Why am I here?

When I say here I mean, broke, barely able to pay the next month’s rent, unemployed and on food stamps. I think back to when I was 18. I have written some things about missing one extra gym class that cost me a decent grade point average and putting me on academic probation and the granting of the vote to the 18 year old. I might have mentioned the end of the draft, too. That’s one thing about the 70’s they seem to forget, the end of the draft. Sounds like I was done wrong but I have now a guilty pleasure that caused the downfall of Eddie Bryan. I wanted to sell dope. I wanted to sell dope, be a big hippie, sleep with all the sexually liberated hippie girls and so I didn’t want a dorm room. I wonder if I would have failed gym if I had had a dorm room. There was also a parking situation back then. I never got a commuter sticker after refusing the dorm room. I would need one of those to commute to school. I ended up getting quite a few tickets in my first semester at the University of Florida.

Ram Butler advises in his last lesson to avoid memory. I guess I just blew that. The reason he says is because usually we remember the bad things, the traumas and nightmares of the past and remembering them keeps them alive, they reincarnate for us because indeed we are their creator. I guess I just wanted to deal with the guilt. I bit the big apple and I deserve all the shit I get unless I want to turn to Jesus and be born again. Of course I’ve twisted that up to serve my own purposes but I’m just doing the same thing, dwelling on the shit. And the shit, says Ram, will return if I keep thinking about it.

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