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2002-03-31 - 4:20 p.m. During Paul's conversion on the road to Damascus, Jesus says to him, "Why do you kick against the pricks?" Well, I can answer that one for you, Jesus. People - all of us - like to push against something that resists our pushing. What it is doesn't even really matter all that much. That's why Paddy McGuinness makes sense; first he was a socialist trying to knock down capitalism, then he became a conservative trying to knock down "creeping socialism". Exactly where the line is doesn't matter - you just draw it somewhere, blame the people on the other side for your problems, and then start pushing. If it's too small and you're able to push it over, then it doesn't last long... so you pick something bigger. I hated school for 11 of the 12 years I spent there, and believed it was teachers who were making my life bad. But then school was over and the resistance was gone and I was suddenly depressed and didn't know why. I found other obstacles to push against, other groups to blame. - And now I see that that's what I've been doing all along, and I'm scared. I want to stop. I want to stop blaming, to stop being a sulky child, to give up the excuses and just live my life. But the thing is, anger is invigorating. Hatred is a kind of passion. I wonder, what will be left of me if I really do learn to give up blaming others? Years ago, H's girlfriend of the time told him that her GP had prescribed prozac for her because she said she'd been feeling bored over the holidays. I had a deep hatred of antidepressants and I went into a long rant about why that was such a bad thing, so stupid... and H said he'd never seen me so fired up about anything. The thing is, I probably wouldn't do that now. Because fighting in a good cause is what everyone who's fighting believes they are doing. That's what the thugs at Peekskill thought they were doing. It all just comes down to fighting, anyway. I want to face my past, face what I have been, and then let it go. But I don't know how. I'm still lost, still just as lost as the first day I started writing this diary. Where is it that I think I'm going? I don't even know where I'm going with this diary entry. How can I know where I'm going with my life? Would I want to know? - When I was younger then my ambition for when I grew up was to be a boardgame designer. Now it feels like my interest in games is a big part of what's standing in the way of me fulfilling my potential. But I don't want to, I mean, I don't want to just live up to some stupid potential. There's more to life. There's a lot more to life than accomplishment. Most people spend their lives in poverty and drudgery, and they most they leave behind is a child, a family, some memories. - I'm lonely and bored. I look out the window and see the sun shining and the fluffy white clouds in a blue sky, and think, what is wrong with me that I can't appreciate what I have right now? Why does everything always have to be leading towards some grander purpose? Why can't we just let it be? - There's something weighing on my heart and I'm trying to write it out but I haven't succeeded. It's still there. It's not heavy but it's a prescence, I can feel it all the time. It's not quite guilt, not exactly discontent or frustration... I don't know what it is. But I feel it there all the time. What is it? - "They called him a cannibal A murderer, a thief It just doesn't pay to eat anything But government inspected beef" - Phil Ochs, 'The Ballad of Alferd Packer'
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