chat with my dad in the car

"I had this friend, he drove a love bug around all the time, for ten years he drove a love bug. He checks meters for a living, at my age, he checks meters!I think he was an english major or something like that. He must've smoked too much pot."

Two minutes before...

"I lost it all, I got two pai gow hands, two nine highs when I tried to bank. I shouldn't have gone. I knew it. I was too hungry. I think I'm sick. Maybe god doesn't want me to play anymore. I've hit rock bottom... I wanted to give you some money... now I don't have anything. That 800 grand my parents gave me... it's all gone, can't pay for your student loans... I guess it can't get any worse."

At this point he puts his hand on my knee and says, "You'll be fine. Don't worry. You're smarter than me."

Maybe, maybe not. I flushed the rest of the coke I bought a few days ago down the toilet, settling to smoke joints tonight and fall asleep early. I haven't practiced guitar or exercised in a month. These small blog updates I've been doing lately are the only things worth noting, and even then, I'm not so sure. I leave for Florida in a week. I'd like to live by this creed:

if you really think you're smart, then don't do stupid things. I'd like to be the best of myself, not just exercise, not just writing or artistic pursuits. I don't want to blame the degree I got in college to be the sole reason I don't make it financially in my adulthood. That's not an excuse whatsoever. It's a lack of passion and drive that destroys us. I'm not an entertainer, I just like to amuse myself. And exercise was greatly amusing. Uke was more amusing than guitar, and drums more amusing than that. I miss keyboard. I'm going to goad my friend Matthew into buying one while I'm in Florida. I'd like to get into shape for the beach, but that is sort of a dead end in terms of fulfillment as well. Maybe not. I'm not sure music is the answer either. Is writing? Not the way I've been doing it. I'm talking myself into a circle, I've been talking about the same crap for four or six years now, writing writing writing film film film music music music. Maybe it HAS been the pot holding me back. Probably. There's a balance to be struck. I haven't met anyone that truly inspires me in quite a long while. After a certain amount of time, you can see the insecurity in everybody. I should be the role model my dad never had. At least I can learn from his mistakes, I still have time. And I have time to discover what I want to be. If that's the only problem I have (other than needing to quit smoking tobacco) I think I'll be alright.