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After a certain hour of the night thoughts can seem quite lucid. I move to capture them here before unconciousness steals them away.

Friday, February 11, 2005

I write for me 

Some part of me always hopes for an audiance, but the feeling like I'm preparing my words for an audiance keeps me from writing almost as much as forgetfulness. Sigma Nu, working as the Chaplain now, took a lesser role. School, don't give a damn about Engineering, just wasting money paying tuition and not going to class, I'm not ready to talk about that yet. Last summer I had testicular cancer, it cost me my left testicle and most my life's ambitions. I really don't care much about anything anymore than the evening's fancies. I'm going out a lot more and taking risks that I wouldn't have bothered with before, all on money that I haven't earned and don't deserve to be given. I've gone from a very bright and promising young man to a worthless and unmotivated spoiled frat guy. If I could send a message to a previous me I don't know what it would say, I don't hang out with the people that started me on this path any more, their lives are separate from mine in too many ways, and the people I do interact with on a daily basis have absolutely no respect for my time or effort or even each other. I'd just go home if I could but there's nothing there to go home to and I'm not up to making one for myself. I feel guilty about having everything I need and still complaining, but the reality is I have all the Material possessions I need, and none of my personal and emotional needs are being met or have been for a while. It's tearing me up. If I was a refugee in Southeast Asia or a villager in Africa I could at least have substantial issues to concern me, but here I merely read books and fret over a dwindling bank account as I splurge on food at the grocery store. My biggest thrill is driving to meetings no one cares if I attend. If I'm awake my roommates ignore me, if I'm asleep they enjoy themselves until they wake me, and if I engage them they politely dismiss me. This is not what I was born to do or be, this is not enough for me to live for, and I have to form new goals, dreams, and ambitions or eventually, despite having every "thing" I need, I will die from it.

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