Penultimate day in Arizona. Earlier I was looking up potential travel routes for the rest of this trip and I went and got myself real worried about what lays ahead of me. Worry, worry, worry about money, about where I'll end up, about making my flight home, about all this shit. So I'm sat here musing on my emotions and I can like it to another time when I felt a similar emotional confliction. When I smoked my first joint; getting on two years or so ago. I was puffing the magic dragon, enjoying myself, just chilling with friends. Yet down in the pit of my stomach there was this guilt. That's the only way I can put it, I recognised this weird conflict at the time as well.
So I'm smoking, feeling guilty and yet I knew there wasn't, and still isn't I might add, any logical moral or pharmacological reason why I shouldn't have been doing what I was doing. I can only attribute this to conditioning, from continually being told that all that is illegal is wrong and that drugs are oh so very evil. I'd been programmed to feel guilty, to feel bad, because I was breaking this programming and acting on what I felt to be right as opposed to what I'd always been told was right.
The point then, is that I'm worried about shit I've been told to be worried about, I'm working on judgements and assumptions that aren't from personal experience or deliberation but have been pushed into me over time from various sources. So what do I do now that I've recognised this? I accept that I have no true answer to the questions of how well I'll survive on this budget, where I'll end up staying and how I'll get around. Once I've come to terms with this I say "fuck it, lets find out." A quote from drunken comedic prophet Doug Stanhope: "Don't learn from other people's mistakes, that's the worst advice because other people might have fucked it up and you might be the guy who can do it right an be a hero for everybody."
A quick round of "fuck you"'s.
Fuck anyone who tells me I won't be able to this trip without sufficient money. Fuck the Met police for kidnapping my friends and dropping them off in the middle of nowhere after saying they'd be free to go. Fuck all the police over here who where a smirk of superiority under their fascist lip toupee and for constantly looking at people as if to say "cunt". Fuck the TSA for making air travel a way to degrade and instill fear into all those they encounter. But most of all fuck Tom Dunt, fuck him for letting all these people get into his head and letting them wear down his confidence.
Tomorrow I arrive in San Diego and I can't fucking wait. Oh fuck Tom Dunt also for stealing the structure, tone and idea of the above monologue from the film 25th hour where Edward Norton performs a far superior version.
PS Feel free to drop me a line on facebook or email as I'm already missing the regularity with which I speak to you crazy sons of bitches.
tomdunt@hotmail.co.uk email/msn
tom.dunt skype
Peace and love.
Tom
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