Scrolling down was bad...

I organized my “Documents” folder by the Date Modified tab tonight and bummed myself right out. I think I was looking for funny ideas I could steal from old Barak, so I scanned the last year or so. And, yeah, nothing that funny was written within. But things got lamer right after that. Cause I went back, back to when I thought different and who knows, maybe I was different.

“Oh yeah,” I thought, “that was right around the time I moved out here.” There were files of business card designs for discarded little business ventures I wanted to try. You have to do something to eat out here. Then I saw some stories I wrote that were so bittersweet, so longing, so confused. “Oh, yeah, that was right after I got fired.” And the stories were so skewed, so wanting to be hopeful. But they weren’t.

Then I saw the Word Documents titled “Confession” and “Resignation.” I opened one, found it still makes my stomach seize up two years after and closed it right back down. I want to delete them, but I’m not gonna. Maybe just to show them to my kid someday when he screws it up real bad. I bet you a hundred dollars it’ll make my stomach seize up then, too.

I remember reading one in front of everyone I cared about and I’m not going to finish this sentence. The other was made into several copies and probably passed around to the board. I wonder if it’s still sitting in a file somewhere there.

I scrolled further down. I had forgotten how just before then I was writing a book. I had twelve chapters written. Boy, I guess I had it really figured out. Lots of answers. I thought I understood enough about life and God and the mysteries of the universe enough to share my vast knowledge with the paying public. “Say, gang! This is how things are!” The real kicker is that if I was to go through all the chapters, I’m sure they’d still be pretty good. I actually did have a thing or two figured out, but I’d rather paint over the canvas and start over.

I want to say “but then things came crashing down,” but truth be told I probably kicked it all down. Out of embarrassment, out of spite, but also because I just didn’t know anymore. I was proud of the book, but I’m not writing it anymore, and that’s going to be that about that.

And further below that in my Documents is another life, with other people, and other dreams. Well, maybe the same dreams, just different words. Same me, I guess. I miss my old friends.

Today I caught myself letting my mind wander to little scenarios that will never take place. I certain person or two appeared in the room I was imagining. And they offered their hands to me with a nice smile. And then I told them to go to hell, or maybe I gave them the finger. Actually, I spent probably a good ten or fifteen minutes today trying to come up with something just the right mixture of classy and classless to let them know they dicked me over pretty bad.

But I finally sat up and realized how sad it was and made myself stop. But I’ll think it again, I bet.

I like where I am. Don’t know if I’m better for everything that happened, but whatever. I did what I could to make things right, and now I’m here. But one thing I ought to do, and this would really make my life so much better, is to put all that junk on a hard drive and hide it in the bottom of some laundry pile so I don’t accidentally screw up another Thursday night.