You know, quick decisions well made are the most important thing in the world. And the only way you can make them is to rely on emotion. There are reasons that we feel the way we do. Reason can mislead you. God knows that words can mislead you but your gut, if nothing else, represents all the experiences you've had. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to pitch emotion or anything; Custer knew in his gut that Indians always run away. He'd always been right before. But this is turning from profound to bullshit so I'll get to the business in hand, recording my life experiences.
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Now, for me, this is really a time of trying to find a career. I once held a job as a bag boy at a grocery store. I was horrible at it but I always smiled and was polite. This made me well liked among my co-workers and my job was fully secure. But I quit the job after saving up about $8,000. I was going to make it in "business!" Well, I still could if those corporate monkeys would give me a shot.
You know, in a high-school business class, we had an assignment to come up with a new product. Well my product was pop with vitamins and minerals. Now, who did that lately? Seven-Up but they did it wrong. I specifically said in my presentation that you had to use real sugar. Now, everybody I've talked to hates the new Seven-Up because it uses Splenda which tastes like "%^@!." Now, I predict that it will fail. It's true that there are a lot of dumb people out there or why else would Splenda exist but these corporations should really try to appeal to people's better instincts sometimes. There's a lot of moral profundity tied up with sugar-less Seven-Up, let me tell ya.
Anyhow, my parents came over today to talk about my schooling, money, and my career thoughts. But we didn't talk about anything; we couldn't get ourselves to start talking honestly about things. Why? Well, I'm not real sure. But I couldn't and they couldn't either. But they restored my spending money on the condition that I don't spend it on weed or alcohol. And, right now, I'm not inclined to. I want to make something of my life and it's going to take discipline and sound strategy. This is no time for luxuries.
Also, I've been lap swimming and that's been a lot of fun. I love lap swimming. Being around water really helps me think and it uplifts my creative spirit. If this society had given me leadership responsibilities and let me hang around pools and jacuzzis, drinking Margaritas and smoking weed, I could have made such intelligent, creative decisions that I would have produced billions upon billions of dollars. But, no, the people we keep as leaders aren't good for "$%^!" And me, they keep me for a crimminal.
You know, I'm keeping these journals and someday I'm going to release them under the title: "Go %$^& Yourself: The Autobiography of Sean Lawlor Nelson" How do you like that? But I am; you'll see.
Now, for more direct info, I've been thinking about how the bloody hell I'm going to make a living. I could be a high school English teacher; that's what I planned to before I was raped by my girlfriend, the police and the legal system. But I can still do it; I'd have to go to a two-year, instead of a one-year, teaching school but, hell, I could use the time anyhow. You know there's this John Gorka song that goes: Give me time to wander and to dream; I call that an even scheme." Well, those are true words; I'll drink to em.
Or, I could join the Navy as an officer. This legal bull-shit could block that, too. You see, people don't realize how much damage a little crimminal prosecution can do. That's why it's a really crime that most D.A.s run things in such a thoughtless way. They have an awesome moral responsibility and malicious mis-handling of it deserves... $%^&*6%$@!#)++++
Now, this is not of so much interest to me but it may interest my readership. The other week, my schizo brother brought by this friend of his, along with another who I don't like. This guy seemed nice enough; he was kind of a shy kid. They were hitting me up for weed and I smoked em out: why not!? But this kid kind of annoyed me, honestly, in the way he asked to be smoked out. If you're going to ask something, come out with a little assertiveness and ask for it. Diminishing the thing, or asking shyly, is often a way of dodging the responsibility that your request entails. If someone asks me for a favor, fine, but that entails the responsibilities of friendship. Squirells are shy but I don't do them any favors. A real man should shoot straight, talk straight and look other men right in the eyes. I'm just kidding about that John Wayne bullshit.
But, there's some truth in it, there's no avoiding conflict in this world. I've done a lot of dodging. I turn movies off when they get hairy. I hate ackwardness. But you know, what I should hate is lies, not ackwardness. Struggle is an essential part of this world, of any world, but especially of this world, which is a wretched one.
Oh yeah, I forgot my point. Just a week later, that shy kid was hacked to death with a butcher knife by some girl he was banging. I guess by brother was banging her to. I don't know any of the details. Apparently, my brother was banging the broad, too, and he said that when he was having sex with her sometimes she'd "try to slap or scratch" him. That is not my kind of bitch. But murder is not very common in this mediocre tourist city fittingly known as "Ashland." It was the first murder in eight years.
Well, as Tom Petty says, "It might mean something to you but it ain't nothing to me." I'm fighting for life myself; I don't have time for shy kids who get hacked to death. Shit, I hope I don't get haunted for saying all this. I still have the stool he sat on. I had a perfectly good bean bag and he sat on this grungy little stool. Now, never sit on a grungy little stool; Just look what can happen to ya.