As of today revisited

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Obviously I dont have anything more than a rough idea of what I would enjoy doing for a living. Perhaps teaching, as a professor at a university? Or perhaps trying to make it as a musician, of any sort, really, perhaps a seat in a symphony. But how do I just decide arbitrarily what will be best for me? Take chances here? I'd rather not. Philosophical thought, to me, is a stable, logical and therefore trustworthy way of reasoning. Philosophical thought is a rather broad term, I know. What I really mean is certain methods of the aforementioned elements are garnished with the also aforementioned traits, respectively .This is why a major in Philosophy, to me, just makes more sense than anything else at the moment. I could find myself as a neurosurgeon in thirty years for all I know, on the other hand I could be dead. Until I have practiced these "stable, logical and therefore trustworthy" methods of thinking to a satisfactory degree, in accordance to myself as well as those in this field more knowledgeable than I, I see no hope in trying to dream up a future for myself.

If this strikes anyone on a discordant note, please, explain why, and tell me how you would reason this differently.

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OH man...

Sorry, this wasnt intended to be a space where I document my dreams, but this one is just too fweird (yes, the word is a combination of fuckin and weird)

There are some parts I definitely wont write, because theyre just too...wrong.

Go home to visit family, only to find my dad has bought a ferrari. What?

Then I look at my car, which now has huge wheels, and a weird painjob...I rush to my car, only to find the license plate is different, then I see mine just a few feet away, in its normal condition...except...

I go up to it, to see that some punks have spraypainted all over it, and keyed the paint off in some places! Like..this is really bad!

My dads deceased best friend is sitting on the front wheelwell, pondering life. He refuses a ride when I offer it.

When I finally enter the vehicle, there is a strong smell of primetime cigarettes (yeah, little cigars? I call em cigarettes, bitch, cant hide shit from me). I think, "shit! someone has been using my car for a smoking spot? Not chill! I Move around in my seat a bit, and I hear someone grunt behind me. Now this shit is just too weird to comprehend. Someone is hiding in my car? What? I turn around, only to realize that the back bench seat (which comes up to reveal a small storage space/ the car's battery compartment) seem strangely out of place, it lifts up, to reveal Kristin sitting on Sohrob's lap. Kristin is still holding a bud light in her hand, and her first words are "how did I get here? I dont remember coming in here."

Sohrob just sits there.

Fuckin' Sohrob....

I did drive my dad's ferrari in my dream, and it was sick as fuck.

As of Today

I have a purpose---

to learn how to think, to analyze how others have thought, to analyze how and why they may have thought these thoughts.

And most importantly, to figure out how NOT to think is my primary goal here.

These are my preconceived thoughts, officially, on what I feel the purpose of my Philosophy major should be. I will be a little more specific as things go forward.

dreams

dreams somehow giving me the idea that i need to worry about books i didnt read two quarters ago, that they will somehow affect my current state of affairs when in fact it is all said and done. i have said it before and will say it again: i create stress for myself habitually. I dont understand why. It's like the rain here, always coming and going, all the while getting me down on myself. Sometimes I just wish I could put my body on autopilot and just sit in a corner somewhere and read all the books in the world that interest me. Enough of this tangent positive sine positive cosine secant bullshit. Enough of this gobbelty gook that occupies my thoughts.

Although to be honestly, at the moment all is really quite well, the above was merely a meditation on past thoughts and events if anything at all.

this post

is blank

I was driving along a road, staring out the back window, when suddenly...

I was flying, really high, not in the traditional wings spread, belly down, head first sort of way, but rather as if I were paragliding: with my ass first, my feet tucked in front of me, my arms were hanging on to an invisible bar...yet...I could control my direction. As I continued to fall, I begun to have doubts of how and where I would land. Everything is moving so quickly, my surroundings were a green brown and golden blur of what seemed to be some valley in the Santa Cruz/Monterey area, I saw a tree to the bottom right...and then...

My friend was flying right next to me, he started speaking in my ear, rapidly, urgently, yet all he was telling me is how his band broke up. There was such an air of importance and desperation in his tone, and the next thing I knew I had landed, facing backwards, sliding on my ass/back (ass soon as gravity pulls me down on to my back..) I slid, slid, slid for maybe 100 feet, not enduring any pain, just sliding, until I finally came to a halt. I rolled over to face a long line of spectators, some not paying any attention, others pointing and chuckling.

Thats about the time I woke up, and my head felt really heavy.

[end]