I love this little laptop

[soldatdahimsa]

ok so im home for fall break. *spins imaginary party rattler* im home for my mom and sisters birthday party so today we went to chuck e cheese and damn. i raped me some kiddie games. dont even try to test me in some whack a mole or ski ball. ill cut you so bad, you wish i not cut you so bad. so after i spent 20 bucks worth of tokens and 500 tickets later, we redeemed the coupons for this shitty standard made in china pos which we couldve bought 20 times over at the dollar store around the corner. but in the end, the 20 was well worth the kids admiring my stack of tickets like i was the godfather of all things animatronic and rodent. i also had a 7 year old explain to me the factual representation of the milenium falcon in the star wars game i also put in its place. i love little kids. mind you i love them in very short time allotments, i get bored and impatient quickly, but for little spans of time, i would be the perfect babysitter. so being home has made me remember some things. for one, i have not been gone nearly long enough. i look out my window to a tree i hate in a bed that is more comfortable than the bed at JMU but i cant sleep here. explain that. i sleep on a fucking concrete slab in logan and i slip into a coma there while i cant fall asleep in a fucking bag of cloud here. the past two nights ive spent hours contemplating the meaning of life and hours aching the next morning. my mother told me she wondered what i did online. i thought "does she suspect me of looking at pornography? an i 12 again?" instead she found my lj but didnt know it was mine. the weirdest thing was, i would rather her have found me looking at porn than to have her find my lj. weird as that is, there is something about my parents that has made me fearful of ever becoming personal with them. if i asked them any of my favorite things, any of my feelings toward anything apolitical, i dont think they could give me an answer. they could give me a general synopsis of the person i was in high school but im well aware that i am not the person i was in high school to any degree, thank god. one day last year when i was back for christmas break, my mom found my physical journal which at that time was devoted to a certain person. she saw a drawing of a tombstone i had drawn for a certain someone's boyfriend who i equated to the dregs of society along with hitler, God, i cant even think of anyone i hate as much as this guy. damn. well anyway, she asked me about it and if it had anything to do with suicide which is rediculous as anyone knows me would tell you i could find the sunny side in having a girl throw up on your foot on the drunk bus. so anyway, i was more afraid that she wouldve read everything i wrote in the confidence that no one would have read it save myself and eventually the muse of my work. i was so afraid that my parents would read what i truly felt inside and condemn myself. i dont know why i do this. most kids seek refuge in their parents but not me, not ever. i never told my parents about the girls i like, or the fears i had, or anything negative that ever went on in my life. during the last years i lived here, i worked so much that my parents hardly ever saw me between school, DQ, friends and aol instant messenger. if you asked me, i couldnt tell you why im so afraid of it, and i couldnt tell you what im afraid of. all i know is that i dont and i wont show them any side of me except for the epidermal layer of what goes on in my life until ive established myself. once im on my own, with a growing family and steady home, ill reach out to my parents and tell them all the things ive wanted to and to my brother about how much i miss him from time to time and how much im sorry that i treated him like shit and to my father and try to mend those walls which have been built up like an iron patriarchal curtain. if you think im fucked up, i ask only that you take into account all the shit ive been through in my life and the shit ive dealt with. then you take a look at what ive become and where im going and you tell me if i was really fucked up, if i would have become who i am and go to the places i will be going soon. you see, were all shit on from time to time. we all hit a flat tire in the road here and there and we all get cut off by people we cant stand. some people will take that and harbor it and condesne it into a ball of rage that they use at one point in time. completely unhealthy. there are some people too oblivious to even know theyve got a flat tire or too self-consumed that they just continue to barrel down the road on just rims while the sparks fly everywhere. me on the other hand, i hate the flat tires just as much as everyone else. but with all the shitty people ive met, all the people who have shit on me and all the people ive shit on, i have learned more than anything any author could tell me. i was watching good will hunting tonight because i love the movie and theres one part where robin williams tells matt damon that hes just a kid and theres nothing he can learn about will that he cant read in a book and i thought, for myself, i take all the things ive seen and i try to assimilate it into a way of living that avoids such people, behaviors and situations that lead to such shitty outcomes. i live in a taoistic valley between the cliffs of role models and anti role models. in my valley, the waters of sanity, peace and tranquility flow into rapids of healthy discontent and angst and pain only to mellow back out into streams and into waterfalls, etc. you get the metaphor. damn i love good will hunting. egotistically i think of myself as will hunting. i want to think so bad that people look at me as i hold the answers in my hand, lit on fire as i stand over them going "do you know how easy this is for me? this is a fucking joke." that, and i want his relationship with minnie driver minus the making her cry and the yelling at her because she didnt deserve that. some girls deserved to be yelled at. like freshmen who walk in their tank tops and daisy dukes down dark streets by themselves. i want to ask them how smart theyre being by walking all alone dressed like that. its like theyre going into a den of lions with a slab of bacon tied to their ass and a tbone on their chest. i wish girls knew that they can look so hot in sweat pants with their hair up or in a classy dress. ive seen girls dressed to the nines with a turtleneck, long skirt and a scarf. these girls couldve been in a fucking burka and you could tell by their eyes that they were gorgeous. i honestly dont understand the phenomena of writing on the ass. honestly, yeah i see it just like every other guy and i think its the hottest school spirit to wear the word dukes across the cheeks, but would i ever talk to them? would i ever think of them as more than a shake of the ass. sometimes it gets out of hand like when the words say juicy or sexy. its like youre posting a singles add on your asscrack. you might as well wear the words easy or low self esteem and get the same message across. i once saw a comedian who said you would never see a guy with one testical hanging out of a pair of pants trying to attract women. girls, so damn confusing. i think when i become a senator, im going to enact a law that makes people wear social mood rings and relationship dogtags. never again should a guy try endlessly to get with a girl who sees him as the best friend/diary with a face to talk about their boyfriend problems. never again should a guy spend a week trying to get with a girl working up the courage to ask a girl to a movie only to have her tell you how much her and her boyfriend loved seeing it. never again. hell, if john ashcroft is the attorney general for another round, maybe ill have him implant shock sensors for stupidity in people. like when girls choose a douche over a guy who wants to treat her right, she should be shocked. and anytime a guy acts like a douche to a woman, his dick should get shocked. soon enough, pavlov would have the world acting straight. half the elites of the world would be more cautious dicking over their constituents/employees/beneficiaries/stockholders if their dick got shocked every time they crossed the moral line. damn im writing a lot. i guess im bored. tv sucks. i hate it. i love me some dvds though, especially free ones that i burn. i love those even more. what is my point. what is my purpose. why do i do the things i do? why do i seek the things i seek and why do my aspirations continue to be what they have been for so long? why do i have such faults and why do i justify them so often. what do i need. if i went to a magical doctor who could prescribe me the exact thing i needed to make everything make sense, what would he give me? would it be power? money? fame? intelligence? a heart? courage? some swanky shoes? a girl? i think thats what i need. i need a girl. i should pull a devon and make a godamn application for significant other and send it out to all the likely girls i would like to get to know better. thats what randy forbes did and look at him. hes got one of the most stable seats in the US House. his power aint going nowhere and he basically sent out applications for the women he could marry and that would be acceptable to the political world. you know, if anyone in good will hunting, the person i really relate to is robin williams minus the whole homeus habillus hair breaking out through his sleeves and crawling between the buttons on his shirt. he had it going on. he was a genius, but he was humble. he was loyal. he loved his woman and knew when he had a good thing. he didnt turn his back on his woman when she needed him most. most of the men in our generation would turn on a woman at the faintest hint of infidelity, boredom or anything that she couldnt provide and some other girl could. he was humble, yeah he knew his shit but did he flaunt it? no he taught at a community council to people who he thought he was helping. he was helping the veterans and the destitute who went through the same shit other people had gone through. he was the hero of the movie. will eventually pulled his head out of his ass but robin williams had it where it needed to be. hes the one i think i embody. i know some people who choose their majors and their jobs to make shitloads of money. i cannot stand that. do i want to have some money when i grow up? of course, no one grows up hoping they can live paycheck to paycheck at the factory. but i will never let the number of zeros on my paycheck or the hood ornament on my car or the zip code i live in define me. if i ever became like that, i would want someone to assassinate me because i would already be dead inside. as soon as money becomes the goal in life, one must look at the person and ask how their time on this earth has become so blinded by a currency which is only as strong as the people who give that currency its value. think of it, if tomorrow everyone woke up and believed that sand, not paper currency or metal currency, was the most coveted thing on earth, imagine how quickly the third world would switch places with that of the first world. if that makes any sense to you, congratulations, youve actually read this far into my journal and i can finally tell you the meaning of life that God told me last night while i was peering out my window. ready? here it is:
_________ _____ _-______!
now just put your special dave decoder over the screen and youll be able to read it. ir you read this, comment because i need something to do between checking facebook and my email.
transcending the cracker jack box known as chesapeake