The Depravity Rainbow: A Small Level of Fear

Fear factors are setting in with the last days of my being a student teacher, or a student-anything for that matter. I am scared, fucking scared that I will never be good enough for the kids or for my 'profession'. Maybe I don't belong here. Teachers are to be trusted, and I was an expelled used car salesman living a fradulent life.

"So one day I'm taking a piss and think to meself: 'Oi, this is it. I'm married, got a bit of schoolin', and a job.' So I decide at that point to walk away. Just left 'er there with a half-eaten steak an' kidney pie, waiting for me." - Rock Star (2000)

Am I in the same place? I asked for her to do nothing but exhude heat, to be there, nothing more. My nights' sleep was fuckin' horrible, and I claimed the couch to be near my dog as a rousting of the strays went through the neighborhood, all of them barking out their territory, claiming the homes, porches, yards and vacant lots around my apartment while arousing my dog to hold the claim she has to my duplex apartment. It was intermitten, like sporadic gunfire, a bark-bark here, and so forth from 1:30am to 4:30 (or so) in the morning.

I am not happy, not in any way. I am a restrained hedonist, struggling against my bonds and my fears, dying to be more than I am today. I fight inside myself to keep from growing like a virus within the ideals of my community, unable to will myself to keep from buggering the young ones or killing off the idiots in a type of humanitarian anti-intelligence-genocide/mass murder. Idiots need to die. Fools need to be sold for their weight in meat.

I need to leave.

This is my cultural dead weight, and I don't think that I am ever gonna do anyone any good here in the state of Texas.

The fuckin' university sent me to the wrong study session for my PPR.

I need to be here for 6-hours PER STATE LAW and I am languishing here scribbling my blog and waiting to see what's gonna happen next.

"Elvira, obey me; and I will love you." - Christopher Walken "Man on Fire"

I graduate in May 2009. I won't be elidgible for ANY fuckin' job for the fall because of this testing crap and I am going to spin about making myself dizzy and sad, internally, feeling my heart collapse, and wishing I could be something more than I am today.

I always wanted to write & draw, and I can't, and I can't be successful at it. If I do something truly abstract it's given to detractors or people don't understand it. And if I do something primative, it's took smacking of realism, and anything realistic has the touch of a cartoonist; I can't win no matter what my fuckin' medium is and I am sad thinking about those thoughts.

I FEEL RIDICULOUS!!!

I've been in this lab for over 2 hours and I have nothing to show for it; noone's able to help me and I can't get a password that works in any way.

Part of me wants to cry. The other part wants to balance my checkbook & shop some more on eBay. I don't know which of these halves to follow in all honesty.

The 'professor' who was going to aid me with putting me onto the proper computer service has not come up andher Saturday class ends in 30 minutes, thus my morning has been wasted. I COULD have returned to bed, maybe entered into some meaningless, dissatisfying sex making someone else happy, but instead I am here, pounding my complaints into notepad, wishing for more than I am today.

No machine gun in my grips - I can't mow down my fears, small, large or imaginary. All I can do is hope and keep trying to do something worthwhile with my time and pray to the gods of schooling that somehow ALL this will be fuckin' resolved one day soon.

Lunch time; I think I'll balance my checkbook, maybe get a burger and a beer, and relax, thinking about what may have been or what could be something ... great, if possible.

I still want to cry.

- just not now, not here.

~ j ~

epilogue: 'The professor apologized & let me know that I can have a password to do my work later. Thus my Saturday WAS shot to fuckin' hell."