Creative Juices and Voodoo Dolls

I truly LOVE my Writing class which I used to be perfectly ambivalent about. 
Why?
At first, I didn't know. It was just a vibe I got. A mere feeling. 
Now it hit me like a brick wall. . . it's because my creative juices flow like a tempestuous stream in that class. Every time I enter that classroom, it is as if a billion lightbulbs flicker luminously in my noggin. It's fabulous!!!! Just what I need!
I feel like I can write countless dissertations, novels, plays, screenplays, poems you name it!
I had about a thousand notions today for blog posts however I misplaced my notebook at the moment (I'm just your average disheveled, scatterbrained writer what can I say!) But I believe one of them was about helping people in order to get our of yourself...no I am NOT a poser and I am not trying too hard to sound like an upright, squeaky clean, benevolent creature. I am far from it, however I actually do have a point here. I had another realization at the gym today that I need to do more fulfilling things with my life...that involve other people. I fucking LOVE people!
And making people happy is something I think I am somewhat skilled at, I have the know-how I believe.
How does one go about changing someone's life? For the better of course. You don't have to be a superhuman with extraordinary powers to be remarkable dammit! Ugh I am starting to sound so preachy...NOT OKAY.
Okay, moving on. 
Various occurrences have also sparked the idea that if I commit a lot of swell deeds for exceedingly grateful people, someday it will come back and the gratitude will be returned to me in some fantastic way, shape or form, and consequently make ME the one indebted to someone. Not to be selfish, and I'm not saying that's the only reason I will commit great acts in order to reach out to others. I'm merely trying to cancel out the effect my demolished voodoo doll must have had on my life since...late August. When it broke.
It's not as if I stuck pins and needles in it though.
I never took a handful of them from my Mom's sewing kit with an ulterior motive, and thrust them into my gaudy looking doll all like "AND THIS ONE IS FOR JANICE WHO FUCKED ME OVER SENIOR YEAR EVERY TIME I SAW HER!" and "THIS ONE IS FOR HERMAN, THAT TALENTLESS HACK OF A MOTHERFUCKER WHO WAS SO UNDESERVING IN HIS REAPED BENEFITS THAT RIGHTLY BELONGED TO ME!"
Yes, I have many a chip on my shoulder.
Some days it is faded and other days it is flared up like an infection.
Well, aside from the voodoo doll, I'm not doing so well for myself anyway. I mean, I played with tarot cards this past weekend with my friend. And a Ouija Board. And I'm rather gullible when it comes to that shit as well. I believe there are indeed spirits out there though...ghosts and whatnot. Call me crazy but...yes I am crazy I know!
Now on a different, more solemn note...
My oration.
Coming soon.