Mario Villalobos


I slept in this morning, and I loved every minute of it. Except for the weird dreams. I had some vivid dreams about her. That’s two days this week where she’s invaded my dreams. I’ll admit, though, that I really wanted to contact her today because of those dreams. I didn’t, but a part of me wishes that she comes back into my life soon. She made me happy when we were good, and her laugh’s the most vivid sensation I miss the most. I’m moving on, though. I want to be better than I’ve ever been. That means stronger, smarter, sexier than I’ve ever been. Most of it is for me and my own happiness, but I am human: I want to make her jealous and inflict as much pain as possible through my pursuit toward perfection, unreachable as it may be.

I’ve been feeling cocky recently, and part of it is that a lot of things in my life are clicking. The first two chapters in my novel are done. I know where I’m going, I know what I’m doing, and the whole process is fun and so, so rewarding. I love my car. Even though it only gets 15 MPG on average, which makes me feel a tad guilty every time I drive it, I love the V8 Hemi engine it has, the badass grill on the front that makes me feel like a beast every time I’m on the road, and all the space inside of it, which is excessive yet awesome. It seats eight people comfortably, or can fit most, if not all, of my stuff with the two back seats folded down. I’m enjoying my job, even though I know the next few months will be long and somewhat painful. I have a lot to learn, a lot to do, and more that I don’t even know yet. But it pays amazing, I like the people there so far, and it’s a job I’m actually eager to share to people, especially any new girls I meet.

I went to the movies today in Polson and saw Gone Girl. There was an amazingly gorgeous girl working the concession stand, and for the first time in months, I didn’t feel shy or insecure. I wanted to talk to her, but she was busy, as a lot of people came to see Gone Girl in this small, two-screen theater that seats a fraction compared to an average sized theater in LA (it has just one aisle that runs straight down the middle of the screening room, so there’s no real center seat). I went inside, watched the movie, and decided I was going to talk to her. Unfortunately, her shift must’ve ended because I didn’t see her around anymore. Mind you, the theater’s only run by like three people, so there’s no place she could’ve been. Maybe next time.

My attitude’s improving. You guys may have noticed that entries and entries ago, but it’s really hitting me now. Life isn’t over when someone you love leaves you. As cliché as this is, it’s really a beginning, a fresh start. I went back to basics, and I’m working as hard as I can to keep seeing this through. I wrote, meditated, worked out, and read today. I rewarded myself with a really good movie. I’m ready to move on, and it feels good.