notes

4/21/94
Writing:

I will begin this writing with an emotional feeling. Strong emotions seem to be dictating my thoughts at this time. I can just see the beginning of it's roots. There is a definite answer. I am aware of the feeling of complete and utter frustration. It feels like trying to escape from something that's not really
real. Like something is waiting just around the corner saying "I'm gonna get him. Ha!"

I'll let it go at that. It's completely retarded and unproductive anyway. It's a miracle isn't it? Just one slip is all it takes to take you completely off your feet. I know what the problem with these people is. Society just doesn't have the answers. You have to look within yourself and you will notice
that the question you have been asking is all knotted up like a pretzel. There is no ground level communication going on. Even at it's most primitive level, thought control is completely out of the question. That's like trying to tie a string around the sun. It just doesn't work.

I begin to ask myself questions like. Where do I start from? Will I ever be able to sort through this mess?These questions become incredibly absurd and meaningless in the light of the fact. There's no sense in picking apart something you have no business with in the first place, but somehow we manage to stick our
nose into everyone's business. This seem s wrong to me. I want to grow. I don't want to be left out in the cold. I want to use up my resources and then extinguish myself like a candle. Somehow, I never really got that far. The problem has been looking me straight in the face this whole time. I simply have never been
able to get a firm grip on it. When it comes to solving everyday problems I am very intuitive and almost a genius at certain levels, yet there is this nagging feeling that the problems that I cannot seem to solve were very simple to begin with. You know, like who the hell is that guy? Somehow that goes straight to the
nerve like a magnet. Something to do with society, but I am almost free anyway so I guess it doesn't really matter. The really great thing about being a writer is that I enjoy it so much that it doesn't even really seem like work.