journal 12/10/04

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.
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 this shit. 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.