Here there be monsters (socratic) wrote,
Here there be monsters

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Lord knows I try to be good, I'd keep my promises if only I could

Well my far-roaming friend is safe and sound in his own bed tonight, for all none of you who were concerned. (And in a thousand homes across America, the sound of thousands of people not giving a shit reverberates as one.) He had a grand adventure of the globe-trotting movie glorified variety and has come back to regale the locals with wild stories of reckless abandon, gorgeous easy women, and corrupt police officers. That's right he was in Downtown Trenton all along!

But his trip does bring to mind the age old question. Is sorry really all that worse than safe? I mean he threw it all to the wind and went tromping off to parts unknown armed with neither guide nor language and ready to confront the whims of fate with nary a piece of gortex between his tender flesh and its harsh bite. On the one hand it seems kind of foolish to make such a decision without careful forethought and to expose oneself to that kind of danger and possible misfortune without contingency plans in place, but on the other hand if you spend your youth building castles to protect you you might find the drawbridge rusted shut when you want to get out.

Is letting go of everything just for the experience worth the risk? Is building a solid, logical, safe future worth the missed opportunities? Do these questions have answers? I used to think I had what it took to drop away from safe and head out into the great unknown, a ronin writer with nothing more than a trust fund, a thousand stories boiling in my brain, and a shitty attitude. But I balked at the precipice and at my mother's disparagement and it cost me about a year of recovery time before I could even poke my head out from the ruins again and try to rebuild some confidence. The fucked up thing is that I never even REALLY tried, it was just my failure TO try that resulted in my melt down. So now I walk the straight and narrow, eyes to the front left right left, no cutting in line, express lane 10 items of emotional baggage or less.

But the wild still calls and it turns out that the road to good intentions is paved in BORING. I started this journal as a place that I could express myself and see if anyone responded to what I had to say, and some people HAVE responded. It hasn't exactly been a tidal wave, but it's been a few and that makes me wonder what I could do without the constraints of telling the story of my life and the neccesary self censorship that comes with writing something that is ADMITADLY about yourself. Would I be able to write something I could finally be proud of or would I make like Dale Earnhardt and eat a wall? I can honestly say that I don't know. What I do know is that I'm not satisfied with just doing well in school and not engaging it and I want to change something. This trip my friend took reinforced that, he basically said "fuck the rules" and went out to look for what he wanted most (in his case it was pussy, but let's not get into tHAT argument) And he ended up happy about it. He gambled and won. And maybe it's about time that I take more of a gamble than just halfheartedly asking some chick out for coffee. Maybe I should shake some shit up, pull out the old Devil May Care take your fucking quiz and shove it up your ass Miss Macnaly Ben and see what he wants to do.

Maybe Maybe Maybe

ButI am somewhat comfortable and happy where I am now. Roll the dice or just make nice? It's a question I should give more thought to. I don't really want to be Mr. Conventional so I'm gonna have to jump the proven track at some point, the question is when. Before or after the degree?

Decisions Defuckingcesions.

Oh yeah and my mom is having a Brunch tomorrow with a bunch of South Africans which she didn't bother to tell me about till today, meaning I have no escape plans made yet. That sucks. I hate having old annoying women in this house. Nothing much I can do about it though, except make mommy dearest's life suck so she knows not to pull this shit without warning again. Not that I don't think she should have brunches, but her having brunches is always about how I have to clear all my stuff out of the house and put my exercise bike in my room etc, so it's a MASSIVE irritant.

I wonder if I'm hitting a sharp crest now. That would suck as I have nothing important going on for the next couple days. I don't want to be hyper and brilliant and BORED. It's not a funky fresh combo.
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