I’ve got alot of pills
And Not a Single Reason Not to Take Them
Suicide? No. Depression.

I can’t explain it
I just want to die
Suicide? No. Mental Illness

I’m me – I can’t not be me
Society says that’s not ok – or worse I am evil
Suicide? No. Collective Murder

I’m me – I can’t not be me
Society says that’s wrong so I keep it a secret. You outed me.
Suicide? No. Murder

Arguably the worst kind. Your ugliness makes me sick.

You are not my friend
I don’t learn about my friends
On the Internet

You are a reminder
Of what I could have been
After all our paths crossed once

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- Do Not be Paralyzed

By Your Ability to See Both Sides

Look Towards Your Anchor and Act

However, Choose your Anchor Cautiously

For it is the basis of all your journey’s decisions

Lest you be lead in the circle of hypocrisy

- Anonymous –

These aren’t my words but I thought I’d share them because they illustrate the other “law school scam” that has nothing to do with the fact that it’s an overpriced waste of time that has little chance of getting you any sort of gainful employment, much less one that might help you pay off your loans and start a life before you’re dead.  I also am not going to take issue with professors whose only job is to write and consider teaching a nuasance.  I am taking issue with the fact that a legal education is an enemy of “truth” as defined in the discipline of philosophy and as such eliminates the anchor spoken of in the prose that introduces this entry.  Allow me to explain.

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I attacked my day with gusto and zeal

For you see, I’ve decided not to feel

I hardly notice as those whose exercise unjust dominion over me

Mock what I hold most dear

Go get ‘em champ! My smile is real!

For you see, I’ve decided not to feel

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I have the easiest debt any man has ever had

I do not pay off my debt with labor or sex or both – though still I am humiliated

My debt is a soft debt

So I lift my pen – that is my right

My debt is an easy debt because I was dealing with a thief and not a kidnapper

My humiliation was a byproduct of being robbed

A means to an end rather than an end itself

So I lift my pen – my cooler head prevails

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The following prose is inspired by interviews with and commentary from Mike Triforce and is posted with his infered blessing and endorsement.  This in no way reflects my own thoughts and feelings. Thanks for your support during my rough patch asshole.

I make my own sandwhich
It happens – like laundry or other minutaie
But as I search for pickles the magnitude of it hits me
What wonders will the world never see
 - or see hundreds of years later
 - because Einstein on some random day
 - had to make his own sandwhich

So yes Princess it could be the end of the world
I could be writing a song
Or rehearsing a part
Or trying to figure out exactly how much I can charge this chump client before he starts raising red flags

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Impending death is re-definition

When you decide to take your own life

You cease to be what you thought you were

And become someone who is about to die

And so it was for another poor soul

http://abovethelaw.com/2010/07/reed-smith-partner-commits-suicide-in-chicago/#more-27662

So tragic and sad.

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Please Take What is Left of Me
Though I Must Admit
It’s Not Much

I Cannot Take Care of You
In the manner you deserve
I owe so much

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Once I met a man whose fortune was my opposite

My every victory was his defeat

His every triumph foreshadowed my own misfortune

We were on opposite sides of a Pendulum not restrained by impartial Gravity

I called this man my friend

I tried to be joyous as a friend should

As he conquered the world in his own way

Masking my own pain

As my own world fell apart

I called this task my burden

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My ex-girlfriend is an associate professor at a prominent university in Virginia.  She has the same degree from the same school that I do.  We were both young professors there once.  They opted not to renew my contract. My buddy is the youngest principal in the school district.  He’s the one who hooked me up with my current substitute teaching gig.  He started teaching at 20 with an associate’s degree when I still had eight years of school to go. 

My ex-girlfriend loves me.  She’s not seeing anyone else.  She still calls sometimes but she doesn’t say anything.  I know its her even if my cell phone doesn’t.

My buddy loves me.  I can remember when his younger siblings were born.  I can remember failed science projects and staying up all night to finish super mario brothers.  I attended the weddings in his family.  He attended the funerals in mine.

Dr. King spent the days before he died working on behalf of striking sanitation workers.  Their picket signs read simply “I am a man.”  Dr. King said that a man without a job feels like he has no right to exist.  I know for a fact that is true.  If Dr. King had lived I wonder if he would have explained how to make that feeling go away.

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