Written January-May, 2005

Never write while stoned and on mushrooms. While listening to Frankie Laine. Wait, I had a little salvia, too. Three gel caps of ayahuasca plant material? A normal night, then. So, I just got fired and I figured I'd go back to school and make the government pay for my rent for a while with the G.I. bill. Should've done this long ago. And I'd figure I'd write a book about my adventure as that shit goes on, y'know? It's 7:46 p.m. in Fillmore, CA and I haven't eaten yet today. I didn't get up that late, either. Nine something. Mostly just read and messed around online. Now I'm writing a book. How did that happen? That's not a normal event in my daily schedule. Writing used to be a priority, but not lately. I'll spit out song lyrics, the odd ranting anti-war/anti-everything-popular-right-now poem, but I never just suddenly decide to write a book. It's Sunday. I got a Heatmiser album in the mail today. How is that? I'm going to go relax now. And eat.

First day of school today. Should have been second, but it's been raining armageddon sized buckets of rain in socal lately. Both roads to school flooded. If I had a truck with oversized tires like my neighbor I could have made it. The road I usually take was still closed today, so I had to take a much longer route and just barely made it. The teacher was late anyway. The class I have on Tuesdays and Thursdays is Math: Pre-Algebra. Basic math, simple stuff. I aced geometry and algebra in high school, but a lot of time has passed since then. A lot of time spent doing things other than math. A lot of time spent doing things other than math while stoned. This should be my easiest class, though judging by what I experienced to day and what the teacher explained. Let me tell you folks, the world would be doomed if every one on earth suddenly died, except for my classmates and their instructor and we had to rebuild society. No Einsteins in there. No Edisons, and certainly, no Teslas. The teacher is a friendly hispanic man with a porn star mustache. In fact, his wardrobe and hairstyle scream sexdopeseventies. He made a mistake in working a problem from the textbook. I hadn't bought a book yet, but no big whoop, didn't need it that day and no homework assigned yet. Went to buy books after class, which cost me $395! The math book alone was $101! For six books. Went to Moorpark Library to return some books and ended up buying ten books for $1.00. ONE DOLLAR! And those are books that I actually want to read. Finished reading another amazing novel by Tom Robbins called Skinny Legs And All. A man after my own pen. The classes that I missed yesterday, I will attend tomorrow. The storm seems to have abated. I sweated a lot while sleeping this morning. Weird dreams. Oh yeah, I had taken a shot of Calea Zacatechichi extract: The Dream Herb, which I had not imbibed in for quite some time. But even the couple nights before that, some nervous restlessness and odd mind meanderings. Our arithmetic professor from the "me" decade "taught" us how to turn numbers in to words, and, whoah, numbers in to words. Three Hundred Ninety-Five!!

Introduced to Spanish and Physical Anthropology classes today. Not enjoying spanish so far. The teacher seems friendly enough, but she's going too fast. Don't like the textbook. It's hard to understand cuz it's written in spanish. Ay Caramba. And there's a distractingly attractive blonde in the class. After that (class is from 9-11:20 am) I studied in the library 'til my anthropology class (1-2:20 pm). I felt a tap on my shoulder while reading the syllabus for mi clase de español, which we are to be quizzed on, and turned around. It was a young lady I once worked with at J.D. Power & Associates named Christina. Not too long ago, before the latest farce they call an election, I'd received an angry email from this woman in reply to an email I'd sent to her and other acquaintances about Kerry actually winning, and the election (once again) being rigged. Not my theory, just stuff I'd read online that seemed to make an awful lot of sense. I didn't know she was a misguided Bush supporter, and was quite shocked to hear from her at all, let alone suddenly become the target of such vitriol. I sent a couple more messages, trying to maintain stooping to her profane, irrational encunciations, but no doubt still coming off as a pompous, self-righteous asshole (it comes naturally), and she quietly disappeared. Well, she was quite friendly to me inside the library, and I managed to be cordial, as well, and we discovered we were soon to be heading to the same classroom. I like my anthroplogy teacher. I should have no problem in that class. I'm interested in the subject and often read about human evolution, genetics, etc. for fun. I'll probably teach the teacher a few things. She's also very nice and down to earth. Stressed out past couple days due to Grimes Canyon still being closed and having to drive so far out of my way to get to school and back. Made extra trip to Thousand Oaks to visit brother at work (Domino's Pizza) and he wasn't there. He's always working! I was starving. I hadn't eaten all day and wanted some free pizza. Spent another $130 on spanish book. One Hundred Thirty! Ay Caramba, indeed! Más dinero. Still have astronomy and art history to go. May have taken on more than I can handle. Certainly couldn't do all this if I was working. May go broke while trying to educate myself. Whatever.

My math teacher, today, mistakenly came up with twelve when adding four and seven. There is a young gentleman who sits to the left of me with sores on his face, looks inbred, and is a little scary. About half of the class is already missing. Got to class two hours early, read anthology book and fought to stay warm. Left early cuz wasn't sure road'd be open. It was. In front of a church in Fillmore, a sign now reads: "The flooding could've been worse, Thank God!" Two Navy recruiters are stationed out front of the Campus Center, where the cafeteria and bookstore are located. In my gray suit and black turtleneck sweater, I stood out from the crowd among the casually dressed tatooed/pierced students, and one of the "petty" officers made a snide remark. They failed to recognize that my sweater was the same as they, doubtless, were issued, as I happen to have already served four miserable years in that stultifying branch of military. Any one who joins the service at a time like this is either stupid or suicidal and deserves to be killed in pointless war, so the intelligent members of this species can stay safe, reproduce, and pass along GOOD genes. Natural Selection. Darwin. Thank you very much. Send hatemail to: kennyandacurrantbun@yahoo.com. [Later, I would learn that my seventeen year old cousin is intending to join the marines.]

Had my first session for Art History class today (Saturdays 9-11:50 am). I think I'll enjoy it and seems easy. The teacher said she's not even supposed to be teaching that class. It's her first time, we're her "guinea pigs." Last night was Astronomy (7-8 pm). I'll only have to attend class two more times for the mid-term and final exams. It's a video course, so I'll be doing all the work at home. I like that we have the teachers emails and can contact them whenever we have a question about homework or whatever. Spent another $70 on books/videotapes for school. Been getting headaches since school started. Stress is something I've mostly gone without for the past year. Welcome old friend! Did spanish and art homework today, so have Sunday and Monday (no school, thank you Martin Luther King Jr) to focus on astronomy. Again, two more nice, easy-going teachers encountered in past couple days, though won't see much of the astro guy. Too bad, I wanted to discuss the star Sirius and how so many people throughout history have claimed to have received messages/predictions from intelligent life(?) from the brightest star in our galaxy.

Ahead of schedule with school work. Unlike highschool, where I did a lot of procras...wait, I wrote a poem a couple days ago. It's called

Dead Pacifists

must we be nice
to the parasites
and the virus only doing it's job?
my soul, they allow me to keep
but my life they wish to rob

I was just walking around my apartment when the first two lines popped in to my head. So, yeah, school's pretty easy so far. Which is not to say it's not stressful. I love reading and learning new things about the world I spend most of my time in. But it's different when yr being told what to study and being graded. Especially if you have to maintain a certain grade to receive your only income, from the government you hate. A slave to the real god: MONEY. Becoming what you hate. But at least there's drugs...and art, I suppose. I just started a painting of a big yellow happy face. Where the faces right eye should be I have a picture of George W. Bush, Jr. (leader of the "free" world). I haven't found a picture to put for the left eye yet. I'll have to look for one of the devil (leader of the "under" world). Bush is smiling and would be facing the aforementioned little troublemaker. No homework is assigned, apparently, for my anthropology class. Nice little plus there, eh? We watched a video today about the Galapagos islands and Darwin's finches. When the teacher asked, "So, why did I show you this video?" I should have said, "Because you're lazy?" To pass the time between the end of spanish class (10:50 am) and the start of anthropology (1:00 pm), I read Doestoevsky's The Grand Inquisitor in the library.

For thirty years, I've not been a fan of mushrooms (besides the special kind), and avoided them when I could. I decided to break that paradigm and last night had a turkey lasagna with three different kinds of mushrooms. I didn't mind the mushrooms, but the lasagna, as a whole, didn't seem to have much taste. Very bland. That's Safeway Select brand by the way. I've been eating a lot of turkey lately (turkey dogs, sandwiches, tortilla wraps), but not on purpose. After watching the movie "Supersize Me," which shows you the horrors of fast food (and especially makes McDonalds look bad), you should want to eat less fast food. I had already, in my slow inching towards vegetarianism, considerably lessened my visits to fast food (quick heart attack) establishments, but after viewing the film, I wanted a Big-Mac so fucking bad. Still do. But haven't. I guess I'm taking it out on the turkeys instead.
Test in math today. I was the first finished and out the door, so every one knows who the smartest student is now...or most impatient. I guess I could've taken some time to double-check my work, but it was so easy. Almost insulting. The teacher said it was going to be easy. "Too easy," in fact, to his liking. Afterwards I walked up to the library and checked out a book: The Cantos Of Ezra Pound, and a movie: "Blowup." Tried to take a nap, but ended up writing a couple poems, as I could not stop the flow of stream of words in my head. That's been happening when I dream, too. Constant words. Not like I'm dreaming about reading or about writing, necessarily...just words. Whether nonsensical or unbelievably deep with meaning I cannot say. Probably the former. I want to submit some poetry to The Moorpark Journal, like I did five years ago. I was crap then, but they published a few of my poems still. So, now I should have no problem getting work accepted. I have such a huge backlog. Went out last night and looked at stars and the moon. Found big dipper right away. Grabbed my astronomy book and tried to find more asterisms, constellations, and distant centers of worlds light years away. What speed do thoughts travel at? Or are they outside of time? More synchronicity with the number 23 lately. In anthropology class yesterday, the teacher mentioned Captain Bligh and the HMS Bounty. I wanted to look up some stuff online and the first website I arrived at contained this:

"HMS Bounty sailed from Spithead, England on December 23, 1787 with Captain William Bligh and a crew of 45 men bound for Tahiti. Their mission was to collect breadfruit plants to be transplanted in the West Indies as cheap food for the slaves. After collecting those plants, Bounty was underway toward home, when, on the morning of April 28, 1789, Fletcher Christian and part of the crew mutinied, took over the ship, and set the Captain and 18 members of the crew adrift in the ship’s 23-foot launch...When the famous explorer Captain James Cook was preparing to go to the Pacific for his third voyage, in HMS Resolution, Bligh was designated as his navigator. Bligh at the time was twenty-three...Captain Edward Edwards was given the assignment to take HMS Pandora to Tahiti and find the Bounty mutineers. Two Bounty midshipmen, Thomas Hayward and John Hallet, were also assigned to that mission to identify members of the crew. By the time Pandora arrived in Tahiti on March 23, 1791 there were only fourteen Bounty crewmembers there...After the mutiny, the Bounty first returned to Tahiti. Christian was elected captain, and the ship set off to find a place to live. The mutineers started, then abandoned a settlement on the island of Tubuai, and the ship again returned to Tahiti. Nine of the Bounty mutineers with six Polynesian men, twelve women and one baby left Tahiti onboard Bounty. They searched for and found, Pitcairn Island, which had been incorrectly charted years before. They found the island on January 15, 1790. After they took everything of value off the ship, HMS Bounty was burned on January 23, 1790 and the mutineers set up life on Pitcairn....January 23 is celebrated each year on Pitcairn Island as ‘Bounty Day.’"

Harpo's birthday is November 23. He's always been my favorite Marx Brother. I like people who don't talk.

Got all answers correct on math quiz. And homework. Class much smaller than that first day. I don't know who would drop it, though, it's the easiest class I've ever been in. Guy in front of me asked what the date was. I said, "The twenty-fifth." He replied, "Of...?" "January." What a moron. Tyler's his name. He got six answers (out of fifteen) wrong. Probems like 23,691+28,444. We had to go over that in class just for him. Notice the 23. I just looked through the rest of problems and answers to look for more 23's. There are none. Only the one in the problem number three. Which comes after TWO! Submitted a load of poetry to The Moorpark Review. Had five poems published in the 2001 issue. The editor, Hart Schulz, like my work and he's still in charge, so I expect more of my madness will soon be unleashed upon the campus. Not that anybody actually reads that thing. I never even read the one I was in. I looked at some of the work the put on the website from other poets. Pretty crappy stuff. I don't have much competition. Which saddens me, 'cuz I don't think I'm very good.

Got all answers right on anthropology quiz, which was a happy surprise. Only nine questions, eight multiple choice and one short-answer written, but also only twelve minutes to do it. I had a couple minutes to go over and changed a couple. Who says first choice, best choice? In spanish class we had to descrbe our friends. I said, "Mis amigos son perezoso, aburrido, y tonto." La profesora replied, "Bien, but I don't know if they'd want to be your friends if they knew what you were saying about them." I didn't say anything, but thought: Well, why would I want to be friends with a bunch of lazy boring fools?

Woke up this morning, positive that my alarm had gone off. I bolted upright in bed, but the alarm must have come from a dream, because my alarm was set for 6:02 am and it was 5:23. I failed to register this, got out of bed and turned on the heater. Then I realized what was happening, turned the heater off, got back in bed and went back to sleep. Dreamt I was in a record store. Every album I picked out doesn't exist in" reality."

On my first assignment for Art History (a short response to an essay written about a prehistoric statuette called "The Venus of Willendorf"), my teacher (Meg) wrote: "I can tell this will be an interesting semester. I hope I can keep up with you!" I don't know what to say about that. I think she's exagerrating. She certainly knows more about art than I do, and should remain the teacher in this relationship. Not that I can't teach her a thing or two...! I let her borrow Robert Anton Wilson's Cosmic Trigger III to read what he has to say about feminism.

Arriving to anthropology class early, I wrote a little poem on the chalkboard. An allele (pronounced "uhleel") is a type of gene and pleiotropy is when one gene has multiple affects on traits. So, I was laughing myself to sleep last night when I thought up this:

If the definition of pleiotropy causes you dismay
Here is a pun to help you remember:
Alelle goes a long way

No students seemed to have received any enjoyment from it, but the teacher liked it. She didn't ask who wrote it, though, and I didn't say anything.

Visited work to return a book to Jan and spent lunch with her and the other ladies I used to work with. Clara gave me my x-mas present: a t-shirt that says "I'm just here to get laid." Was touched by how much I seem to be missed at old JDP&A. Received a package of cookies, three hugs and a kiss. Found out finally how much money I'll be receiving from the government for going to school per month. Thought it would be between seven and eight hundred dollars, but turns out it's a grand.

Using CD-ROM that accompanied textbook for art history class to study and it's taking me to all these great websites linked to shamanism, the occult, altered-states of consciousness, etc. that I enjoy to visit already for fun. I'm getting paid to do what I used to do on my time away from work. Though taking tests and getting graded and being forced to remember information makes it less fun, more stressful.

Art History exam today. Pretty sure I aced that one. Some students complained that it was difficult. Not even! Half the test was lifted directly from the study guide. I could have answered the multiple choice questions without even reading the questions. Now we are going to cover Egyptian art and I am working on assignment #5, which will be due two weeks from now, as there is no school next Saturday. Teacher came in and read my paper for assignment #4 to herself, before starting class. I think I'm the only one who handed in an assignment this week. We don't have to turn in one every week, just as long as we turn in eight by the end of the semester. Most people didn't do this week's due to studying for the exam. Guess I'm the overachiever. I handed in half a page, in contrast to last week's five pager. She asked in mock disappointment, "I only get half a page today?" She'll get a long one, certainly, next time I see her, with two weeks to work on it and it being a subject I'm greatly interested in. I pointed out a mistake that my math teacher made in a sample problem on the board. It was a simple subtraction problem and he forgot to carry the two.

Neandertal

If evolution is to end in extinction
Between "us" and "them"
There can be no distinction

Everytime I log on to Yahoo! I see the world is going to shit. Why am I so happy, then? Because of being shown how to be an optimist and adjust my reality tunnel to a much nicer, more fun place to be than the pessimists in this world who need to feel guilt to justify their lives. The pessimists of which I used to share headspace with. The greatest achievement of my life has been to finally make some ground on freeing myself from the sad, dark world and widening my reality tunnel, which I hope someday will be a palace, where I will live happily with Robert Anton Wilson, Buddha, Leary, McKenna, Crowley, Tom Robbins and Harvey. And I'm simply too busy studying studying reading surfing online discussing crap like quantum physics, the ego, and synchronicity to get down or depressed. And I haven't drank since Jan 31, today is Feb 14--that's a long time for me. I'm too busy to drink! Went on little field trip across campus today for anthropology class to observe some primates. I'm so upset when I read about the imminent extinction of these wonderful creatures. There was a baby orangutan, five months, much more well-behaved than a human at that age. His mother dropped him from a tree and left him to die. He was rescued and is being raised by cute young girls at school. He's growing up in a great environment, he's a chick magnet! But he'll have to go soon, cuz the zoo there isn't big enough, or staffed with those who have enough expertise to handle what will eventually be a creature with the strength of all the men in my class combined, maybe stronger since you're including my weak ass in the count. People eat these animals. They're a delicacy, all kinds of apes. They hunt the chimpanzee--our closest living ancestor who we share 99% of our genes with. Though chimps aren't all that nice to each other, either. Some of us are still clinging to those inherited territorial aspects. The primates with those close set eyes, otherwise known as Republicans. And others of us are so far ahead, it hurts to live in the same world with those crazy bastards. How can you own anything? Everything is temporary, the most obvious being US. Even the sun and earth are just speedbumps in an infinite road. The never-ending story is OUR story. Stop trying to remember how the story started, quit wondering about how it's going to end, and just try to be the most outrageous character you can as you make your way through the pages of this life. A lot of folks seem to get off on living in a violent, depressing, boring novel. I prefer to live in a fun, happy, exciting, surreal, informative, sexy, enlightening novel, with each new chapter being successively funnier and brilliant! But, hey, that's just me. A lot of those primates will tell you being happy is akin to being insane. I don't think I'm insane. Do you?


Yes.

It is now May 15th, the day before the last day of school. This didn't turn out as planned. This is not a novel or book of any kind. It is a story. I got too busy with school to write on my off time. Except on these damn online communities, where I met a girl named Amber and fell and got broKEN once again. She was wonderful. She called me every night. I fell in love with the sound of her voice. She liked me at first, then as things became more and more comfortable, I opened up, told secrets, let some bad stuff out and ruined it. Her ex is coming back soon to visit. She is still in love with him. There is nothing I could do. She loves him, not me. I've never been struck by lightning. I wasn't so alone 'til I met this girl. She showed me, through the telling of her own experiences in relationships, what I have been missing my entire life. I have no experiences. I have been a complete loner social leper misfit seflish narcissistic insensitive asshole my whole life. Maybe one real friend, and that relationship has been on it's last leg for years. Little communication with family. Little communication with people in general. I find it hard to allow myself to care too much about people. I can't regulate my feelings. If I allow myself to empathize, I emapthize so completely that I feel their pain physically and it hurts, so I simply numb myself. Use buddhism to see through the lie of the "reality" of the world of feeling and sensation. No attachments. But that is only a part of me. It was losing badly to the love of Amber. I was open like never before. I cried half the time. Sometimes of sadness, sometimes of joy, always of Amber. I'm reading the book she was named after: Forever Amber by Kathleen Winsor. 972 pages long and I'll be thinking of the girl I can't have the whole time reading. I was overjoyed when she agreed to come visit. Then she changed her mind and everything was downhill from there.

At least this tumultous phone affair did not destract me to badly from my studies during finals. I'm pretty sure I got straight A's this semester. As long as I don't fail the spanish and anthropology tests tomorrow. And I was stoned almost every day through the semester. I plan on being stoned and maybe a tad tipsy throughout the summer, as well. It's the easiest way to be happy. I hope I never have to choose between a girl (love/sex) and drugs. That'd be a tough one. Other than Amber, there is still Chloe. I'd given up on Chloe long ago when she moved to Seattle to be with her boyfriend. Chloe never calls or sends me emails. I'd been thinking about Chloe when I started talking to Amber. Chloe called and we had a wonderful conversation. Turns out that relationship hasn't exactly worked out. I was crazy about Chloe. Not as much as Amber, but she'll do. She's extremely cute, intelligent, and funny. Another little trouble girl. I seem to attract a certain kind of damaged persona. Of which, of course, I am also. So I'll just focus on her now. Or not. Most likely I'll do nothing. I've been trying to stop going out of my way to make things happen. Shit always goes wrong when I do. I'll just sit back and ride the rollercoaster. Riding the rollercoaster with Amber, I wish we had actually been able to physically hold on to each other. The period of time before Amber came in to my life, I had been standing in my living room, stoned, and trying to conjure a woman (or Isis/Eris), shaping the air with my hands. I realized yesterday that I had been facing north when I did that. Directly towards Amber. Though I'd never asked for a bi-polar jew with manic-depressive disorder. Told her she is Eris: the goddess of chaos. At least I indoctrinated another person in to the 23 synchronicity. Maybe spread some discordianisms, if she was paying attention. She said she wanted me. She said I was perfect. I was a genius. She said things to me no other women say. I was handsome, funny and charming For a short while, I was beautiful through the eyes of Amber. I guess I'll try to just remember that aspect. So sad about us. The saddest part being that I won't be having sex with her. The last thing she wrote me is that she thinks I need to be dating a sixteen year old. What a stupid thing to say. That's illegal!

I almost got expelled from school. I suppose that's something to write about. I'll just copy what I wrote in my journal entry on myspace.com:


i am in trouble
Current mood: disappointed

i have an appointment today at 12:30 with the dean of Moorpark College. seems my art history teacher did not approve of my last couple essays. she says they are inappropriate, that I will receive no credit for them, and, in the future, to "stay on topic." i've been receiving nothing but glowing praise all semester on every paper i've turned in. she's told the class how wonderful my writing is and encouraged me to write more. she ask for a half-one page essay and i turn in 3-5 pagers and she loves em. i've strayed from topic in pretty much all of them and she never complained before. one of the last assignments was to be more fictional, which allowed me even more room to breathe and create. i included her, or at least a bastardization of her name, in that paper and it was brilliant, funny, and I incorporated a lot of what i learned about the topic: Etruscans. stuff that i learned from a website she directed us to. it was overtly sexual cuz that's what was on the website. i guess she thought i was making advances, but that is crazy cuz the paper is so over the top and crude, no female i know would be turned on by it. it was over the top cuz i was trying to be funny. my best friends wife, who is an English major and taught in a Catholic School, thought it was hilarious. the fact that she didn't find it funny and actually used the word "scary" is incredible. another paper i wrote was just about being depressed and what books i was reading/dvd's i was watching and i can understand why that won't count as an assignment--i wrote it mainly just to WRITE cuz writing is like therapy for me. anyway i couldn't recall exactly what i'd written in that assignment and re-read it last night to see what she might be upset about and i just don't understand at all what is bothering her. it's brilliant and funny and irreverant. i was laughing out loud last night reading it. i don't understand people and how they can conjure up in their minds that i'm some scary, threatening monster. people who barely know me and judge me by an essay, song, or poem i've written. she's an art history teacher, shouldn't she be able to separate the art from the artists? my writing is my art. i'm very proud of my abilities. i am very upset i hurt my teacher. she was very nice, we got along great, i was her favorite student. i'm getting an A in the class, just like my other 4 classes. all my teachers like me. my fellow students like me. in Spanish lately, i've become the odd, funny, charming class clown.

this just reminds me of the power i possess with mere words. to be able to make some one think you're the opposite of what you actually are: a kind, intelligent, thoughtful human being who just wants to explore his mind and the environment he finds himself in to hopefully arrive at subsequent higher levels of understanding. right now i don't understand anything. she's completely destroyed any amount of trust i had in sharing my thoughts and opening up. i am a teacher's wet dream. i love learning and go out of my way to please my professors. even though getting A's I still turn in extra-credit just for fun! the message i'm receiving now is to close up and not let anyone see what's going on inside. just fulfill the basic requirements. don't try to connect with yr teacher and be their friend. what a horrible message! i have been thinking about becoming a teacher. if i was i would encourage my students to share their personal lives and i would greatly applaud any student who wrote a essays like the 2 that were just so harshly rejected. i will not let conservative, oppressive, society destroy that part of me.

Everything worked out fine with my interview with the dean and I mostly avoided my teacher for the rest of the semester. Yesterday was the final and I'll most likely never see her again. Boring class. I didn't learn much. It did prompt me to purchase a couple Egyptian statues of Isis and Horus and set up an altar and perform daily prayers. Just a new reality tunnel to try out.

My grandmother is still dying slowly. Too slowly.