Never enough, but I make sure of that. I lose it. I gamble. I'm a fucking retard.
I win enough to pay the bills but I never get ahead. Its just debt on paper and even when it's all pluses, things don't change. I'm starting to think that it's not about the money. It might just be me.
One of the dogs ran off last night. I opened the door to have a cigarette and off he went into the rainy night. They don't usually ever want to go outside while its raining, but I havent been walking them as much and it makes sense that he would want to run around a bit. It makes sense.
The other dog took off after him and I spent 30 minutes tracking them down in the rain.
A nice couple happened to be out at 3:00 in the morning and saw Rocky. They were very kind and helped me get them home. Cody and Angel were their names. Thanks to them, Rocky and Caleb, the dogs got back home safe and sound.
I know they want to run around, but I don't take them to the park.
I am waiting to become famous. I am waiting to be successful at a carreer. I am waiting until I no longer feel like killing anyone. I am waiting until the veil that covers my sickness and my loathing gets thick enough that people cannot see it from down the street. I am waiting to talk to someone and not feel like I should lie. I don't lie and I don't have any friends.
It is the reason I am not a victim. Why I'm sick in the middle of the night. Why I don't get up at dawn and don't write down what I'm thinking. I don't imagine anything. Seeing the world for what it is...its a simple curse. Every one is just a corpse. Just a corpse. Waiting to happen. Why should anyone care? Why should I want to comply? Why the fuck should I?
I do not have much to say on the matter.
I feel as though it is losing meaning.
I do not feel connected.
I feel angry and left out.
I desire...
Things are not going so well.
I am angry a lot and Whitney knows it. I'm not sure she knows why exactly. It's not the gambling. The gambling is just a symptom. Besides, it pays the bills. Most of the time.
Reading the paper-
SHopping shopping shopiinnggg SHopppppppiiiinnng.
The whores of the world are selling...a transatlantic sting operation.
Sometimes silence just means no. Sometimes when it doesn't make sense...it means you're fucking crazy. Sometimes the words are saying exactly what they mean. 20% off Sale Saturday. DON'T MISS IT. Sometimes there isn't a conspiracy, and people just do shit in order for other things to happen.
Conspiracy has to be the norm. You don't plan by consensus. SHOPPING!
Have you ever seen the chaos that religion claims to avoid? If god and television are the opiates of the masses, then I can say that it is only a matter of time. How long can this civilization last?
If that is the best they could come up with, it won't be much longer.
And another thing-
I am too paranoid to do anything about anything. It is called a holding pattern and I invented it.
I get writer's block. My subject matter isn't strong enough I suppose, to carry the attention of a grown man for more than a few minutes. There is not going to be a revolution.
THere is not going to be open revolt. THE HUMAN RACE WILL DIE SLOWLY. Bled by a multitude of parasites for millenia. the last of us will probably not bother to bury each other, wanting to get away...we will just leave the corpses rotting in the sun.
