Journal

Scary. I found this on my old floppy disks that I have been culling all my old papers off of. I attempted to start an electronic journal of my own back in 1991, the fall after high school graduation. I remember that time as being hard on me. I was a big fish in small Somonauk, Illinois, and I was thrust suddenly into a much larger world at Northern Illinois University. I wasn't even living there, I was commuting as Somonauk was only about 30 minutes away from DeKalb. Somehow, the best quote to come of this was the entry that simply says, "woo-woo." Somehow, that sums up my college years.

October 23, 1991

I don't want to go to college anymore. I'm not into it. I'm confused: why did I go through all of that high school graduation crap if I was just going to school another four bloody years? Who gives a flying fig that I was Salutatorian? What difference does that make now? I don't want college taking over my life the way it is. In high school I hardly ever studied. I joked today that in high school I studied by closing my book. I always got A's, without even trying. I don't like it now that I'm losing. I want to start whatever bloody job I'm going to do for the rest of my life NOW. I don't want FOUR MORE YEARS!!! What bloody difference is it going to make in four years whether or not I know how Louis Phillipe of France lost his throne? I want college only to be a small part of my life, so I can do all of the other things that I enjoy. Find myself? Shit, I'm lost so deep I'll never get out.

October 24, 1991

At least all that college stuff is over. Today all I did was my own stuff, read comics, started a book I've been meaning to read, and just wewaxed. I did the new draft for English and that was it. You see, that is the way I want college to be, just a little part, not domineering my entire life. Well, time to read some more comics.

October 25, 1991

I got my first speeding ticket today. I'll cite later exactly how it happened. I just feel so bad. Why is it when things are going badly for me it pours down with more bad things than I can mentally handle? Why does it seem that I'm drowning? I'm changing my major and that seems to be a good decision but I'm not sure. It's the only thing I'm interested in anymore. I just feel like a little kid that came home with a note from the teacher, a bad note. He knows he's going to get hit with the wrath of the parents. The thing is: I'm 18, almost 19, why do I feel like that little kid? Why do I have to still answer to my parents? I don't really think that they're going to yell at me, just be disappointed. I'm the one that has to pay my insurance. Why am I afraid of my parents still?

October 27, 1991

The talk with my parents went well. The first thing my dad said was: "Cops are all pricks." I thought that was pretty cool.

October 28, 1991

woo‑woo

November 4, 1991

This journal will be kept for when I really need to talk about something. Until then. . .

January 2, 1992

Tonight I threw a surprise birthday party for my best friend Brian Fauth. We ended up going to see Star Trek VI at Dekalb, the WE being myself, Brian, Scott Hallaron, Tabitha Hix, and her sister Hali. On the way home, we talked about some amazing things, specifically religion and our concept of God. I just want to know what He is. I just want to know if there actually is an afterlife and just what we do until Judgement Day when we get there. Tabitha talked about the Spirit. Frankly, as much as she believed in it and explained it, I don't buy it. If I was just some disincorporated spirit waiting to be put upon the Earth to gain experience, (I don't really want to say "Why bother?") why not just start out at the human level in the first place? That's what I believe.
Our all around concept of God seemed to differ. "Man was created in God's image." Says who? It seems to be quadruped is the norm of the world. I believe that it was just all that God could think of? Now really, how many science fiction writers have come up with an acceptable alternate form of life in the galaxy? Nothing else seems to work. Look at my dog, and my bird, and that ant crawling around in the corner. You can't tell me there isn't some particular derivative. I do see God sitting in his chair as an old, powerful man with Jesus at one side. But that's the only way we can see him. To tell the truth, I believe God is the embodiment of the universe, some corporal idea that manifested itself together to become supreme. We are all part of God, as an arm is a part of myself. God did not come form anything, God is the origin of everything. This is what I believe to this point. I am going to make an effort to read these books that Tabitha had quoted from, these books that are to tell me all my answers that I need to know. I cannot wait the rest of this lifetime plus the wait until Judgement Day to find my answers from the Source Himself. I must find out, because it is tearing at my heart that I do not know. And it is my heart, that embodiment of my morals, honor, and spirit. To all of you: I believe in God to the utmost degree. I believe in something kind, gentle, and caring, with a patience that we cannot begin to fathom. I believe in my Maker as I believe in my parents and their corporeality. I just want to know the origins and the endings, as I would my favorite character, Hamlet. You must know the origins to understand the play, you must understand the ending to know what happens next.

28 October 1992

Well, I'm back. I know it's been ten months but I've been busy. With all the school crap and work garbage going on, I haven't barely had five minutes to myself. And when I do get time, I simply like to read my comic books or novels. This journal is supposed to be an outlet for all my frustrations and ramblings. So, starting tomorrow (if I can get into it), I will pick a topic a day and write for a while on it. It'll kind of be a Henry David Thoreau/J.D. Salinger thing.