Wheels of ideas

Let us not be crazy. For the lord says, if you're a butt-fucking psycho, thou shalt not waste time on frivolous matters. Open up your mind, and let the hate out. Just a few journal entries that don't have to make sense. Don't have to focus. It doesn't matter what you type about, just as long as you make your ideas heard.

A wheel of ideas! That's what needs to be done. No matter what you're writing, have yourself a wheel of ideas. I used to write with one idea in mind: Money. It's so simplistic to think that money is the only motivator in these matters. Obviously, you have to be good at what you do. You have to make sense. You have to stay on topic. So many topics. So many horrible ideas. People think that life is all about one identity. People are more complex than that. Focus is not always so easy to come by. That's all that I'm saying.

I'm dealing with so many unusual circumstances in my life. One of them has to do with what I call "the California situation." There are some truly awful people in the world. My awfulness is not hidden behind a shroud of smiles though. It's not. I will blatantly say that I hate children. They're awful things. Repulsive critters. Unfortunately, I have one. What can you do?

A Million Dollars

If I had a million dollars, what would I do? Besides pay off child support all at once? Would I move to another state? Would I get a degree from Harvard? maybe.

I think I would write books. I would stay at home, and write books after getting a doctorate in philosophy from Harvard. That's it. I can still do that. I can do what I need to do. I mean, why not? It's a bit backwards, but I'm going to have to work for it first.

Positive Self talk

Positive self talk. That's what journals are all about, right? I'd like to think so. I can't imagine it any other way. What's hard about my current situation, is that I'm not morally allowed to forget that I have a baby. She'll just go around eating poison and knives, and poisonous knives, while I'm doing my work, and I would forget. I fear that I would forget about her.

I can't afford to pay for some sort of daycare. It's counter-intuitive. So, what am I going to do? I ask myself this question constantly. Maybe the question should be, where's the motivation? It's not even that. It's the fact that my baby is biting me right now. WTF.

Talkin' Shit

I'd like to say that I've become a decent writer. Just decent. Not the best, not the worst, but you get the gist. I need a place to organize my thoughts, and as I may have mentioned in other posts, I think this is it. This is the site where I can just let my ideas flow, and not a soul will read them. At least not anyone that I know personally. There are but a few people in this world who I would care as to whether they read my journal here or not. A tiny handful in an ocean of people. Really though, even if one of these few people read what I've written here, I could probably explain why I wrote what I wrote.

Sometimes, I just need a place where I can be offensive. Shit, if I wrote some of this crap out on Facebook, do you know how many people would try to light me on fire? Probably one or two, but that's not the point. I want to be able to say things like "I reached out to a bitch I knew from high school a couple months, and you know what happened? She talked some shit about me not loving my daughter enough just because I said I didn't like it when she bites me." I mean, my daughter's teething, but that doesn't mean that I don't love her. I was just trying to reach out.

Now if I post that on Facebook, the bitch that I knew from high-school would get all pissy, and throw a hissy fit. Damn. Things you wish you could say. I also want to be able to bitch about my baby's mama in California, but that's not considered classy, in addition, I'm trying to keep it a secret, because I'm embarrassed that I ever slept with that human piece of garbage. Not that anyone would get upset about me posting about her, but still, it's better not to talk shit.

Thoughts on Child Support

What does being bored mean? Does it mean that everything around you is as good as it's going to get? Does it mean that you have a second or two to relax? I don't know that it does. To me, it means daydreaming. I've been thinking about what I would do if I had a job as a translator. Easy, mindless, but tough work. So, I'd have a job, and that's great and all, but then what? Could I somehow bring about attention to the fact that I was raped in California, but now I'm being forced to pay for it? Would it matter if I did?

Bringing attention to a cause is all fine and dandy, but how does such a thing change it? Even if I were famous or something, could I change the reality that society overlooks the fact that men can be raped by women? And assuming I have a job where I can build up the money to pay off all this child support, isn't it just a little fucked up that I may never see this child?

What would be the best way to get justice in this situation? Hire someone to kill Shannon? That would cost equal to, if not more than, just paying the child support in the first place. If she dies of natural causes, and I somehow get full custody of this kid, I'm going to let my lesbian friends adopt him. Just saying.

So what would I do with a job, and money? How could I pay for justice with that money? I'll buy my son a house! Brilliant. Does one really buy justice though? It's hard to determine that. My idea is to fix my life and let him see how great things can be, and what a horrible shitty person his mom is in comparison.

How single guys think about women

Thinking about my life. If I had the steady stream of income that I'm about to have, I want to imagine who I would be happiest sharing my life with. Would it be my current lesbian girlfriend? Would I somehow encourage Kelly to fall in love with me, ditch Shaun, come live with Miranda and I, then get married? I somehow think that is possible, but I feel like I would be fucking over Shaun. I mean, he's a cool guy. Would I choose Kristi, whom I feel is a good person at heart, but went down the wrong life path? I suppose I feel the same way about Andrea, though. They both have bad teeth. That's the sign of a drug user, bad teeth. Ah yes, and let's not forget Emily in Idaho. Fuck Idaho. Would I be able to talk her into moving to Florida? Probably not.

Let's say I chose.....my Victoria. She is sort of my current girl. So what then? Do I trust her? Sarah on the other hand, not as good looking, but certainly more sane. I feel like I'm pushing just to talk to her though. Theoretically, Sarah is the best and safest option here, although Kelly would make sense if she weren't pretty much married. I know I couldn't pull her away from Shaun. They're on the cusp of getting married. I'm friends with them both. They would be the best couple to hang with if Kat were still around. Hell, I wouldn't want anyone if she were still around. Only her. I'd probably be married right now.

But now I'm stuck in this awkwardness of finding a woman. Or third option here, should I go on POF and search for a new girl altogether? Fourth option: psycho Shannon. Ha! that shit will never happen. So, I've narrowed it down. Sarah, Kelly, or Victoria. How 'bout this option: You get your shit together, then look for a woman. Or, you can get your shit together, move in with Victoria, and start a family. That seems like a mistake though. Kelly really is the perfect woman, so I think I want to get my shit together, talk to her, then let her be my inspiration to find a perfect match. Because ideally, you want a girl just like her. (cute, nerdy, wants to start a business, likes babies enough to know how to take care of them but is not psycho about it, and SINGLE!) That's the only issue. That last piece of the puzzle. That's ok though, Kelly is inspirational, cause you know there's a single version of her out there somewhere.

Expanding Minds

I got some writing to do, but again, my head is everywhere. I've pretty much been using this journal to clear my thoughts, and I've learned that writing is like a muscle. If you use it a lot, it gets nice and strong. Strong like a dick. You want that writing muscle to tear up the "pussy" that is your audience's mind. Fucking Pound It!

Doesn't really matter though. I want to be persuasive! I want to use my words to convince some of these mother fuckers that I am right (even if I'm wrong.) This is going to be my shout out to all those who think I have no power. Women love men who are good at whatever the fuck it is that they do. Whether it's body building, serial killing, beer drinking champion, or fishing, Women want a professional. Doesn't really matter what that profession is. For me, it's expanding minds.

Expanding minds, and wasting time. It probably seems as though I'm on drugs, but you know what, that doesn't matter. I am on some stimulants, thanks for asking, but it's something that I need. If I weren't on something, I wouldn't be able to get anything done. Plus I'm just testing out this other keyboard. What can I say, it's a nice keyboard. I have a feeling Stephen King gets tons of pussy just for being the world's best horror author, just saying. That's what this last paragraph is though, just testing out this keyboard. Sweet.

tenacity of the gods

I think writing clears my head a bit. Imagine if you will, a giant cloud that is constantly enveloping your brain when you have to do something important. Which for me, important things need to be done all the time.

Homework for example. That's important if you want to pass a class. I really don't care much about school. My thing is, that I'd like to be a writer. I want to expell what's in my head onto some paper, and hope that people catch my drift. It should be a compulsion of everyone to be great. Focus is what I believe makes a person great. Anyone who has focus has my attention. I want to focus on music. And writing. Writing music. That's a thing. Shit, it's tough to have that kind of tenacity. I think it can be done though. I've talked about motivation before. I think with all the shit that is currently happening, I have all the motivation I need.

Working on It

I have trouble focusing on one thing. It's been quite awhile since I've written here, but I have a feeling that it will help. The clouds in my brain have never really gone away.

I have this essay that I keep putting off. Something about George Orwell and how his experience of shooting an elephant relates to something shitty that you've done in your life. Not an easy thing to write about. Well, I gotta start somewhere.