People write when they are unhappy more than they are happy. Life, to me, seems like serving a lifelong, mandatory community-service sentence. The real bitch of it all is that I’m the guy who got mixed up in the middle of the action and am now going along with the ride. I didn’t ask for this! It took me years to figure out how I got to where I am. I tried asking my parents, and they told me a fucking bird dropped me off and never went into detail! Where did the bird get me from? Huh?
It wasn’t until 12, 13 years into this whole goddamn ordeal that I began to understand what happened before I came along. I’m trying to catch up on 13.7 billion years of history, while looking ahead into the future that I cannot see, and trying to keep everything together in the meantime. This system doesn’t work. The human being, on its own, is a weak and worthless lump of flesh. We differ from other animals by our complex communication system, language, and by our ability to reason. Reason, however, seems to be used only when demanded. Not when necessary, not when available, but when required. Humans are strong in packs, that we know. What is a civilization but a pack of humans pitting themselves against another pack of humans? But the other humans, they’re from the other side of the tracks, so to speak. They aren’t the same as us—even though we, in the group, are all different—they are far worse than beasts and a danger to us. Let’s get rid of them!
Kids, from my experience with them, seem to naturally join up with one another. They play with each other, and that’s what cooperation is, playing. Kids pass a soccer ball to each other, adults have to forward emails to each other. Same interaction, but kids laugh more and adults worry more. No one taught us how to deal with life when we were growing up. We heard about the real world, sure, but we were always away from it as if it were the deep-end of the pool in the game of life. Yet, here I am now, treading water just to stay afloat while I should be swimming, or better yet, sailing. How do you teach people to think for themselves, and not just problem solving, but thinking for themselves with vigor in their thought. There is a looming sense of lethargy above us all. Why do we need to work? Someone else will do it if I don’t. Why should I do anything at all? I am quite replaceable. I know I am. Now, how do I become unique?
Unique? Wait a minute… that means different! You’ve worked so hard to fit in with all the rest, why do you want to stand out now? Is it because The Great Masses of the People are not as ambitious as you are? Or is it because they were not clever enough to succeed? Or did they never get that luck? People are afraid of things that are unusual or different. Anything that goes against the norm, whatever rubs them the wrong way. To me, society seems like a giant made of gears, and all of us do our one thing just like all the others in order to keep this machine moving. That’s a role, a petty part, told by a fool, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing (thanks Shakespeare).
When I fit in, I want to kill myself. When I stand out, I realize how lonely life can be, and it kills me. Why is it so wrong to simply say, “Thank you, but I’m not interested,” and hang yourself just as we hang up on telemarketers? The world is not run optimally, and why is that? Can’t humans agree that efficiency is a good thing? We all love the remote control, that’s made things more efficient, now why can’t we cooperate with each other? People are dishonest, people are shallow, people are cruel, people are selfish, people are human-all-too-human. They are the problem, but they are also the solution. I need to open my eyes, find that vision of tomorrow, and lead others to it: prosperity!
Prosperity… Anitra had that word tattooed on her back in Japanese, prosperity. I wonder about her, I wonder about her a lot these days. Four years ago is now a blink of the eye, and I have lost my goals from that era. I loved her, I really did. I think I could have married her and been happy, but that’s all speculation now. She’s moved on, and I’ve grudged on, and neither one of us is the same from that time. But those five months, those great five months in 2004… nothing has been as bright since. You know why you failed, you ran out of steam. You ran out of steam because you never told her what you were thinking about. She wanted to know what you were thinking about, how honest can a person be? We all want to know what others are thinking about. I’m still thinking about her, and wondering what she’s thinking about. Bitter irony, forevermore. I chose the kitchen over her, and soon enough, I would leave the kitchen, too.
My time at Collin College is overdone. I have my associate’s, and I’m embarrassed when I tell a person that’s all I have. If I am smart, why can’t I comply with the system? I fucking hate the system. Everything seems so simple in theory, but in practice everything seems so drudgery. My ambition has been ambiguous for so long that I don’t even remember what it once was. I wanted to be the greatest chef in the world. I wanted to cook food that no one ever tasted before; I wanted people from far and wide to come eat at my restaurant. But I’d rather be rich. Where does an entrepreneur go for fame? The pack of wolves will eat everything before you get there. “Nothing’s impossible, you just have to find it from within you,” I remember writing that down in fifth grade. I wanted to fly and leave the school, I didn’t like the other kids my age. I never have liked people my age, I realize. I like the older generations for their wisdom, and I like the younger generations because they are innocently ignorant. Kids have so much potential, but they’re so difficult to communicate with.
