Heh heh I'd say both. But you probably don't need the marijuana to be philosophical. There's a certain breed of people, myself included, I'd like to think, where once we hit a certain phase, it's like blick-a-blaow! we're Socrates (if he had been a teenager living in suburban America gettin' pissed at how meaningless life seems).
The River Why is a must-read for any philosopher, religious or spiritual soul, confused and epidermically challenged pre-adult, or anyone who luuuhhvs fishin'. Seriously mon. I reread it again, having read it the first time at a younger age, and now it's like it means so much more. Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul? Bullcrap! (not that I've read it, but just the idea of it . . . ugh) Read a literary classic for chrissake! If you think there's a nifty little manual for life called Chicken Soup you need to get your head outta your ass. There is one good way to learn life's lessons: live. But barring that, pick up something by somebody that has lived and learned the tricks to it, and glean what you can from that.
Caffeine is grand. I feel better at 10:48 at night than I did at noon. That's another thing: sleeping habits. Since the beginning of the year mine have been blown to smithereens. Another factor in my slow deterioration towards either A) a crashing dark valley of lowness from which I will slowly climb my way back up, or B) an epiphany or insight POWERFUL enough to give me the strength to pursue my dreams, get past this bloody speed-bump of an age they affectionately dub "growing up", and get on with my f*cking life.
Rich, did you discover who you really are during puberty? Lucky bastard. I've just discovered I'm nuffin and nobody. It's not that school gets in the way of me wanting to live my life. It's that I don't have a life to live or a love to live for, and without that to get me by, I have the yin but not the yang. I have school and tedious, scary social interaction without the compensating goodness of a passion or hobby or goal (besides the written word and literary classics, but that's not something you get into when you're fifteen, now is it? You have to write what you know and before you know you have to live and to live you have to live FOR something and what do I got? Nothin'!). So in short, uhm, it sucks and I feel like I'm a rocketship with a full fuel payload and no directional vector. What do I want to do? Anything. What can I do? Nothing. So what do I do? Nothing.
And now I believe I'll take a shower and go to bed.
__________________
Step right up and shoot pasties off the nipples of a ten-foot bull dyke! Win a cotton candy goat!
|