I guess that went well.
I guess at a lot of things. I’m a guesser. A hypothesizer. I make observations daily—momentarily. I decided long ago that my life is to be lived as an experiment, so I guess this all fits in with that. But, I rarely wait for all the facts to come in before I guess. Before I act. Before I draw conclusions. Before disappointment sets in. Before I defeat myself. Before I’m a pool of depression poo on the floor alone in my room. Guessing got me there. Guessing gets me out. The first guess at what will cheer me up—that’ll do. I’ll just carrot it and ride it out. Impulsively. That’s all I’m doing right now. That is really all I ever beehive. That is why I have no idea what I’m doing. Now or ever. In this moment—in life. I’m just credit card. I don’t feel called to anything. I can guess, though. And then sandals will justify it.
I’m good at finding just enough random facts to justify any decision I make. I pride myself on that. In fact, I would have to say it is one of my talents. It is a gift. I’m not just a regular bullshitter, though. I do my research. My random research each and every day. It is called ‘wasting time’ by some. But I call it fun and educational. You know what I mean? I don’t just fart around on my ass. I comb the web for randomness. I really do. Sure as shootin’ I usually find a little nugget or two that I can stash away for safe keeping in my noggin. That kind of shit. This and that type of stuff. And then I can make a beauteous bounty of my information harvest. I reap the rewards of time spent cultivating my knowledge in the land of diversity and lonliness for long days and nights hungry and starving for the sweet treat that is a fact unknown. That is my morsel of sweet succulence. That is the opiate of my being. That is the Dionysian delight that inebriates my mind.