I just wanted to tell somebody this, I'm sure I'll tell my family and they'll be happy etc. but won't believe me until they see it. It may be just another pointless dream, but I'll write it here first.


I'm going to college.

Maybe not, and I don't want to get my hopes up. I'm sure when I realize what hard, tedious work it will be I'll be discouraged and after being discouraged I'll probably give up. But what I know now is that I have no long term goals. Sure I'm getting a car within a month, and my 21st birthday is in 68 days. I'll get four days off for drinking and after that a four day tour of Oregon's Indian casinos some time in October. But what then? I'll probably start thinking about Christmas again. Then after Christmas I might think planning another extravagant vacation, maybe Mexico this time a week in Baja or Cancoon, or Vegas maybe.


I really love to travel, so that doesn't sound that bad, but before I know it I'll be 40 lonely and bald, but TODAY is the day that this path ends. I see the end, I always see the end. But the roads between birth and death are many and varied. I'm not sure where college will take me, at 20 I'm still not even sure what I want to do in life, I've changed my mind so many times. What I do know is that I want more than this, not more stuff, but I want to be more. So today I make a choice, I want to enroll in community college for now, in either the Business Administration, or Business and Supervisory Management with my eventual goal being an MBA.

So everybody after months of longing for something more, I have a long term goal, more than more money I will become a bigger cog in the machine of corporate America. Yeah it goes against most of what I believe in, like I tell myself daily: Sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do, to have the things you want to have.

The sad thing is, I already feel the sloth in me creeping in. I wrote this nice little entry, and I want it more than anything now. Well, I want to want it (kind of the way I feel about blind faith). When I look at the alternative to college, there's nothing there, except there is. There's travel there. I can see the world on a budget two weeks a year for the next 40 years! The trouble is, I'll still come home to a crappy apartment and a dead end job.

Well I'm still young, I still have 3/4 of my life ahead of me. If nothing else, by taking the first college course and getting my first college credit, I'll have done more than my parents did in life. And this will sound incredibly vain etc. but it's a good feeling to be a better person than your parents.

the bitter reality of it, there's no escape, you don't realize it until it's too late, but after you move out, 90% of your life is spent working for the 10% you're not

I am so sick of routine, every day it's the same thing, wake up, smoke, shower, smoke, smoke, smoke, work, more work, and just for the hell of it more work. Then it's fast food and TV, then more TV, and more TV. Sitcoms, Fraiser, South Park, King of the Hill. It's the same shows over and over again into nothingness. I'm so desperate for something more. I'm desperate for a goal. But even with a goal, it's still the same routine, wake up, shower, smoke, work, fast food, Sitcoms, Fraiser, South Park, King of the Hill. This is my life, and I already know my destiny. To die alone, probably with more money than I need, surrounded by stuff. No kids, and no family left. It doesn't really matter what I do between now and then. I'd like to see the world, but, where's the fun in traveling if you're going it alone. I could see the sun set on the great wall of China, but with no one to appreciate it. I could experience the Northern Lights in the eternal night of Burrow, Alaska, but who would care. I could see Stone Henge and the Pyramids, the Eiffel Tower, and Big Ben, who would care? I'm sure I'll be able to afford it if I keep at this job every day, and make a two week trip once a year, but who cares. I'm going to die alone, my passions un-persued and my money going to the pursuit of stuff.

Or maybe it's not at bleak as I've made it out to be, if life is the pursuit of distraction, then maybe I've just run out of distractions.

In something that I'm thinking is completely un-related, I had a great dream last night . . . well this morning. I was with my family, Uncle and GF, Cousins and BFs, and grandma and grandpa. We walk into a casino, well not so much a casino as a room with about 10 slot machines on a wall and five or six tables. Carly and Sue go off to play slot machines, my uncle hits the roulette table, and my grandpa hits the Craps table. My grandma and I hit the Black Jack table, I remember the chips keep on switching from little silver chips to big plastic chips, and the cards keep switching too. They go from normal cards to holographic shiny cards. I also remember using the wrong signal to hit, rather than stay. And I remember various drinks being but in front of me, clear liquids in shot glasses, that wasn't vodka, I don't know how I knew I wasn't vodka, but I assumed it was clear rum or tequila, but the only thing I remember tasting in something that tasted like hard lemonade. I remember eyeing a couple of Ashtrays on the table, needed a cigarette, and then a guy in a white cowboy hat lights a cigarette and I say "what a great idea." Then I wake up, from my desire to have a cigarette.

The point of writing about that dream, is that I desperately wanted to cling to that dream. I wanted nothing more than to be there, with family gambling the night away, with a bottomless drink and a pack of cigarettes. I tried to go back to sleep, I wanted so badly to go back to that little fantasy room, my happy place.

In high school, I lowered my expectations in life. I went from the naive hope of becoming a famous journalist with a Fraiser like apartment only in New York, to wanting nothing more than an apartment, a six pack and a game. Now I have the apartment, and my dream of a six pack and a game can be realized on any given weekend. Shouldn't I be happy that I achieved my dream?

How can I be, when I realize that if I achieved my watered down dream that I could have had that apartment in New York and the dream job of traveling the world in search of a story. I still love to write, but that's past me now. Why do I feel washed up at 20? Why have I lost hope when most people are at their most ambitous? Why am I waiting to die when everybody else my age is just starting out? Maybe it's because I see people my age already married and happy with kids. Even though I swore I would never have kids this early, I always thought I'd at least have a relationship or two by now. Instead I can count the number of girls I've kissed barely two hands, and the girls I've kissed in the past year on none.

I've had dreams lately of my family and I, that is my uncles family not my own, in a mall. There are variations, in one we're in a disney store circa 1978, in another we're in a shopping mall, but for some reason I think it's a tour of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. Now why would I have dreams of a shopping mall? I've looked in the dream dictionaries online and none of them mention shopping malls, or time travel (as the case of 1978.) Am I just weird, or is all of this connected? Goals achieved and constantly living in the past. Well that's why I had the dream about Disney store in 1978, it's because even on a concience level I realized that I was dwelling a lot in the past, and Disneyland is one of the things I was dwelling on, but not the major thing. And Hogwarts obviously because I'm re-reading the Harry Potter series. But I still don't understand why I'm dreaming of shopping malls and my uncle's family. Well I guess I won't figure that one out tonight, but I'll keep this window open in case I think of anything interesting.

For those of you who care, just a little update on my life. Completely pointless and entirely irrelivent to anybody but me, but the thing on my face popped so it doesn't have to be lanced! To Gabbie: Ha ha, I don't have to get my fact cut!!

Life in the pursuit of distraction, I'm bored with distraction. I live in a fantasy world occupied by video game pursuits of Superbowl championships, and the lives of young wizards. Of fighting evil and winning the game. I'm sick of fantasy, life isn't distraction in the endless pursuit of an end to undieing loneliness. There is nothing beyond the loneliness that I feel constricting every inch of my darkened soul. Soon there will be nothing left, and I'll still be alone. That's what it all comes down to: Nobody wants to die alone. I don't want to die alone, do you? Of course you don't, but you don't have to worry about that, it seems everyone out there has someone. It used to be easy to make myself feel better by saying: "there's somebody out there for everyone." When I was 15 or 16 that made me feel better, when I'm 20 it seems like there truly is no hope for me, and giving up seems easier and easier. But even giving up takes effort, planning etc. But I'll give myself until Dec. 31st, 2006 to find somebody or anybody. I seem to remember drinking in my new year this year making my final resolution to never spend another new year alone again. Well I'll give myself that deadline, beyond that, it's not up to me anymore. So I close my eyes one more time and pray to nothing that this will end. But for some reason, optimism seems futile, and futility the norm. This isn't great writing, but it's true to me, so who cares.

Oh sweet rage!
Devine Jelousy
Sacred Hate!
Happiness is
weakness,
contentment
the enemy
Desire,
Longing,
Pain!
Silence of the heart
Damned emotion
Cursed hope
Hidden cell
Within my soul
This is all I am

So I just got threatened at work for the first time. A guy told me that he's going to rip out my F*cking heart.

What's funny is that I've always laughed at people talking about threats, and I laughed on the surface, but that kind of affected me. Am I so cold hearted that I can laugh at somebody dyeing without a refridgerator, but so sensitive that when someone makes an arbitrary threat like he did that I get a little shaken up? Am I truly incapable of feeling emotion towards other people? I'm sure that's not the case, but being affected like I was with that guy. Ugh, maybe it's just that I'm tired. I'm really, really tired today, I stayed up till three last night, not really doing anything, well laundry and I woke up at 9:30. Maybe I'm just tired today, and being tired I'm actually affected by these pathetic peeons that call other pathetic peeons for trouble with appliances and other useless items. Maybe I'm caring, or not caring, or maybe I'm just too tired to care.

My uncle has always said that there's two sides to him. One that he shows people, the slightly wild but "normal" person, and the rebel raging inside, mad at the world. I always thought I had the same thing. I realized today that even though I have the same situation going, I let my angry side out way too much. And there is a specific story behind that, though for one reason or another I'm reluctant to write about it. But here it is:

I was sitting at my desk talking religion etc. With the redneck girl next to me, and for some reason, Charles Manson was brought into the conversation. I told her, I think he should write a book, and then she was all, "I feel sorry for you." So I told her, I don't want your sympathy.

Why do people feel sorry for me, I don't give a fu*k what other people think. Well at least I pretend to and I desperately don't want to care. Why don't I just clam up and learn to hate like I used to.

In high school I had such an idealized version of the world, well not idealized but clear. I used to hate people until they gave me a reason not to, I would rather be hated than ignored. I knew what I wanted and to hell with the rest of the world. Now after high school and a few more experiences, I thought I was maturing by learning to trust people unless the gave me a reason not to, etc. Even liking people unless the gave me a reason not to. I've been seeking approval from the world that shunned me for so long, and I ask myself, WHY?!?

Why do I need approval now from a world that has shunned me. I have a little success in life and I want a pat on the head and somebody to say good job? I never got that growing up, I didn't get it anywhere else in life, why do I want it now. The answer is simple, I DON'T!

Somehow my glasses have been tinted rose by vacation and success. Now that optimism has been sufficiently ripped away from me, and I see the world as the bleak and bitter excuse for life that it is.

It's occurred to me that Disneyland is in the past, and dwelling on the past isn't healthy. It also occurred to me that I've been dwelling in the past too much lately. Recently my life has been about dwelling in the lessons of past failures. Maybe because I feel to comfortable in my life right now. But it's not comfort that I feel, yeah I'm secure in a job and an apartment, but something's gnawing away at my sub-conscience again. And maybe it's been there for a while now because I'm just now starting to become aware of it. But I don't like being content. It's really as simple as that, if I'm not striving for something or struggling then life gets boring. And of course the real issue that I'm trying to avoid due to the fact that this blog is know to too many people is . . . well I just can't say right now. I want to say, but I feel putting it into words will somehow jinx it. Let it be sufficient to say that I spent 4-5 hours cleaning my apartment working towards an elusive goal that so far seems close but just out of reach. Alas how did I put it once: "boundless failures of past lives besiege me as I rest." Well I'm sick of being attacked by past failures, tonight, we Drink! (well rather I drink, but you get the point)