There are three ultimate truths about life:

1. You were born.
2. You will die.
3. You are limited.

These truths are guarantees; they are unavoidable, and there's nothing that you can do about it. You are limited in your capabilities: no matter how far we travel across the galaxy, no matter how big we build sky scrapers, the ultimate truth is that we are limited. We are caged. We are not free. Though some may believe that the universe is infinite, we are only limited. The things we know now may only be a small fraction of the truth. If the universe is ever expanding, we may never truly understand everything there is to know about the world. We always try to understand how death occurs, how our deaths can be prolonged, but we still die. We may be able to prevent pregnancies and stop pregnancies, but humans are born -- if they weren't, our human civilization would die.

Not only are you physically caged, but you are mentally caged -- you put yourself in a cage, throw away the key, all because of your illusion of truth. The illusion is, of course, what you find to be "the meaning of life." You might grow up believing that you were set on this Earth for a purpose: perhaps you're motivated to earn money, raise a family, donate to charity, build cars, or whatever it is you find to be "the reason" why you are here. However, there is no meaning: you were born because you were born, you will die because you will die, and you are limited because you are limited compared to the universe. In a way, the reason why you are here is because you will die. You might also believe that living according to your pursuit of your "meaning of life" is considered "success." You may feel that in order to be happy, you must be successful; you may feel that in order to feel alive, you must be happy.

You may feel that living is something that is achieved through success, rather than the fact that you are alive. However, if you are alive...you were born, and you're not dead. Right now, you're simply transitioning from one truth to the other. As a result, your life is confined through a beginning and end -- a inevitable limitation. Will you grow up to be successful in business? Will you be homeless? Will you be able to produce offspring? Will you be able to save someone's life when the opportunity arises? There are no guarantees in life. No matter how hard you work, no matter how much you learn, you will die just like everybody else.

In between your transition into death, you will be micro-transitioning through stages:

1. When you are born, you will prepare to learn.
2. While you learn, you will prepare to work.
3. While you work, you will prepare to die.

Ultimately, everything you do from your birth to your death is you are preparing to die. That is life: you are born to die. Everything in between is irrelevant. Your boss cannot prevent death, your money cannot prevent death, your exercise cannot prevent death because death is one of the ultimate truths; you will die either now or later.

We once believe that the Earth was the center of the universe; even though we may only be a small fraction of the Universe, we are still important to ourselves. The most important person in our lives is ourselves because we were born ourselves, and we will die ourselves. The only person you will ever fully understand is yourself. No one will always understand everything you say or do because you are yourself. You are alone in your world. You may find yourself asking for understanding, but sometimes your tears will drop to the floor and melt just like your illusion of truth. Ultimately, you can only help yourself.

That's the general idea of my philosophy, something I've had real trouble getting over the past year or so. It's going to be a real challenge for me to actually care about my future, but I'm gonna try...for what it's worth. Don't know what I'll be doing, but I'm just gonna wing it. Kathleen gave me some ideas on start, so I'm just gonna look for a direction and shoot for it...even though I know I won't feel confident that I'm going to stay on that path. We shall see though...

I went to work at 3 PM. I was feelin' pretty good about everything because I went to bed a little bit early two nights ago and got 10 hours of sleep. I mowed the front lawn, since my grandmother asked me to, and I got out of class a little bit earlier than usual because it was only a review session. When I get to work, some parts of the shelves are practically empty. Immediately, I question why the shelves aren't full like they're supposed to be and I see our new co-worker walk around the corner. I figured since she's kind of new, she didn't know any better so I didn't jump to any conclusions or accuse anyone of anything. She told me that we didn't have any product to put out, so I checked the back cooler and found out that our cooler was practically empty. We have some fresh seafood, whole strip steaks, tenderloins, tyson chicken, and ham. Everything else we're out of. I knew that we were going to get a truck yesterday night, but it was only 3 in the afternoon -- I still had till 10 PM to worry about that shit. I didn't have any product to put out, so I reminded the managers that I have no product...so when they're walking by and notice empty shelves, they'll know exactly why it is. "I would fill it up if I could, but I have no product to put out," I told the new manager when I started my shift. I'm not all concerned about having empty shelves because I could care less about what product comes in and what product comes out -- that's not my responsibility because I don't do orders. I'm not paid 18 bucks an hour to do all kinds of shit. I'm paid about 7.45 and work part time -- I already do more than I should, so it's not like I'm doing my fair share. I'm definitely working like I have a 9 dollar an hour+ job, but what do you expect when you work at a grocery store? It's like I've allowed myself to be degraded. It's not the fact that we have no product to put out, it's the fact that people come by and want to buy something but are unable to do so. What ends up happening is that the meat department gets bad reviews, and that effects the over-all percentage of satisfaction from the store. The managers look at customer comments and whatnot, and they'll usually go with the customer's side of the story rather than the employee. We're supposed to have meat on the shelves, and there's hardly ever any exception. They'll say that the reason why we don't have product is because someone didn't order -- it could be the case. Like I said, I don't do orders so it's really not my problem in that aspect. But you know what else it does? I have to tell all my customers that I don't know what's going on, and that I'm sorry. I've been saying sorry all damn fucking day over something that was out of my control. My manager is probably going to come in tomorrow, wonder why the fuck the shelves are empty, and look at me weirdly for the rest of the day like there's something wrong with me. He probably already knows, but he's going to say that I could've cut this, I could've grinded that, I could've cubed this, I could've sliced that, I could've steamed that, I could've cleaned that, or anything else. And worst of all, he'll say that I got a bad attitude or something when I lay down the facts. If people accuse me of something, I'm gonna tell them the facts. People can say whatever they want about my anger issues or whatever, but I have a right to get angry and shit and just because I have a retort doesn't mean that I have uncontrollable urges. I'm angry because I wanted to complete a challenge that my store manager gave us, but I couldn't do it. How do you expect me to get a 5 star comment when we don't even have product to put out? The bottom line is that people want the product more than they want the customer service...it's the FUCKING REASON WHY THEY ARE THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE! If we don't have hamburger meat, people can't buy it. I could tell him all the information about it, recommend something else, change a price, give them a raincheck, but you know what is gonna happen? Absolutely nothing. They'll go to Publix practically next door and tell someone about their bad experience at Krogers because our shelves were practically empty. To a customer, I just wasn't doing my job...but I can't explain to a customer the situation, because no one gives a fuck about what I think. I hate my job so fucking much, but I work my ass off doing things that's not even my own job description to do, and I don't get any appreciation. But yesterday was fucking retarded.

I had to deal with customers asking questions about...you know...why the fuck there's a big ass empty section of the meat department missing of product, and I was checking for expired products in the lunch meat. As I expected, I found a lot of expired products from October and November...which goes to show me that no one is doing markdowns or scan outs, so they're just leaving it on the shelf hoping someone will buy it. In my mind, I can't sell an expired product to a mother who is giving lunchables to her kid; I'm surprised we've been able to get away with that stuff for a while, because there's a lot of empty spaces in the lunch meat area. Of course, my manager might ask about that as well, and I'm just gonna try to remain factual as possible. I mean I could have the sweetest voice in responding and people would still assume that I'm having a bad attitude. People don't even know what a bad attitude is...I don't know if it's because they're fucking stupid, or they're just around perfect people. I don't know.

So it's like...fuck it, right? I might as well be the only one to carry the team by looking for expired products since no one else will. Apparently, that's my job and I haven't been doing it when really it's everyone's responsibility. Fuck me, though. No one cares about what I think. Everything I say is pretty much dismissed because I apparently have an anger issue. I have no right to be angry at anything and express myself because I'm being totally irrational!

No big deal. I just let it go. Besides, it killed an hour and I'd need to do all that I could so I could remain sane for the rest of the day. After that, I took all the black totes to the receiving area, and put another pallet in the area so I could put the remaining 50 totes scattered all over the fucking cooler on the pallet. No big deal because working in the cooler makes you warm. Sweat feels pretty good when you're in a cooler, fyi. No big deal.

I take out the trash when the trash is heavy as shit when it gets dark. When I throw it into the dumpster, the trashbag breaks open and all the stuff inside spills out NEXT to the dumpster. We're not talking big things, we're talking like...fat trimmings of beef, fat trimmings of chicken, expired products, gloves, paper towels, etc. I'm picking that shit up with my bare hands even though I know for a fact that none of my co-workers would take responsibility and just walk away. It's always "let someone else take care of it" at my store. I'm fairly certain the receiving manager will comment to me about that or some shit, and which I'll remind them that it looked a lot worse when the entire trash bag spilled -- they're actually fortunate that I picked up the mess. But no one cares about what I think.

After that, I just pretty much relaxed to calm down. I was pissed off about a lot of things, about the fact that I want to help my girlfriend anyway that I can but all of her problems are something out of my fucking control. I've been trying to brainstorm how I can help my girlfriend, but there's literally nothing I can do. Last night when I asked Kathleen about it, she started to cry and didn't want me to remind her about the situation...so I pretty much ruined her night by making sure everything is going according to the plan. Fuck me for being persistent in ONE THING, by trying to help my girlfriend be persistent in getting the shit she deserves. Everything else she's going through is stuff beyond my control. The only thing I can do is spend time with her which is great and all, but she's still gonna be upset that shit is going on in her life. I listen to her cry, I talk to her, do all the kinds of shit a real boyfriend should do but in the end...she's still suffering. So I got shit like that on my mind while being pissed off, which I piss myself off because I'm unable to provide for her the things she needs to feel better...which is fuckin' cool. So I'm super pissed, and 8:30 rolls around and the night manager says that I need to unload truck. I've never done it by myself, but I didn't think it would be so bad. Turns out the packing company who packed all the shit up did a horrible job because eggs were spilled EVERYWHERE. We had to put product on two different pallets, so it ended up being a total of 8 pallets I had to move BY MYSELF. I could've easily let the manager do it consider it's the manager's responsibility to unload the truck, but I'm a nice guy and a hard worker...and no one cares what I think. So fuck it. I do that shit, and it takes me until I close AND then 30 minutes extra that I probably won't be paid for over-time because, quite frankly, Krogers doesn't give a shit about me and no one cares about what I think. Oh, and I spilled some product here and there, but hey...it was disorganized in the beginning. I don't give a shit. Some people are going to go to work tomorrow unsatisfied with "whoever" did the truck last night, and I'm just gonna keep my mouth shut. I'll say I did, and leave it at that. It was the best thing that I could do, and that's it. Fuck it.

I'm just tired of everything. I wanted to go over to Kathleen's place tomorrow, but she said no because she's gotta study. This is her final exam week, so I completely agreed with that. Instead, I'm gonna spend all day Thursday on a bench at the nearest lake. I haven't decided what I'm going to do, but I may just sit there and watch my life pass me by, because the only person who cares about what I think is myself...and I'll think all....fuckin...day. It's gonna be great!

I'd like to say that I'm generally happy -- sometimes I forget that I have shit to do, and that's part of my problem. I easily forget the seriousness of my life. The longer I sit and down nothing, the older I get before I'm able to retire. I wish there was some kind of medical condition that is able to explain why I do what I do, but the only logical explanation that people could come up with is possibly "because I'm retarded." Not in the literal sense, of course, but in the sense that I am fucking up my life and yet I'm doing nothing about it. For a while now, I've gotten so scared that I'm afraid of myself. I know that I gotta get my shit together, but I'm holding myself back. It's the worse fucking feeling in the world. I look into my girlfriend's eyes and I feel my problems just melt away. I am the prime example of living in the present because every so often I'll worry about my future, but I'll just go right back into my present state of mind where I'm here. I wish I could explain it, I wish I could find something to help me...but it's pretty rough.

I know for a fact that I love to talk to people, and I love to help people. I'm pretty good with naming cars, and I thought that maybe I could become a car insurance agent -- turns out that they work on commission. I'm not a competing type of guy because I feel pressured. I talked to a school counselor about becoming a guidance counselor or something, but she just kinda laughed -- it was either that or a Psychiatrist. I thought about becoming a car journalist for magazines, but you gotta start out freelance to build a reputation. Again...competition. I don't want a job that requires physical labor, I want a desk job. I want to deal with people, I want to help people, and that's pretty much as far as I've gotten.

I also know that I want to write a book -- I have a pretty good idea of what I'm going to write about, even skipped a few Spanish classes to brainstorm ideas, but I can't generate anything onto paper. The first book I was going to write about is actually becoming a movie, so it seems that the only good ideas that I have are going to be taken from Hollywood...SOON.

Despite all of this, I'm generally happy. I look forward every weekend to seeing my girlfriend because, I'm not going to lie, she's an important part of my life. I believe she's my soul-mate -- why the hell should I treat her as anything less? Why should I pretend to not be devastated if something were to happen to her? Some people believe in soul-mates, but don't think they should put their significant others on a pedestal? Call me crazy, but I just don't get that. If you truly love someone, you don't want anything to happen to them. I'm 22 fucking years old -- how the hell would you expect me to live 80 more years under the assumption that I'm going to find someone better than my soul-mate? She's got a permanent place in my heart -- I would never be the same without her. Hell yeah I'd probably think about ending my life. Because you see...before I met Kathleen, I've spent over 20 years getting ready for a career. But you know what's made me feel alive? Nothing. Sure...I've learned a lot about the world over the years, I've learned how things work, I've made some money here and there...but a video game doesn't make me feel the way I feel with my woman. I am more than just a credit score number, or a business partner. I'm a human being with emotions and a passion for something. It just so happens that my passion isn't building a business from the bottom-up, or making six-figure digits as a well respected attorney. My passion is love, and that's more passion than what I've had.

Things are changing, though. Eventually I'm going to reach a transition by realizing the importance of my early adulthood. I may end up regretting more than I do now, but only time will tell.

My girlfriend has been going through some major shit as well. It's a long story, and for legal purposes I'm not going to get into it too much. Basically, we found out that she purchased a vehicle that wasn't supposed to be sold. It's between family members, and she's caught in the middle of it. She's cried a lot about it, and I wish I could settle everything myself...but I'm letting the seller take care of everything since he's a friend of my girlfriend, and suggests that he doesn't like bad business. We'll see about that, I suppose. My girlfriend, of course, has a "bad feeling." I can't say that I don't blame her because I've had that bad feeling before she even purchased the vehicle, and she knows it too. We got past it, shit went down, and now she's gotta deal with either

a) getting the money back or
b) getting a different car

So far I haven't heard anything else, but I'll keep Xanga updated when big news comes up. She loved that. I even got her a some car seat covers for Christmas (though she already knows this).

Thanksgiving was pretty great. Work sucks, as always, but I'm looking forward to going to Brazil next year. I don't know when it'll be and I'm getting nervous that it won't happen, but I really want to go.

That's all I can think of right now.