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11:14 p.m. / May 16, 2005 - - a christian co-worker today made fun of my buddhist books

three days in a row off of work. it's a fucking miracle. 18th-20th, and every day it feels more and more like a crypt, that place, the dank rotting floors and the same stiffs hanging around me. i'm lucky to make it out alive. i've never liked writing for the sake of writing. i think that most people arrest their development at the age of fifteen. getting drunk, getting by, getting stoned, living irresponsibly. i'm not talking about the second mortgage car-payment taxes kind of responsibility, because these people, though they're forty-something fifteen-year-olds, they do those things. live through dull repetitive days at work, buy new cars, file their taxes, take two week vacations to the pristine segments of third-world countries. i'm talking about personal responsibility, the responsibility to look inside oneself and ask, "am i living a good life? is what i'm doing right? am i really happy with where i am or have i just lied to myself for so long that it has become my truth?" and these questions, they're tough ones to come up to, to search for answers towards. so why bother? we're shown at an early age that thinking is a buzzkill. if you think too much, life will not be as good. do not think. just buy. outdo your friends. get good grades. go to college. get a job. make something of yourself. i plan to make something of myself, and i don't need a new boat or designer clothes or a college degree to do it. what i need, what i really need, is

i don't know. what do i need? not this computer. not cigarettes. not a job. not a car. not cd's. it's so much easier to list what i don't need. i need some kind of clarity, some kind of understanding. need water. food. shelter. love. need peace. i guess i'm going to die. hang my head. look at the keyboard. neck hurts. eyes are watery. taking the first step is the hardest part. look out for number one. don't look a gift horse in the mouth. the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

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