Eternity

I feel like blogging. Writing actually. Today I came to blows with my intense desire for perfection, I have realized that I don't appreciate when anyone is better than me at anything, in fact I loathe it, and I truly believe I could be the best at anything, it's blatantly selfish and uncaring, and it's driving me up a wall. I think our minds unconsciously protect our egos, they keep us from trying things, telling us that we're nervous, or we're to tired, useless excuses, in order to keep us from the impending imperfection. Ingenious. I don't know where my life is headed, I want to be a writer, and yet I don't think I could handle the strain it would put on my mind, I think too much, in fact I might not think ever again, intellect is useless, it means nothing in the end, maybe people shouldn't act like they have any, intellect is a great ego booster, and yet consequently it gives the boosted a sense of egotism, which is unbearable, it makes you want to move to cambodia, and get in touch with your chi, and meet the Dalai Lama, and shave your head, driving yourself to insanity, and upon arrival to the institution you discover the Dalai Lama is the house card dealer . Anyway, I'm aloof when it comes to women, I want to marry them all, I hear that some Mormons in New Mexico still actively practice polygamy, polygamists are just guys who could never make a decision, you have to feel for them in a way. Camp is looming, I'm struggling with my newly minted immense poularity, and the toll it takes on my spirit, I often calm myself down after long days of being chased by giddy young girls, and followed by impressionable little boys at camp, by wildly dancing to a song of my invention, and some hearty kosher gangster rapping with Justin Kovanis. I am nervous like Maria Shriver when Arnold wants a hug, she doesn't want to be crushed, me neither, I think my nervous energy fuels me, it makes me spontaneous, and combustible when the dances come, but afterwards, the emotional drop-off sets in, and I get wildly depressive, that's the origin of Counselors Corner, Penman helping me through my insanity. I love that guy, he may be geeky, and short, but I feel uncommonly comfortable around him, I feel like he understands me, something sadly Tupac never felt. Anywho, My sappiness indicator is showing a major malfunction. Truly though, while I'm in the mood, I may be sarcastic out the wazoo, and make fun of all of you, but if I didn't have my friends, I'd be a wreck, I live vicariously through all of you, my friends are a part of me, Donald Trump would fire me for that kind of sad emotional display. I'm worried that I don't cry enough anymore, maybe I've become entirely insensitive. Hopefully not. I don't know if I have a creative bone in my body. People don't take me seriously anymore, I tell girls wildly complimentary things all the time, with a flair that would make Shakespeare proud, and they just laugh them off, it's not the cat's meow, suffice it to say. I was contemplating today, marriage in particular, it seems to me that you need to make an effort to be the best possible person for your spouse, you should come into a marriage with the intention of never letting your wife down, and all the tools needed to fulfill that purpose, to do otherwise would be selfish. Chivalry is out like Cher, but somebody needs to bring it back, all things that embody respect and a thoughtful and unselfish approach to life should be encouraged. I love nostalgia. Anyway, I feel pretty farcical about being so serious, and sappy, and for using the word sappy, but who cares, there's a Donkey in numerous movies and he's probably going to bite. I'll end with the most beautiful song ever thought of, in fact it only has 2 lines, but they carry infinite wisdom, James and I were oft inspired by the unkempt beauty reflected in the lines of our greatest hit. "I want a Big Mac girl when I grow up, Her name can be Daisy or Buttercup." Beautiful.