They kicked me out of jail

This is overly dramatic but looking at many of the blog entries I've written and not published in the last six months, I was feeling really dramatic and tortured. One is called "I'm living the Milgrim experiment." And I felt like I was! I felt so awake and thirsty and fearless, watching the souls I love get either more bruised or less alive. It felt really massive and took over my whole brain. I would try to relax and get perspective and still end up feeling like I was in a spiritual struggle on the level of Star Wars. I may have lost and by losing, I may have won.

And now?

I walked into that place three years ago and already knew what was going to happen, and then forgot to remember because it was happening. That's no one's fault. And then I couldn't leave; I couldn't quit; I had fallen in love with the kids and staff and the Fight, so I dared them to fire me and they did. They continue to act like dicks, for that is what they are, shady and small throughout, and I act all righteous and intense, for that is what I am, and so it goes.

Now my job is managing my anxiety and having faith that everything is going to work out okay. I'm suddenly broke and without the identity I had before, so my little sister has me watch Jerry McGuire ("Even the cover looks like Catcher in the Rye.") So I took my stand, and then this happened, and then the next thing will happen.

I'm also trying to get ready to miss all that love. Little Sister and I went home real quick to meet the new baby Martin, Future CEO, and to see the Cousins, so that should tide me over; a sleeping baby on my chest and one million jokes, jokes, jokes with boys is concentrated good vibes on the level of love from locked-up kids.

I'm applying for jobs, meeting professional contacts for lunch, cancelled the cable TV, cashed in some spare change, and soon I'm going to the bank to figure out what is an IRA? I'm assuming it is not The IRA, which by the way, is another example of power corrupting. There was a heart-breaking journalism piece in the recent McSweeney's, did you read it?

Power buys you the right to stop asking questions of your own behavior, and that's the greatest dope, right? To just zone out into a soft land of self-acceptance. Which appears, sadly, to leave no room for accepting anyone else, or maybe that's just me. So. I'll be over here, not watching TV, not spending money, just trying to remember that everything is going to be okay.