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There are ebbs and flows and dips and crescendos and all other assorted oscillations that encapsulate my mood, altered from stimuli that are increasingly incessant--while frequently more pleasant than not--have indisputably aided in my perennial apathetic run. The difference? I'm still above water academically, with greener pastures still in the future. With some formal training, this mound of butchered and processed raw hamburger that has made being solid off-the-cuff natural can condense and mutate into something entirely different, something unfathomable, unparalleled in its control and filled to the brim with utter disregard towards previous reservations of expression attributed to self-conscious factors and a general lack of focus. Some of us simply dawdle about the day, uninterested by the processes that are deemed essential to our survival. We maximize our loafing and enjoyment factor while coasting through this process, because it's about the only break you'll get for 30 or 40--or 50, but I don't see any of us making it to 60--years. But that time is coming to a close. In retrospect, I have done things my way, and though it hasn't always been the best path of resistance, it has definitely taught me more about both my expectations for happiness and self--and the expectations of others. At this age, in this time of sarcasm and hyper(HYPER)-materialism, over-stimulation and unemployment, I feel that lesson will prove more beneficial than any kind of massive success could have, at least personally. I was simply born annoying, born to let you know what I think except when it really matters. Placed on this Earth as a counter-example to many of my peers, the other half of the coin. The tendency to stick up for unpopular beliefs sometimes makes the devil's horns coalesce to the visage of his advocate.

Is there any dishonor in leaving your native country when part of the country's problem is you? The stories of poor immigrants bereft of opportunity and choices always plucks at the heartstrings of self-aware Americans, but what if an individual's exodus is predicated upon their own excesses and a lack of exploitative subjects? From a certain lens in a certain light, it seems like abandonment of a society in favor of a "better" one, with no regard to the society that has donated their pennies for the building of a family empire.

Two examples stick out clear as day from different parts of the world. A friend of my father's was from the India/Pakistan border pre-Gandhi, born into a relatively wealthy family the likes of which had finer material goods and political weight than most "rich" Americans. After the removal of the British (of whom the family's wealth was indebted to for purposes and reasons unknown), the family had giant targets on their back, and the death of Gandhi left them no quarter whatsoever. The children were shipped to the U.S. and the parents were killed prior to their escape, murdered and ransacked. Casey (one of the sons who escaped) has lived with a hefty and hasty inheritance his entire life while manning a meager-but-respectable gas station. His son is a surgeon, his daughter a microbiologist, performing their practice on Americans, not allowed to return to India due to deep-rooted blood oaths.

The second example is bit more nebulous, based once again upon the lack of information. A friend of a friend is from Kosovo. Once again, the family is hyper-wealthy in a land of war and desolation, being--from the source's mouth--"one uf de richest family in Ko-so-vo". However, unlike the typical depictions of Slavic peoples from Hell itself, this individual lives like an American playboy, complete with the same half-assed set of values and love of transient material goods. He runs a shitty "Italian" restaurant, doing little more than collecting a paycheck in order to fuel the good times. Considering there is never any business there, the whole thing stinks of a money laundering front.

While the American axiom for the accumulation of wealth is "Ask me no questions, I tell you no lies", the ethics upon which both of these situations dwell are broken. The wealthy Indian family was in cahoots with a government suppressing the rights of people, and while revenge and murder are deplorable, is fiscal and social death any less degrading to the human condition? If one family practically owns a whole town (county, prefecture, what have you), and that town is squalid with no hope of revitalization, how can it not be attributed to corruption and societal ambivalence in the hands of the mighty? In conjunction with the powerful's desire for their children to "have a 'better' life", it seems two-faced, an acknowledgement that "yes, while we have had a hand in making this world rotten, we wish to not expose our children to the lack of opportunity we have created for others here in this nation, instead letting them fly across the Atlantic on the gold of the poor".  Perhaps the romanticism of immigration is undeserved, even as our cultural values mirror those of the faux barons that are flooding their dollars and decisions into our society. Or perhaps these same people flock to a like-minded mindset: "I'm out to get mine; fuck everyone else". It's a big playground, with lots of weak kids with great toys. Welcome home.

.(As a foreword: We've had a couple coyotes loping around our property recently, looking for foods and new territory to stake. They're big, grey and dangerous)

The children screamed and ran towards the garage, attempting to attract someone--anyone--stronger and more capable than them. My father, the most obvious candidate, is nowhere to be seen or found. It's up to me to be the hero. As I walk out of the garage, clutching a pillow of all things, the reason for the distress is realized in the form of a coyote. Bared fangs, massive body of fur and a bloodthirsty temperament. The hunger is leaking out of every pore, a picture of the ravenous. I'm paralyzed by fear and the knowledge that I cannot win this fight, the pillow my only source of comfort. As the animal looms closer, ever the more menacing, Harley jumps in between the two of us, ready to defend with everything his stout and honest heart has to offer. He knows he can't win...but he doesn't care. All he saw was that which he loves threatened at the very core of its existence, and that was enough to spring him into action. As the wild animal rips him apart patch by patch, his blood and tongue and viscera making a sick confetti,  all I can do is stand and watch nature once again annihilate civility and honor. The last bastion of fellowship has been destroyed by the hunger of the wild.

Regardless of whether or not the metaphysical properties of Karma exist, its governance over human actions proves itself time and again. It might be more akin to the idea of "making your own luck", the belief that putting one's self in a position with a high chance of fortune is how successful/lucky people are able to seem like they're making all the right moves. What if one makes a lot of the wrong ones, especially in the realm of conduct towards others? If not immediately, will those negative decisions manifest themselves, a guaranteed reality-check?

From my experience, I have to say yes. While it's been something definitely addressed since, my youthful self could treat people like they were both ignorant and worthless. The hubris of my own superiority, my own capacity to understand faster left little-to-no sympathy for others, no respect for their boundaries and definitely no space in my repertoire for menial tasks and hard-earned rewards. The world was mine because it was entitled to me, and I was simply supposed to be there when it happened. The past 4 years have been an unravelling process, a slow, humbling decay of that body armor that refused to let anything either in or out. While this transformation is not complete--and probably never will be--the lessons I have learned from my own pride have shaped (or are shaping) me into something more compassionate, more willing to defend others.

Now I find myself looking in at a situation somewhat similar to my own, 3 years behind. This individual was a successful, popular (though saying 'likeable' is a stretch) beautiful young woman with everything a girl could want. While she was riding a high tide, she treated others like they were inferior and made no concessions for strangers; to be jovial to someone who 'didn't matter' was an unrealistic expectation. The template of high-school socialization makes that okay, but once out of that sandbox it becomes a crippling character flaw that is punishable by isolation. Karmic properties have touched this person and effectively pulled the carpet out from underneath her. One who seemed proud now cannot hide the look of a wounded dog, even when her bravado screams invulnerability at the top of its lungs. That bravado, if not extinguished, will make the whole process exponentially more difficult to conquer, making life a struggle instead of a romp.

Like I said, I am sympathetic; I have been--and been seen--in these shoes. As the sufferer, both are horrible: you lose friends, you lose time and you lose yourself to a certain degree. What might be worse is the fact that, while in this state, people tend to look for escape ladders--in the shape of others. Everything becomes internalized while in this state: your perceptions of what "you need" to get out is usually sheer id and will in reality damage your growth as a person, prolonging this disaster. Yet for some people, myself included, it seems that is the only way to learn: a complete crash and burn, with every sleepless night full of worth-questioning and 'why me?''s simultaneously destroying the old self and rebuilding the new one. But that's the important lesson: with destruction comes re-creation, and the levelling of one foundation implies that another, more complete edifice has the potential to be built. Crucify the ego before it's too late.

I am pretty sure that everyone I know thinks I am off my rocker, all the way off until my head is in the clouds in left field. That has to explain the lack of approachability, that "look at it through the plexiglass but don't feed it" mentality. Is it a vibe I give off? It used to be that people thought I was something to flock towards, something that could perhaps be beneficial to be around. Now both friends and employers don't want to speak to me, don't want me working for them. Last week I found out that Oakley's convenience store (2 miles from my house) hired a 16 year old girl in the position that I was more qualified for: I have two years of cashier experience and a reliable work record. So...why then did I not get this job?

It has to be confidence. I come into an interview trying to put up the most confident, agreeable front ever attempted by a bipedal organism. They say "be yourself", but we all know that people at best find me wildly eccentric, and at worst to be an overeducated Ignatius J. Reilly type. In reality, I am not like Reilly during (serious; this was just a stab in the dark) interviews; I am passive, approachable and respectful, though I think a lot of people in these fields mistake my eloquence (if you'd call words like "egregious", "optimal" and "repetroire" eloquent) for condescension. I can't help that I utilize an extensive bag of vocal tricks, and I can't help that people sometimes simply don't understand what I'm talking about. But my rationalizing has always been that you'd want well-spoken, educated people working for your establishment (God, that sounds like Ignatius).

Another big (har har) part of it is personal appearance. The reason I didn't get that job at Oakley's? Wayne likes looking at 16 year old snatch and he's not a homo who has a thing for BBM's, which is halfway cool in my book.  I'll admit that I don't help myself on a daily basis as far as appearance is concerned (shaving in particular), but whenever go to an interview or work itself, I look the part. Everything's tucked in and pressed, my hair (what little is left) is styled, my pearlies glow a bit more and I even use some of that Proactiv crap that my sister swears by. But, as we have discussed, these efforts ususally result in--you guessed it!--nothing.

I end with a question posed at everyone who may read this, though I feel I may only get one or two responses at best:
Do people put up with the current situation in the U.S. because they feel powerless?

Earlier today I gathered all of my grades together in order to see how much I lacked on my Associate's degree at Forsyth Tech, and the results are embarrassing (keep in mind I started FoTech in the Summer of '07):

Passed Courses:
ENG 111
ENG 232
ENG 241
ENG 275
HIS 121
HIS 122
HIS 131
HUM 120
PSY 150
POL 110
REL 110
SOC 210

What remains:
ANT 210
BIO 110
BIO 111
CIS 110
CIS 115
COM 120
JOU 216
MAT 140
PED-random
REL 211

Next Semester's lined up for another 12 hours, not enough to mathematically tackle what I lack in a year. The registrations are closed (be it for whatever reason). The upcoming semester is looking like this:

ENG 112
MAT 140
REL 211
JOU 216

Which leaves:

ANT 210
BIO 110
BIO 111
CIS 110
CIS 115
COM 120
PED-random

left to finish in one semester and maybe a Summer course if UNCA will give me a tentative accepted status. If I can't pass 4 classes in which I am adept, what are the odds of fully passing a semester where I have to take Biology? That's right, very low. Frankly, I'd trade off some of my natural aptitude for some good ol' fashioned work ethic/ability to "put up" with things/feelings of immediacy.

I can't quit school; it's the only avenue I have that will lead to a life that is both financially solid and personally gratifying. We all know that people without at least a bachelor's in the 21st century are reduced to serf on the ladder, and that those with Bachelor's aren't that much higher. So, instead of calling out the entities that have forced these black-and-white avenues, I have to dive in. I have to become adept at their qualifications in order for me to be successful in my life...and I'm paying them for it. Sorry, but it's hard not to feel like a sad sappy sucker when the only thing that Secondary Education has done for me is aid in shattering my self-esteem.

Does anyone else think it's as impossible as I seem to believe it is?

To open up a bit, I have to say that the last two women I were interested in had a unique-yet-similar approach to dating/hooking up: they play the field and the numbers. While one of them led to a hookup, they both were abruptly silenced after the fact within a couple days. I'm not as bad as used to be about "picking out the signs" or whatever you want to call it. Those two were pretty into what I had to offer.

Maybe I'm just an anomaly, but I don't make Venn diagrams to weigh the pros and cons of potential dates. I find a person I like that I think likes me and try and run with it. Personally, it feels cheap when I corral potential partners like they were bananas in a produce stand. I don't like being considered one of many, especially when it comes to affection of that nature. It's like they have doubts about you and want a way out of the door, just in case.

Fortunately, I don't have this happen very often because I am unattractive (read: fat), which means I might as well be invisible to the opposite sex. Even fat girls have unrealistic standards. It's because they're girls, which is synonymous with "Vainglorious, self-absorbed mounds of flesh and vapid stupidity, no matter how intelligent or self-aware they are". Mom thinks that I'll be single  for a majority of my 20's unless I go after an older woman with more stability and perspective of reality.  To that I say, "What 25-30 year old new professional with potential would want to be with a 22 year old who lives with his parents, has no job and is not even halfway done with college?" That's right, none.

On top of that, when it comes to finding a partner, what is prioritized? As a person, which do I crave more in my life: A partner who shares the same interests and passions as I do, or someone who my personality melds with in spite of having little in common? (Sexual attraction is the constant in there, of course.) I don't expect a perfect person to just hop along and scream "Take me to the movies/fuck me/give me your last name/let's raise our children outside of King", but I have a feeling that a majority of the opposite sex does.
-----------------------------------------------------------INTERMISSION---------------------------------------------------------

As you have probably deciphered, I have a low opinion of most women. Most of it is because of the analysis in Fight Club, that idea that masculinity (and millions of years of masculine reckoning/perspective/instinct) is being castrated. The most blatant example? This:

There's a lot within this one person that serves as an indicator. In case you don't hang around with women ages 12-50, this metrosexual piece of androgyny is Robert Pattinson, better known under his assumed name/perceived persona, Edward Cullen from Twilight. Women in the aforementioned age range swoon over this guy, and I don't know why. To me he exudes a minimal amount of masculinity, his facial hair being the only true indicator of him having a cock and balls. He's scrawny, delicate and has terribly-styled hair. He looks like he couldn't protect a Chuck-E-Cheese from a 4 year old without having to use a gun. In short (P.C. switch turned completely off), he's a faggot. Y'know what? He's worse, because he doesn't have to deal with the slings of intolerance like actual homosexuals (see above). If I was a gay man, I'd be ashamed that someone thought he was gay.

Like I said, it's not just Pattinson's looks. The movie that made him (the only thing he'll ever do worthwhile) is based upon a book marketed to girls ages 12-18. After hearing about it from a friend (who is forced to know due to his girlfriend) and reading on wikipedia the rest, it's easy to see how media like this can fill a 12 year old girl with unrealistic expectations of "perfect love at first sight that is enduring throughout the ages", implying that there is no real hard work in relationships and that you should expect paved roads of gold at all times. Seeing how a lot of young women in my age range behave regarding all of that, it's hard for me to deny the correlation. Furthermore, in the second book of this series, this couple's unbreakable love is quickly shattered when Bella (female lead, horrible name) discovers a werewolf who is just too dreamy. She leaves Edward pretty abruptly considering all the superlatives and boasts she made. The problem? I see girls doing that same shit all the time.

It's a given that I think media shapes people, gives them impressionable expectations, especially since I think the majority of people are pretty easy to manipulate blatantly. In the same way that shows like Hannah Montana and iCarly (what the fuck) are teaching my Niece to become a sassy, ultra-self-absorbed 4 year old complete with stock "witty comebacks" (you have to hear it to understand), media like Twilight is pedigreeing girls to never give us dudes a chance unless we fit every.single.bit. of their criteria. Because the moment that the dream isn't real is when the dawn truly breaks.

P.S. Fuck Twilight.

In the land of 10% unemployment, all the scratching and clawing for trickle-scraps and funny money is recorded by someone in a big computer room with thousands of monitors is laughing his ass off at your scrambling. This flaccid abomination undoubtedly gets a kick out of your primal instinct that is observed and documented as a modern tragedy. Then they broadcast it back to you later on the evening news. The joke is that those people are getting rich, juicy stories, Peabody's, Emmy's and Murrow's off your own personal nightmare.

This man in the monitor room is also able to track and monitor your online applications from UNICRU,  another one of those "we justify ourselves through anything but user practicality" companies that believe in the prinicple of bending someone over and sticking a chainsaw up their ass every time they want to look for a job. Unicru has become the new store manager: it can assess you with the same total lack of perception, but you don't have to pay it and it never commits suicide in the store because its mother was ashamed of it.

UNICRU always asks some whopper questions mulitple times, like "Have you worked for this employer before?" No, and I'm pretty sure FinishLine didn't hire me in the 10 minutes that have passed since you asked me THE SAME FUCKING QUESTION. If that wasn't insulting to the human character enough, there's always the questions that are disguised as profile-makers, like "Have you or your family recieved SSI (Social Stabilitly Income) for the past 6 months?" That's another way of saying, "Are you poor?" Coupled with the crime, school and military records, a person could potentially create a tapestry for suicide. But then again, if you're a high school drop out who left the Army dishonorably and has been busted for pot more than once, you're probably not going to ever get out of your hometown and tax bracket; you're not wanted anyways. Go sit on a traffic island and be ignored by people.

But nothing, NOTHING sucks the life out of an individual more than their surveys. The UNICRU "Character Assessment Survey" is the biggest crock of shit ever purposefully thought of as a good idea. The questions are vague to the point of regarding consideration, yet the emphasis is upon finishing quickly. Example:

1,204,693. Sometimes I feel sad and I don't know why.
        A. Strongly Agree
        B. Agree
        C. Disagree
        D. Strongly Disagree

Well, after going through the gamut of human emotions I feel in a given day, I'd have to say that yes, I do feel sad sometimes without knowing why. But does that random feeling of random melancholy  mean I can't put shoes on some bro or sell a TV to a gangsta slangin' stocks at cut-throat rates? Where does that connection come into play? The question has no bearing upon anything I would be doing at the job, plus the answers aren't even answers at all. There's no context to what I put, no real need for understanding why I selected the answer, which would be far more useful in sizing up me as both an employee and a person than me simply "Agree"-ing that I don't know why I randomly feel sad maybe four times a fucking month while I'm falling asleep. Maybe I'm afraid of dying, who the fuck knows or cares?

UNICRU does nothing positive for the applicant. WIth the turnover rates in retail these days, it doesn't seem to be doing much for the employer, either. Maybe "wheedle industries" like UNICRU, HMO's and outside Cell Phone insurance companies (another time for that) will go the way of the dodo, given the expense doesn't justify the caliber of their services. Maybe one day we'll be able to let them hear our assesment: STRONGLY DISAGREE.