I don’t feel that I’ve developed properly

Writing to Ashley tonight I imagined her in her room, reading my message on her computer, and I began to envision the entire spectrum of Biddle hall, life there. I had such an opportunity, and I wasted it. It would have been easy enough to do well in my classes; then I could be living with Ashley and working toward that all-important college degree. A certain future would have awaited me if I had applied myself to any field, and I could have made time to advance myself in the ways that I wanted, writing, filmmaking, computer science. I have been given creativity, intelligence, and a healthy body, and my will has not lived up to the task of the steward. It is small detail that I just received email notification that my loan disbursements went through—I would have been allowed to attend school this quarter. I am emotionally ripped apart, from my floundering and failure. I am mad at myself for not being appreciative of what opportunities I have, for not acting as though the present contributes to an overlasting life. I have no sense that I am working on a complete, unified whole; I don’t feel that I have anything to look forward to. I am almost totally spiritually dead.

I don’t feel that I’ve developed properly, don’t feel that I’ve grown into being as I should be at this age. I feel sick and wrong, and I don’t know what to do. My parents love me, but their advice more often condescends and pities than moves me forward. I have a twisted view of things, and I realize that if a million dollars and a college degree fell into my lap right now I would be just as sick and twisted. My attitude is all wrong, my pattern of life not life-giving. I am void of peace and satisfaction, void of love, patience, creative excitement, a feeling of safety and security; I am bored and unresourceful, negative, dark, weak, seeing no possibility and feeling no freedom. I hurt tremendously, feel unloved. Julian and I have both grown weary, and I sense that Ashley is weakened by this latest turn. My parents are falling apart, my sisters are falling apart, and I ended up back home, in this house, with dealings interpersonal destructive. This is a place I should not be. I felt out of place at Ohio University; I feel out of place here. My parents’ love, which I thought was constant, has been irrevocably broken. I am incensed at that, and I feel I should be able to turn with my grievance to a higher power…but none is present. I can pray to the invisible mystery of God, but does no close, touchable, immediate love exist? I always found that in my parents; no more. I have grown up, waken from my dreams, to find my parents’ bed empty. The world of my consciousness is desolate; no comfort exists for such sorrow.

I write this solely for myself, because I have no one to talk to. Formerly I would refuge with my parents in such a case; no longer.

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I don’t feel that I’ve developed properly

I invite belief in the mysterious back into my life.

If I ever needed to pray, that would be now. I left college and I have no other plan at this point; I am apart from my girlfriend Ashley. It is late at night and tiredness enables a negative attitude…belief is a comfort I desire. And one I will afford myself, tonight I submit myself to beliefs and trust, in the unknown.

I invite belief in the mysterious back into my life.

I invite belief in the mysterious back into my life.

Chris Jackson is a true friend

Chris Jackson has made me feel wonderful; this is a true friend. We have talked about my parents dissolution, my place in life (college, …) and she has presented a place for comfortable discussion of these. Thank you to her…and I deem that a belief in God of some sort is necessary for success—a belief in something powerfully loving and overriding. Belief is what is necessary—solid, unquestioning belief in something positive, in my case, that things will work out, that things and events have meaning and are purposeful, that I will attain that which I desire. I love being related to people like Chris Jackson, people who encourage me and love me and make me know that life is okay. I pray that I will be that person to others.

Chris Jackson is a true friend

Having worked himself into a prison

I’ve had the wrong attitude. I woke up this morning, after sleeping in too late for about the third week in a row. I realize that I’m failing my classes, and that no matter what you’re doing, it sucks to fail. Better to succeed at something [stupid] than to fail at it. I’ve been taking what life has given me and throwing it away. The maxim is to do miracles with whatever life throws your way; I’ve been shitting on it. My beliefs are all wrong. I’ve been believing that there’s no purpose, no meaning. I need a way to deal with actuality that is consistent with my thoughts on God. It doesn’t matter what you’re working for, you’ve just got to make your actions form a consistent whole; that is right and beautiful, everything else is perverse. Live ecologically, make your live a perfectly functioning system. I see a similarity between my current state and the master criminal. Much smarter than those around him but having worked himself into a prison, he is slave to that which has less sense than he. That’s this whole game thing to me : instead of attempting to play my own game by first rejecting others’ games (and losing at them) I see that I must first win at all the other games, make them like part of taking a step…something easy, something I have mastered. Then I can them like pieces in a Lego construction, play the world like a chess grand master in a world of two-year-olds.

I’m nineteen. Let’s get started. I want to plan out what I will have accomplished by the time I’m 30. Life is short.

I want to become, and be recognized as, a master writer. I want to put to shame the greatest screenplays, the greatest novels. I want to be exalted above Shakespeare.

I want to become, and be recognized as, a business genius. This is the Monopoly part. I want to play the world like Monopoly, only not (mostly) for self-gain. I want to learn to understand how the transfer of power takes place in this world, and I want to use that knowledge to alter people’s lives, make people feel better about themselves, feel more fulfilled, be more alive.

I want to live a life of personal fulfillment for the next ten years of my life. I want to personally be happy and satisfied. I want to have created, loved, been loved, built relationships, etc. I want to personally be happy.

Okay, this is a general idea. Let’s boogie. Let’s get moving. Let’s learn to dance. Create rather than follow. Like Anthony Robbins says, don’t get caught in the trap of making a living when you could be designing a life.

Having worked himself into a prison

Needing to take control of my life.

Yearning to realize the dreams Ashley, Julian, and I have set for ourselves. Wanting to struggle and relax. Listening to my hallmates shout obscenities at their own echoes in the bathroom and reacting with a quiet stance, inward focusing reflection. As often as these currents tend to make me feel insane, it is true that my state is transcendent sanity, certainness, sensefulness. It just looks funny next to the other. Responding to my question of what my talent is, what I do, my insinuation that I really do nothing, my mother said “I think you’ll be surprised when you find out what it is that you do.” Suggesting that I already do something, and that that something is good. I told her not to tell me then, so that when I discovered it, it would be a surprise. I’d almost like to call her now (11:15 p.m.) and ask her what it is. What was in the suitcase? What’s in the bag?

I had sex with Ashley tonight.

Needing to take control of my life.