Sweet dreams are made of this

I want to inspire. Anymore, I believe that is what I'm good at. Though I have many passions and a wealth of knowledge in fields that are really not pertinent or applicable to anything profitable ( an encyclopedic knowledge of fighters and key fights they've been hardly reaps any kind benefit on my part, monetarily speaking). The inspiration thing wafted into scope about an hour ago when I spoke to a friend, encouraging her to go to college. I helped pay for her to get her G.E.D and she has a penchant for website design (read: she's damn good at it) and she's living, essentially in destitution right now and has been since the age of 17 when she emancipated and began living on her own. I help her whenever possible and believe that college would be the best course of action for her. The ease of spurning others to better themselves comes to such a degree that I wonder if being a caustic, sarcastic, combative and somewhat abrasive motivational speaker is a viable option. Dennis Leary has a job I guess that should incline me to concede, but the reality is I'm not entirely sure what I want to pursue in life. With many loves comes a certain amount of mediocrity in each, neither excelling nor retarding in any one of them. Makes me wonder if I'm capable of any. Business isn't bad, in so much as it's an avenue to pursue other endeavors. I could utilize it, to some degree to seek a number of opportunities, but far too often each opportunity leads to certain questions. How will it be different, what will make me successful or the business as a whole in comparison to those who specialize in the field? It's easy to get caught in the tides of thought towards the future. Focus too much and you drown. Sometimes it is difficult to put faith in tomorrow when today fails you. They seem to hold a kinship as if one slowly grows, becoming the other. I'll depart to bog and all his lovely angels on that note.

Testify.