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My name is Jonathan Zachary. And I want to share with you....
From the diary of a MADMAN… A PRE-CRISIS, PRE-GOLDEN AGE Character from Earth-B (Brooklyn) Returns?
Chronological Time-line of the events from the last 24 hours -11:32 PM. I check my hotmail account one last time, hoping that SOMEBODY has e-mailed me. -Classmates.com sent me an e-mail saying that I have mail from a former classmate. -I log on Classmates, hoping that it is SOMEBODY cool. -That’s when I see the name “Kathy Eminger” with the subject line “OH MY GOD” -She writes about how she had been trying to contact me for years, and that she would like to start an e-mail correspondence going. -I write back, tell her positive things about my life -12:01am. I have trouble falling asleep. I can’t stop thinking about her. My mind takes me back to a bi-gone age- Elementary School on Earth-B. Did you know that I have only spoken to one person from that time period since I left it? -Katherine was a nice friend of mine. She was blonde. -8:34 AM Check my hotmail account before I go to work. Nothing yet. -1:39 PM Check my hotmail account at work. Yes. I smile and glow for the first time. -More info, and more flattery. I’m starting to buy right now. I write back. -1:42 PM I unofficially continue to suspect that she is an Enneagram Personality Type #4. -4:00 PM I check e-mail again. She wants to speak with me over the phone- about old times and what not. I get a little scared. -5:02 PM Before I leave work, I check once again. She dropped me another line. I write back. -5:45 PM She says that she called PS 251 Elementary School and Roy H Mann Junior High School in attempts to contact me. -6:00 PM I receive 3 pictures of her in the e-mail box. She says that she will call at 8:30. -6:01 PM She has matured…and has dark black hair. -6:02 PM Officially submit my theory that she is a TYPE FOUR Individualist. -6:04 PM I feel a little uneasy about her being so attractive. -6:06 PM She requests pictures from me. -6:07 PM I imagine her utter disappointment and her turn off after she sees my pictures. I don’t send them. I will wait. I will prepare her for the let down. 7:24 PM I fantasize about myself at Yankee Stadium, with a bat in hand. I am coming to bat. My lips are tightly pressed together as I loosen my shoulders and arms while holding the bat. I know I will strike out- I’ve been in a slump- 0-for-355, the year 2002 has been a throwaway. 7:27 PM I breathe in and sigh. I am playing the phone conversation inside my head. I feel the strain in the conversation after she has seen my pictures. All night the internet connection kept crashing every time I tried to send 4 pictures of myself. Guess I’ll send them tomorrow. The Phone Call Thirty seconds into the conversation, my theory was proven to be true- once again. Kathy is a Long Island Liz. The voice is, like, so similar. The accent, however, is 100% Long Island. It’s fun being right most of the time. Unfortunately, as you shall see, the moral of this story is very grim and hopeless. You see, my intuition (Spidey sense, 6th sense, or madness) was right on the money again… Kathy is really a nice person. I, of course, was fully understanding with all of her thoughts, feelings, and words. We spoke for what seemed to be a couple of hours. Correction. SHE spoke for what seemed to be a couple of hours. I hardly uttered a sentence. She asked me why I wasn’t talking. She tried asking me things, but I just gave one-word answers. It was nothing against her, naturally. I think highly of her. It was alllllll me. It’s tough being a hermit. When you’re a hermit, you don’t want to interact or talk with people. You are content with being a detached observer. You are complacent with the status quo. It’s tough never having any guidance when it comes to talking to women. In the past, I was able to do this, but now…now I will not take any risks. There can be no emotional investment. No…emotional…investment. I digress. I found her to be very interesting. Around halfway into the conversation, I realized that she is very friendly, but there would be no possibility of a physical meeting. Now, you should realize by now that I had no expectations. Yet I was buying. There was this thought in the back of my mind. A nagging thought. She is a 4. She is romantic. She broke up with her boyfriend. She has been trying to contact me for years. How dense could I be? It’s obvious that there was some spark of something! Right? At the end of the conversation she said that she would call me later in the week, and for me to keep in contact. The Morning After I finally e-mailed her four pictures of myself- four different versions of myself. I figured I would play the odds. I hoped that she would at least like one of them, and that would be the image I would portray for her. She didn’t like any of them. She was hoping to see tattoos and body piercings. See I told you so. I did. From the first moment contact was made I told you so. Some may say that I set myself up, that I created my own suffering. I say that’s hogwash. I knew I wasn’t her type. My intuition told me so. And my feelings were telling me to avoid opening myself up for rejection at all costs. Perhaps it is a morbid curiosity that I have. It almost is akin to “going through the motions” because you know the outcome. Do I like being right that much? Or do I simply want the universe to be consistent? Or do I just not care anymore? Have I given up? Yeah. The last one. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know. Cutting loses. That’s a good thing. Playing it safe. Another good thing. No expectations. Even a better thing. I am confident that women make me feel irrational. And, if I can’t think straight I’m pretty much ignorant and bad karma will be set into motion. The only thing I have is my mind; once the feelings take over I am screwed. I can’t help it. It’s a flaw in my system, and I can’t get it out. But I realize this, and I realize that I will not get over that hump in this lifetime. I did not instigate this whole story. I allowed it to progress, yes, but I did not start spinning the wheel of fate. I just got crushed by it again. The moral of the story? It should be fairly obvious. This is the Voice of Fate speaking…goodnight to all.
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