journal 8/22

I was trying to sleep when I got an urge to journal. You know, this
guy Travis stole my cds and my pot pipe about six months ago. It was
right when I'd been out of jail for a while and I was enjoying a little
freedom. And this bastard walked into my house and stole my cds. I had
so many great cds. I miss Tom Petty "Full Moon Fever," The Verve Pipe
"Villains," but most of all, I miss my classical cds. I had about
thirty classical cds. They were mine and he took them. God I would like
to unload on the SOB. Often, when I'm in a peaceful mood, I feel like
listening to Mozart or Schubert or Beethoven and I can't because he
stole them. I called the cops and they didn't do anything. They never
do anything when they're needed. All they do is enforce conformity, not
preserve true law or order. Fawn and the police have hounded me ever
since I got to SOU. They have illegally and immorally taken advantage
of me. The truth of the matter is that they've stolen my college years
from me. I have upper-middle class parents that were willing to send me
to college. That's all I had. I don't think I can make it in this
capitalist society and I don't know if I have a future. But I had these
college years and they took them from me. I only have two terms left.
All I ask is that people leave me alone. I have my apartment. It's a
nice apartment. I have my books. I know how to make something of life.
I meditate. I drink tea, coffee, whatever. I wish people would leave me
alone, stay away from this apartment. I'm entirely sober right now and
I know this all sounds insane but I have been very wronged.
On another note, I worked for the college literary journal for a term.
Now, my job was to look through poetry and select the poems that I
thought deserved deeper consideration. Anyway, it was a boring
experience. I only came across one, maybe two works that I consider
good. But I came across this poem about a smoker, a man who made
decisions. The interesting about it is that at the time I rejected it.
I didn't think anything of it. But it's been two years now and I keep
thinking back to that poem. It was about a man who made difficult
decisions and he smoked. It was very well written, actually. I think it
was titled: "The Smoker."