4/3/96
Well, here's the status: The Madonna fantasies have not stopped. They haven't even slowed down. They have increased. I do not have money. I do not have a job. I am fuzzy about whether I really want either. I could get a job if I persisted. I could find a way to get some money if I really had the will to. I need money. I don't seem to have the survival sense to get what I need. Maybe I don't really need money. I don't know.
I am bored. I find myself sitting around doing nothing and hating it. I want work. I want to exercise my talents. I just ... The system ... doesn't want me to. It wants to nullify my talents, obliterate them. If I don't use what I have, it'll just go away anyway. I need to find out what's really important so I can get it, or keep it if I already have it. I don't know what is the most important to me.
I love music. That's for sure. My web page. That is something I'm really proud of. My physical fitness. That has been getting better and better lately, and I'm really enjoying it. My unending desire for love. These are things I want to keep.
Things I want that I don't have: Independence. I'm still living with my parents. That needs to change. A job that I can do well, in a place where the people are honest. I'm losing hope that such a thing exists. I can learn to do just about any job well, but honest people. They're not so easy to find. Well... I do have my one day per week job at preschool, and that one is really great. I just need more. Maybe I just need to keep looking. Oh, I do want money. That's for sure. I want the money to at least pay my Internet bill, and of course when that's paid, I'll want more for other things. It's inevitable.
I don't know if I'll actually make this one public. I'm writing it more to clarify my own thinking, but I guess that's why I've written just about everything else here anyway. I'm not sure that these ramblings would do anybody else any good to read. Oh, I'll probably post 'em, just as a matter of default. If people don't like to ready my babbling, they can go to another web site where things are more formal.
Speaking of my web site, I do wish I were getting more response to it. I planned it to be so successful that I put in psychological barriers to prevent people from responding to me about it, in the hopes that only the few who really had something that they needed to say to me would get through. I put in shit to scare off would-be hostile viewers. I didn't want everybody to leave, but it looks like that's what happened. Even some of the people I used to correspond with have apparently decided I'm not worth talking to. One of the things I warned against in the opening pages was social ostracization. To a degree, it has happened to me. My instincts, when writing that piece of partial satire, were true. Or maybe my predictions were just self-fulfilling. Anyway, it happened. I haven't gotten any heart attacks yet, though. Just to be on the safe side, I think I'll try to keep this page a secret when my grandparents visit later this month.
Oh, another wild idea (one of many) that popped into my head while I was taking one of my many walks yesterday: Start reading, or maybe shouting, some of the shit on my web page to the public on Pearl Street. I've put together a greatly lengthened rap arrangement based on the lyrics of A Poem or Two. Since I originally wrote the song while I was sitting on Pearl Street, it seems fitting that I might perform it there. The other idea that appeals to me is to sort of act like a fake preacher while reading some words from Proverbs, Revelation, or my own Madden. That might be fun, too. If I did either one of those, it could help me to get over my phobias around public speaking. If I'm really lucky, I might even get a few tips and be able to pay the bill, so I can keep all this stuff on the 'net a little while longer.
BTW, I do owe a big debt of gratitude to Pair Networks for not throwing me off. The service has been great, the prices low, and I don't want to betray their trust by delaying my payment indefinately. Guys, I've got the check written and ready to mail, but the funds aren't in the bank just yet. I was planning to have them there weeks ago, but, you know how things go... You'll have your money before long. If I ever do become famous, I bet you'll have a lot more customers, too. Well, we can always hope, can't we?
Oh, another thing nobody will probably believe me on: I was thinking about making a homemade demo tape and sending it to Maverick. Oh, I'm laughing now. Seriously, I've been doing my own sort of vocal exercises over the past few weeks, and I think I could pursue a career in singing if I wanted to. Ah, I know. You all think I'm nuts. I sort of do, too. Well, maybe this is another one for Pearl Street.
Since the topic of Pearl Street seems to keep coming up, I'll throw out another idea I've been thinking about: Maybe it would be fun to be a street person, a bum. I mean, why not? You get to laze around in the sun (or cold and snow) all day, scrounge for food, and just enjoy the passing time. The one thing that a lot of bums (at least if you believe stereotypes) get into that I just wouldn't go for: achohol. I think I'd rather be a sober bum. People, I'm serious here. If you're me, it's better to be a little hungry and be deprived of life's finer luxeries if it means freedom. Don't get me wrong. I don't mind work. What I mind are inflated beauracracies that don't give a shit about what the people in them are going through. Heck, when I was working at Little Caesar's, I saw tons of things being done that just didn't make any sense, at least the way the people there were doing them. I mean, it was obvious that there had originally been a purpose behind a lot of it, but the purpose had either disappeared or was no longer being met. Did the management give a shit? Oh, I'm going off on a tangent again. Anyway...
Well, I don't even mind corruption, overbloated beauracracies, purposeless tasks, and overbearing bosses. I could work with all that. Everyone has to. It's a fact of life. I just can't stand it when they try to target me specifically. It just seems like the more shit you take, the more everyone wants to give you. If you take that, they'll double it next time around. It forms a cycle until one of the following happens: your will breaks, or you get the hell out of there. In the case of Little Caesar's, I got the hell out of there. After working there a couple days, it became evident to me that everyone else's will had been broken, in one way or another. Oh, maybe not. They all had found ways to cope with it. I guess I can't really see into other people's minds. Maybe they were all fine with the whole matter, and I'm just a raving lunatic full of delusions. Either way, the place didn't work for me.
If it were just Little Caesar's that were that way, I wouldn't be so critical of the whole thing. The problem is that now I can walk into another place and see the same patterns forming before I ever fill out a job application. I guess I must be delusional. Well, that isn't true of every company or organization. For one thing, the preschool I work at now is really nice. As much as I rant and rave about the church and all its bullshit, I have to admit that the school it runs doesn't shit on it's employees like most of the other orginizations I've run into.
Oh, another exception to the rule. It isn't one I've actually witnessed in person, just on my tv screen. Madonna, in Truth or Dare. Yes, I know she was yelling at her tour managers, or whatever they were, after that one show. There were probably other instances where she lost her temper with them that might not have been shown on camera. Overall, though, she did treat everyone in her employ with honesty and respect. I did not get the sense that the tyrannical bitch mode that she went into occasionally was an ongoing thing. Even when she was bitchy, she was honest, which is more than I can say for most of the people I've dealt with. One of the things I stated a few paragraphs back was that I wanted a place to work where people are honest. I didn't say I wanted everybody to be pleasant and cheery all the time. Even if Madonna had no interest in developing romantic relations with me, I would love to work for her. Madonna, if you are reading this, know this: I am honest, trustworthy, and a hard worker. If you were to employ me, I could get over my sexual infatuation with you, and be a great employee. You know it's possible. You're working with Antonio Banderas, aren't you? You got over it. I could too. Oh, so could Rush. (If you're not a dittohead, don't bother asking.)
Well, I've been typing this stuff for over almost an hour and a half now. It's an enjoyable way to pass the time. If you found it boring, I can't help you. I would probably find it pretty boring to read endless ramblings about another person's life too, unless that person were a big celebrity. Then everything changes. :) I'm gonna go do some other things now. Peace.