and she said.. "how you interpret the dream is probably more important than the dream itself"

My friend just busted out with a "Deadwood is venomously funny" comment so now I know he's a shill. That's fine, because I can't say I've ever saved anyone's life either. In some odd way, that seems like a bit of a failure. Not that people are often trying to die around me but, gosh, the least I could say for twenty-eight years worth of this nonsense is "well, I saved a guy once."

I don't think it counts that I've been able to keep my own self out from under the dark side of the bus all this time - that's not really something to brag about in this day and age, is it?

I do some pretty stupid things, sure.. but logic mostly pulls me out of any stupors I stumble myself into. It's those long-term, drawn-out, hard to see things that take real thinking. Seeing ahead of time that you're heading in the wrong direction. Unlosing yourself before you're really lost.

So far I can say a number of things like "I accomplished this" or "I failed that". It's all inconsequence though. As far as actual, physically measurable impact I'm just a dumpster full of empty mac & cheese boxes. My footprint on society is ecological to the point that I may as well be braindead - heck, that might even be easier in the long run. Ain't no philosophy here.

In the end, when I finish the pages of crap I'm writing they'll have a foreign worker come by to collect the recycling box. They'll be a lot of paper in there, 150 sheets of which will be mine. He might throw his back out that day, and he'll be bed-ridden for awhile. The paper will end up in the trash cause that's what recycling really means to half the people out there anyway, and it'll burn with such acrid and black smoke you'd think the devil himself was the bleaching agent they used to render such pearly white stationary.

I thought for a bit that I - living for myself, now - would end up unhappy with my impending return to the states, surrounding myself once again with a bunch of rubes and half-wits, but I'm not so sure. These last few weeks, well maybe I've just had a bad run of it, but it's been truly awful. The truth is a rube's a rube and you're bound to run into them anywhere you go and there isn't anything you can do about it, really.

Except maybe punch them in the face.