Once again my life's path has suffered another regressive blow. I'm not sure how temporary this is but a few days ago I believed I had some conception of where I would go in life. Recently I've aquired the belief that society instills values within humans that counter the natural biological processes that place us within the animal kingdom. We as human's must never forget that in the end, at our most basic level we are simply another creature on this planet. It can be noted that our intellect is the dividing barrier between our complexity and the simplicity of other creatures but none the less we are still animals. I am both ashamed and embarrased to admit my hunger for violence, my thirst for fear. Millions of years of evolution have engendered multiple traits in all animals, including humans. At our most basic levels humans are a dominant group who achieve dominion through violence, and thus I don't believe that our shopping malls, and amusement parks should try to viel the urges that generation and generation of cellular advancement have brought upon us. Society has taught us to conceal these emotions, to hide them away like pornography or an embarrasing personal effect, but none the less, no matter how deep these instincts are buried there dominance over our behaviors is supreme. Civilation has deprived us in practicing these traits and as a result we hunger for them even more. To kill is a sin and peace is the ideal yet to uphold these ideas is going against our very nature. A passive society leaves the testosteron fueled males within our society always looking for another avenue into which they can direct their hate. We watch football, and boxing, we get into barfights, and domestic disputes, we do anything we can to fuel that urge. At some point within all of this realization I realized that more then anything else I am an animal, a warrior, an individual who's desires to dominate and control through physical force are the predominat compulsion that dictate his actions. I can feel it within me like a fire which illuminates some remote cavern that had remained cold and dark for quite some time. The more I thought about it the more my desire became justified. And I longed for it to be fufilled. Within our society there is only one avenue that allows a human to effectively utilize the natural instincts that define his place within the animal kingdom. This place is know as "the military". This word means so many different things to so many people. It means pride and shame, bravery and fear, power and weakness, but when I brought the idea of me doing something which has always felt right to me up to my parents, the military only meant one thing; death. I don't doubt the fact that to join the military is to join the game of probabilities where I could become one of the many or the few who lose their life. I fear death to some extent. I fear both it's mystery and its finality. None the less, I have accepted death and understand that I would rather die feeling alive then stay alive always to be dead inside. How many people within this subjucated and hopeless society can say that they died doing what they loved? I realize that because the dead don't speak this is an impossibility but regardless the message still holds validity. I do not know whether or not the military will fufill my desires or whether even these desires are only temporary. What I do know is that I am willing to find out. My parents have sacrificed my ambition, my personal hapiness, because to them, death, regardless of its circumstances, is undesirable. To my parents, life's objective is to push death farther and farther away until you have no more energy and death's embrace finally reaches you. It would be "too much" for them to see me enter into the armed forces. Regardless of how I feel about dying, both my mother and father, do not want to see the son they have put so much love into travel to the realm of nonexistance. I understand that to bury a loved one is difficult. The knowledge that the person that you have known so well, that was such an intricate part of your life, is no longer there, for the duration of the universe and time itself, is almost incomprehendable. To bring sorrow unto my family causes me a deal of suffering. And now yet again, I am hopeless, my life's path has been confrontated with another road block. Fuck...

One more day. Sometimes it helps not to look at everything so very deeply and to just realize that I hate school because...I do. But of course that can never be enough. So then, why do I hate school? School and I don't really get off on a good start each morning and the reason for that is that it is, in fact, the morning, in which I dredfully accept school's essential "oppurtunities" in walk through the cold steel doors of my seven hour daily incarceration. The morning, in itself, really has nothing disagreeable about. I harbor no animosity toward the morning as a time of day. The hues of purple, orange and red as beams of sun peer above the horizon, the call of birds, the fresh air, and the scent of dew, are all cleary worth of appreciation. No, it is not the hate of the morning that I feel, but rather the way I feel in the Morning that I hate. The morning is the beginning of the day, and I have to wake up in the beginning of the morning, at a time when morning classification barely becomes eligible. Upon opening my eyes at this abrupt hour my vocabularly is limited to one word (besides the standard expletives one mutters at a period of great dissaproval such as "Fuck, man", "shit", "dammit" or a very happy mixture of the three) and that word which has doubtlessly been uttered within the caverns of almost every "inmates" brain is...Why?...
I return from a 2 hour break and this thought is no longer as profound as it was when I began. The thoughts in my mind expire quite rapidly, maybe some sort of solution is needed (a refrigeration system possibley)...I'm so fucking funny.