Not to disregard my post from last night, but that was a seriously dark place I do not like to dwell upon. Oddly enough, putting away laundry was the impetus.

Crossfire

In the fields between who I am and who I'm supposed to be there is a thick black line, maybe 2 inches in length. It goes as far as the eye can see, dividing this world into parts. The side of who I'm supposed to be is bright, clear, pristine. I am working a solid job as an Engineer, working with people and making an excellent income, enough for my mom to buy a new car and to pay off my Hyundai. I am wearing something resembling Dockers and a long sleeve button shirt, sitting at an Olive Garden with my would-be girlfriend talking about video games and politics. In that world, everyone is happy. Everyone has money. We cross the thick black line. The world is filled with a smoky purple mist, the sprawlings of trees that may be alive or dead, and me teaching. I have no money. My family has no money. I have no one besides me. And yet, I am somehow content. But how selfish am I to be happy when everyone around me is fucking miserable? I don't need the money- they do. That's why they helped you get a degree in Engineering, and sure a PhD would also bring in money, but it's so far away and they can't wait that long. I fail as a provider.

Come on, would making more money really be a bad thing? For some reason my heart cries in agony, begging me not to. Is it fear, is it temptation? For some reason the thought of me having a lot of money scares me, because I've always associated money with bad people. Sure, bad people can do good things with money, but they are still bad people. I don't want to be a bad person. But isn't that what being Catholic is about, sacrificing your own self gains so that your family and others can be better off? That's why you went to Catholic school for 5 years, That's why your mom worked her ass off for so fucking long doing two, three jobs so you could come up to Tucson and get into a good school. Now she's getting tired and you're just barely making enough money to get by with rent and utilities and food and gas. You're a fucking disappointment.

parish is offering Confirmation classes in November. I never did it during high school like good Catholics should. I haven't been to Confession in over ten years, and yet every Sunday I... nevermind.

I still feel like a kid. I was always told that I was mature for my age growing up, and I always associated immaturity with stupidity. Now, I don't know. I still refrain from cursing whenever I can help it, but apart from that I've never figured out what it means to be an adult. To do something for someone you love so much even though it's not what you want to do. I don't want to get a job. I feel like there's a fissure in my head and part of me is overstricken with anger. But only bad people get angry. The other part is imperceptibly numb.

Oh ok. It will send.the entire thing, but in chunks of 160. Small victory I suppose.

Damn it still stops after the old regimen.

neat if I could.

Testing something out here. Is it possible for me to now send messages longer than 160 Charmanders to my old blogger account? I think it would be pretty