
(Not my own, but might as well be.)
Come and celebrate with me.
I am celebrating having all my options open. See, because I don't have a woman, I can still have any woman. Because I have no job, I can still have any job.
Ok, you know what I can't figure out?
When did stuff start to count?
I mean in life? 'Cause it didn't used to.
Like when we used to play horse in my driveway. And
every time you would miss a shot, you would freak and you would scream
"Do over! Do over!"
And what would we do? We'd start again.
What happend to do-overs, huh?
Pick the wrong summer job, get a different job next
summer.
Pick the wrong girl, dump her. Move to the right girl.
I loved that.
I loved how everything seemed to matter,
But nothing really did.
You know what I mean?
No. I---No, I mean, I think we still have do-overs.
I don't know...I think stuff is starting to count.
We may not notice it, but one day
wham...
Now we are who we're gonna be.
Cheers...
(Another little something I came across.)
I don't know.
I don't know what's going on anymore, you know?
When I was fucking 18, 19, I was great.
I had a fucking blast.
I had a great time, you know?
And now, it's like nothing's funny anymore.
Nothing makes me laugh.
I mean, not really.
I'm 22 years old and three lousy years went by.
Were's all the funny shit?
What the fuck happend?
And it's like I'm asking myself: is this all I got?
I mean, isn't -- isn't there -- isn't there
a third option between burning out and fading away?
I mean, is that all I get?
(Angst, angst, and more angst!)
Oh, no, no,
I am not cynical.
I'm not.
I'm actually the least cynical person I know.
You want to know what is cynical?
This wedding is cynical,
'cause they're not in love.
Not really.
Jane just got scared that she wouldn't have her life
set by the time she was 26.
And Ben...Ben can fall in love with anyone.
He just can't stay in love.
But me...
completely different.
Because I actually believe that there is someone out
there for me.
And that I'll meet her,
and we'll fall in love.
I actually believe that.
Just like I believe everything else is going to work
out one way or another.
And I'll find something to do with my life.
And even -- even if it doesn't make me rich,
it's gonna make me happy.
See?
I'm not cynical.
I'm bitter,
'cause I haven't found a single one of those things
yet.
But I kinda think that I'm a romantic.
An intensely bitter romantic.
(There's always more angst to be found around!)
I thought I'd feel like it's all ahead for me,
and it's all good, and it's all happening exactly
the way I want it to.
Now, I just feel so...so...yecch!
Now see, that's good.
That "yecch" is good.
"Yecch" tells you you didn't make the feel good, screw-the-consequences
choice.
It says you made the difficult, suck-it-in, welcome-to-the-real-world
choice.
From now on, "yecch" is precisely the feeling we should strive for.
I'm so glad I came by.
I feel much better now.
No, really. It's like my job, right?
It's like something out of Kafka.
I'm getting a twitch in my left eye.
I've got staple calluses, -- staple calluses.
But you know what?
I'm not walking away.
I'm gonna prove to everyone that I can make a committement
to something that may not have immediate rewards, but that down the road,
with alot of time and dedication, it's gonna provide me with invaluable
opportunities in my chosen profession.
And demonstrate to the world that I have formally
entered the world of adulthood.
So...that's what I'm gonna do.
I'm gonna stick it out.
Here are a few previous thoughts of the day.