Anonymity, animosity and Panic Attacks

I almost ran in to someone I really really don't like today. Apparently, the rave scene that I was once a part of has transformed somewhat during my absence.
There's good an bad in knowing more or less everybody in a certain place. Or, atleast knowing a shitload of people.
I'd say that most of these people, however, are more acquaintances than friends.
One of my good friends, however, has the unfortunate ability to hang with a man that I completely despise. A man that hurt me in what now seems like a previous life.
I had not seen him for 2-3 years, and when I saw his hideously ugly mug today, my heart skipped a beat, and I didn't really know what to do with myself. This is one of the few people I actually hate. I say that I hate alot of things, but people rarely get that strong a moniker from me. But this guy is just something else.
This isn't story time, but suffice it to say that I left, what could otherwise have become a really nice party, early.
I thought I had moved past this, because I hadn't been confronted in so long, but apparently, that wasn't it.

I mean I love to hang out with my friends, but there are certain things and certain people that just mess it up for me. Unfortunately, these faces of old have started to resurface from time to time, and I'm beginning to see that maybe the community moved on without me, but it didn't move on long enough. I would have preferred to be completely anonymous, without recognizing a single soul tonight, than recognizing lots of people and playing the social farce that I sometimes refer to as my life.

Which is also too bad, because I was hoping I'd get to meet another good friend of mine later, but now the whole evening is jinxed.

So I did the second best thing, got into my lovely new car, and drove on over to my friends house. We took it for a ride, smoked a cigar and played with his new surround sound system.

Two very different worlds. What feels good one minute might become a real-life nightmare the next. I do, however, doubt that life on a winding road in my car with the top down could turn into a nightmare, save for some horrible automotive accident.

Luckily, my car is insured against wreckage.
My soul, on the other hand, isn't.

If people started selling body armor for the soul, I'd buy in in a heart beat.

My mind is going...

--Markus out.