In my more lucid moments I have great ideas. I fear they will slip away because often when I’m ready to write they are no longer ready to be accessed from the top of my head. I think of the mind as stew of sorts. The deeper the pot goes the harder it is to access the deeper thoughts, but from time to time those thoughts bubble up to the surface and it’s time to grab spoon and start serving the genius down on paper. When those ideas sink again to the bottom sometimes fear they will never rise again thinking that it was a fluke that my assessment of its superiority was misplaced.

I had such an idea of relationships the other day. It was about our personal universe. How we seek people who can understand who we are. We surround ourselves with people who’s ideas are close enough to our own that we can. Race groups for instance will see the world in a way this is similar to each other. Men and women see the world differently and we cluster in our demographics, income, education, class, and political perspectives. But when we meet someone who’s got a special insight into who we care we’re drawn into them and we want even closer relationship than we have with friends and associates. Most of this is well know to most people, but the question that came to mind I had is why?

Why do we need people to validate us? Is it that our personal perspective is so fragile that we need other to support it? After all our minds are quite adaptive. Humans are unique in our ability to adapt to new environments. Maybe we need ither to feel stable, to feel like we no longer need to adapt. That we seek other for that sense of permanence which is so lacking in the world. Be my rock, my chelter from the reality which says “this too shall pass” it is both comfort and chaos. Constant change isn’t consistency.

15 minutes of mania a day isn’t going to cut it. I know that writing like this is probably only fooling myself but in my mind run a never cesing line of thought that serve me no good. Last tune was the first time that I did this. It was and interesting experiment and I discovered a lot. One is that there is a lot of junk up in my head that I suppose is no revelation, but that after a short time writing has a way of buring that junk away to find some true gems. Is this why some of the best writers are manic depressives? Maybe it is their way to cope with the voices in their head.For me it is the only way I can deal withem and maybe I too can find some relief and clarity by writing.

So what is on my mind. Right now it is acceptance on the web. I was thinking about the sex sites like Adam for Adam and BGC chat and how perverse those sites can be. I don’t know why I am on those sites. I know it’s because I want to find someone who will love me the way I want to be loved, but I can’t really find that in a place devoted to hocking up. It makes no sense, but there are times when you meet someone just in that way. Today I saw someone online Lee someone I’ve known online for sometime who has a rather vulgar ad on Adam but who I know to be a thoughtful person. What does that say about all the other people I find on the site could they be nice people in disguise or am I just kidding about Lee?

Also why am I ashamed of my own beliefs? I think I might hyst be an atheist. I know this to be the case in fact I have known for some time that I don’t believe the bible to be true in fact I find the whole thing to be a joke. I used to be able to listen to the stories and think that I could learn something from them, and I suppose I can but then I think of all the people around me who take these things said to be the truth and it makes me want to cry for them. How is it that these nice and intelligent people believe this crap when it is so obviously a lie? On the other hand I have felt the need to be a part of that community and cannot begrudge them the need to be a part of it as well. They are after all, good people.

And what about my inability to find a job and to do with my life what I know I need to do. I can’t seem to just get online and make the necessary calls need to make my job serch a priority. I have to call up the department of Labor and try to find a job. It’s not going to be easy I know that much I can go ahead and enroll in school but this whole thing is a joke claiming to have gone to Albany State when I haven’t and it’s just got to give I know if I want to lie about it anymore, but at the same time I don’t want to tell the truth. It was a lot easier when I was working to claim that what I was doing was good after all I was working and I had a pay check, but now I have no excuse and I’m jobless/

What is holding me back from doing the workout that I know I should be doing. I know that I have the dumbbells and I may not have the bench but I can make something work here in the hose so that I am doing some weight training. I will go to Darton this fall forget trying to maintain the lie about Albany State and get my associate’s degree and get to use the gym in the meantime. The vitamins come tomorrow which is defiantly a good thing. I love thinking about how they are helping me even if I know most of them are going d

My lifeis that of someone who’s not allowed to speak. It’s not that anyone is stopping me it’s that what I have to say is not something polite society wants to hear. And so I find myself writing in these pages. I hate myself. I don’t want to hate myself but I do and it makes me hate myself even more. Can you imagine each day of your life being worse than the next and having no way of stopping it? Sometimes it gets better but then I realize that it is only an illusion. When the down times come I just sit in my room and sulk. I may read a book sometimes and pretend that I don’t hate my life. But most time the illusion I create breaks and reality comes flooding in. SO what’s the point of these words? There words are an attempt to make sense of those times I feel like this, my dark days.

So I want to be a writer. I have an imagination like no one else I know. My dreams are like mvies, good vibrant movies that speak to me in ways I know others would like. But I can’t seems to get into the state of mind to sit down and work out a time to put them down on paper to put them in a form so the rest of the work and see what a genious I am. Of course at times I think that this sort of genious isn’t real that nothing I see in my head is going to make me money or happy ( the two are hard to tell apart) but I want to make sometime that makes people like me makes people see that I have some worth. I need proof that my life is worth being here and I currently am grasping for that proof. These stories in my mind I think they would be that proof I’m seeking so I’m starting now again on a quest to unlock my mind’s potential if only for a little while.

15 minutes of mainia is what I can call it to just let loose make my fingers move to write as much as I can in that time span abdn then try to work out what is I saying. I know that there’s a chracter in my head much like myself. A broken man. A depressed man who wants to contribute to the world with his skills but doesn’t know how he can/ Mitch. He needs help from his friend, his imaginary friend who’s going to come to his resure and give him his first investigory case since his shooting. He’s going to drag him on his way to discoving that his life has worth and maybe at the the same time he will show me that my life has worth too.

As far as the exercise routine is going I’m not sure that my mind is made up on how to lose weight best. I took pictures the other day and I’m fat again. I couldn’t believe my own eyes it looks like I’ve gained weight. But in a way I knew this was the case I just didn’t know how bad it was. I could go back to the gym. I know I need to but there isn’t anything there waiting for me. I can’t get there without a ride and it’s too hot to walk. There isn’t any hope on that front, but I could find a way to to do some workouts at hone I do have some dumbbells and I am planning on going back to school in the fall and that is where I could get back my mojo in the gym find a way to lose weight and stegthen my mind at the same time I just have to start here at home while I have the time to mess around

Also there’s this family reunion called my grandma’s birthday. I feel so inadiquite because I have no life. Everyone there is going to have stories about how they are moving forward with his or her life and all I can say is that I’m still here. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that. I don’t know if I can make it. I’m scared because my brother is an ass and will point out how much my life sucks tell me to get it together