Letter 19

April 17, 2011


Dear Mom,


Hey, another idea occurred to me when I awoke this morning. If I found work doing something I enjoyed doing, it wouldn't be work by the popular definition would it? More of a hobby, or even an occupation during off days. I call this the Artistic Syndrome. I'd be interested in finding out what you think about it.


Writing, for the moment at least, seems to have lost whatever smallish reward I took from it. It is a real pain in my a** to be sharp while those around me are so dull. I'm beginning to understand the way Einstein felt most of his life, not that I compare to him intellectually. He didn't have any, or many, intellectual peers and was likely considered freakish by the world he lived in.


To flesh out my thought, if I was a best-selling author making a ton of money, it would seem like a good thing, right? But if the daily grind that it takes to produce a published page is taken into account, it looks somewhat less like an attractive life and more like drudgery.


As these words appear on the page balanced awkwardly on my knee, it occurs to me that people are often funny in an interesting way. I often wonder what observations an extraterrestrial would make about a given situation. What sort of ways might be evinced as relational for them to mark as evidence of the differing roles played in the different parts of our pompously superior world? Then, I realize my position/status and am drawn quickly away from such thinking, like a rubber band snapping. That type of thinking, while possibly a valid exercise to keep my mind supple, has a definite risk of taking me to a place I couldn't return from. I prefer the familiar same ol' same ol' world, even though for now it is rather confining.


It is now Tuesday the 19th of April and a larger obstacle to my peace of mind, as it turns out...wasn't real! I had a couple sections of the Chapter 33 (that was put out at the Federal level so even Uncle Rick has to abide by it) and they were overdue. I couldn't connect with the law library guys until today and then they came in and told me that they have no record of any parts of Chapter 33 being signed out to me. I gave the documents up anyway, as I'd much rather err on the side of caution.


Did I actually just write those words? I must be getting mellow to the point of being spineless. This provokes some thought I  will explore at a later time when I am feeling more mature.


I didn't go to the cage "outside" early this morning because the medications I take make me slow on the uptake and they are still in my system at 5:00 a.m. All I can do is spiritually go outside. Also, I needed to clear an issue with the law library. I see no good reason to be herded into a cage with people (hopefully) I don't even know, for three hours. Maybe it's just me, but I've got better things to do with my time. If it rains, nobody comes out to bring you back in because they don't want to get wet. It's a fiasco.


What concerns me more is that I've got two receipts printed up on April 13th. One says I've got $5.91 and the other has a possible balance of $65.13. Which do I believe? I'm disturbed by this as it is a relatively large discrepancy. I haven't seen that sort of bookkeeping since I smoked crack! I hope it resolves itself soon, but the fact remains there is no one I'm able to contact who will do it for me.


All good things come to an end, and I've had this laying around too long now so I guess I will send it on its way. Got some writing to do.


Much love and best regards,
James