisha, but - although her delivery wasn’t subtle - I think the poem was too subtle to offend Aisha. Its funny because all Aisha talks about is the women sticking together and yet she is sad that they don’t get along with her. But as kristin says - Aisha is a girl and she is woman. We all have some growing up to do. So i go I go to watch better Off Dead in Wellman two. The film is great.

Afterward I see Kristin and grace in the back. They are supposed to be going some place with Annaliese. I don’t know if I’m invited. dan is going to paint. aisha says she isn’t sure if she’s going to the frat party she invited me to. i don’t want to go to it and yet i do. i’ve never been to own and i’m curious. i know I’ll be disgusted and disappointed, but those aren’t reasons to avoid it - those are reasons to attend. Aisha tells me that she isn’t going to it and she wants to walk to her dorm alone. I’m a fucking loser. if I would have went with her she would have left me in a corner alone while other guys fawn over her. its sad because she does so may things that i like. She tries o put me in my place. But she isn’t that mature. At times she can be very self reflexive. i can show her so much about life. I’ll admit it. I’m a fixer. that's why i go for the crazy women. its a self fulfilling prophesy. If i help them then I can feel better about myself. if my love keeps them sane then I’ll finally have something to feel proud about. And i’ll hope that they love me even more for respecting them and helping them sort all the things they need out. But then if i fail, she was already crazy in the beginning so it isn’t my fault. I think i’m pathetic. Who the fuck do i think i am. Sigmund Freud had a coach, I think my bed will do. What a moron i am.

My mohawk is also a self fulfilling prophecy. It is a gravity defying defense mechanism. I assume that no one is attracted to me so i dress in a way that would make that be so. If a women doesn’t like me I can blame my mustache and mohawk. i don’t have to blame my personality or face. I blame my style. I can change my hair cut but not my face and personality, but if i do change my hair style, then i’ll have nothing to blame but myself.

I walk around Wellman and run into Grace and Kristin again. I don’t know any sane women. maybe there aren’t any. But that's fine by me. they want a ride. i’m happy to oblige. I’d love to spend some time with people that show me mutual respect.

I see Eliose as we walk to me car. i talk to her a little bit. I introduce her to Grace and kristin. Annaliese shows up. We all go to my car. i clean it so i can fit the 4 of us in. i drive them to Kristin’s. We go to Safeway and Kristin buys jack Daniels and says she doesn’t want me there because she’ll feel ugly. i understand even though i don’t want to go. But I have a penis in a room for only vaginas. I’m told i don’t belong in a moment like this, so out i go into the lonely world of 6 billion. I drive around Davis looking for something to do. i drive to friend’s houses to see if they are home. I drive down fifth and i’m tempted to go to the frat party so i’m not alone. I drive home and then drive more around my neighborhood. Its midnight and I’m alone. all these people i know and i’m alone. I drive past my high school and wonder where 5 years went. they just feel like months. death is in the air. Time is disappearing. Its gripping on to me. I feel its finger prints cutting wrinkles into my face. I wonder about suicide. But I’m too chicken shit. We all die in insignificance, why waste the time. Just get it over with. Fuck selfishness. the world ain’t my oyster - its my grave. But i’m too chicken shit. And what's the difference; loneliness in life or loneliness in death. But at least when I’m alive i can hope for the pussy - I don’t know if that makes things feel better or worse.

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