3-31-97
I'm bummed. I am a slave. Nobody cares. We're born to be fucked. The Devil is winning. Evil rules. Armageddon approaches. Happiness is the illusion few can afford. Ignorance is the only way out. For me it's too late.
Sounds like a suicide note. I want to live, though. I want to make good, despite the odds. I think the opportunity for a lengthy, mostly happy life still exists for me. These years coming will be the test. Next year I turn thirty and will have no debt. Less than two years after that we go into the new millenium, and I will have a woman to love and trust for the rest of my life.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. And I'll write best-selling, internationally-acclaimed, Nobel-Prize-winning novels, recognized for their deep humanitarian insights.
What else? My mouth tastes like old coffee. I'll skip lunch today, but I want to go talk in the lounge to find out about the ramifications of missing the Early Literacy Certification Training Module One, Component One: Another Big Giant Bureaucratic Fuckaround.
Sandra brought her Game Boy to school. I was playing. There's no way to make up tomorrow's training, so I'll have to miss the Dodger game.
Estamos leyendo del agua, los que estan leyendo, pero hay muchos que prefieren aprender nada. Mi actitud es tan negativo hoy. Alas, how can I save my psyche? It looks so hopeless. Why do I feel this way? Is it because I've been drinking and smoking so much? Because I got no love? Because the world sucks? Is it because of the Hale-Bopp comet?
Yesenia reads beautifully. I ate a BBQ chicken filet sandwich and salad with ranch dressing, green beans, and an apple from the school cafeteria. Karla reads pretty good. There's still half an hour until we can go outside for softball.
What else? Sandra reads aloud well. If I ask any questions, though, no one can answer well.
I definitely have to look for work at another school. I can't stand this place anymore. Life is not supposed to be this way. How did life get to be so unnatural? I want to put my head through the wall, my fist through the glass. I want these kids to think.
When I get home, I'll do my desk. I'll call Paul. I'll go to the LACAS office and pay for the books. What kind of lesson will I do tonight? If only I hadn't fucked around so much in college, I might be teaching something substantial somewhere.
I'm bummed. I am a slave. Nobody cares. We're born to be fucked. The Devil is winning. Evil rules. Armageddon approaches. Happiness is the illusion few can afford. Ignorance is the only way out. For me it's too late.
Sounds like a suicide note. I want to live, though. I want to make good, despite the odds. I think the opportunity for a lengthy, mostly happy life still exists for me. These years coming will be the test. Next year I turn thirty and will have no debt. Less than two years after that we go into the new millenium, and I will have a woman to love and trust for the rest of my life.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. And I'll write best-selling, internationally-acclaimed, Nobel-Prize-winning novels, recognized for their deep humanitarian insights.
What else? My mouth tastes like old coffee. I'll skip lunch today, but I want to go talk in the lounge to find out about the ramifications of missing the Early Literacy Certification Training Module One, Component One: Another Big Giant Bureaucratic Fuckaround.
Sandra brought her Game Boy to school. I was playing. There's no way to make up tomorrow's training, so I'll have to miss the Dodger game.
Estamos leyendo del agua, los que estan leyendo, pero hay muchos que prefieren aprender nada. Mi actitud es tan negativo hoy. Alas, how can I save my psyche? It looks so hopeless. Why do I feel this way? Is it because I've been drinking and smoking so much? Because I got no love? Because the world sucks? Is it because of the Hale-Bopp comet?
Yesenia reads beautifully. I ate a BBQ chicken filet sandwich and salad with ranch dressing, green beans, and an apple from the school cafeteria. Karla reads pretty good. There's still half an hour until we can go outside for softball.
What else? Sandra reads aloud well. If I ask any questions, though, no one can answer well.
I definitely have to look for work at another school. I can't stand this place anymore. Life is not supposed to be this way. How did life get to be so unnatural? I want to put my head through the wall, my fist through the glass. I want these kids to think.
When I get home, I'll do my desk. I'll call Paul. I'll go to the LACAS office and pay for the books. What kind of lesson will I do tonight? If only I hadn't fucked around so much in college, I might be teaching something substantial somewhere.
posted by johnz at 11:20 AM
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