the candid moose

days like this make me feel very small and insignificant.

the people around me make me feel clumsy and incompetent.

if i am incompetently throwing together a cheap imitation of a serious reflection paper, and failing at that, how in the world am i even going to begin to make a difference in the real world?

and if i can't get through a week without feeling so lonely and incompetent that i want to toss it all and buy a motorcycle and ride fast and hard until a semi pulls out in front of me, and become completely unproductive and miserable to be around, how the hell am i ever going to get and keep a job?

half of me wants to throw up my hands and walk away; people will fight wars, starve, lust for power, break hearts, be duped, have their lives wrecked by unwitting social systems, enslave each other, get sick and die, whether you do anything or not. and chances are if you try to do anything you will be wasting your time. or make it worse. i was born an outsider and prett

the other half says, damn, i'd better get working on that paper and get serious about building good relationships if there's to be any hope at all of becoming the kind of guy who can make a difference.

pray the latter voice wins. because a life lived for the sole purpose of paying the gas and repair for a motorcycle and music for the iPod seems like a pretty pathetic existence, but it's about all i feel fit for right now.