In the someday, what’s that sound?

Standing on the cusp of a week off, 5 whole days. I can’t be sitting around watching TV, eating junk food; it’s a living death.

I better write. Lots.

I should also be putting a resume together, cleaning the car, oil change. If I were a betting man, I’d say that shit will never get done. In the next 5 days, anyway.

The Student-Loan-Mafia takes 1/4th of what I make each month.

I’m a literal slave.

I’m not black, but I’m more nigger than racist, a financially-fucked fool with high smartosity, trapped in the apathetic body of a wage slave.

I’ve thought about burning my old school–which offered a fake education–to the fucking ground.  These days I wouldn’t wait until it’s empty, either.  But the fake school is back in California and I’m in Florida.

“I hate myself and I want to die.” — Cobain

Everyone seems to get trapped by something: ex-spouse, car wreck, pigeon drop, telemarketer, speeding ticket, non-fatal disease.

Everyone seems to get trapped by something.

This weather cool and mild we’re having would totally rock in hellish July, but in December it’s a hothouse travesty. This is the type of weather during which meteorologists can be justifiably killed.

Tomorrow there’s salmon for lunch.

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One Response to “In the someday, what’s that sound?”

  1. G8rbaby Says:

    I’m financially-fucked with mediocre hopes for my future in business.
    But hey! at least there’s salmon for lunch tomorrow!
    .. kinda like saying there’s a bright future ahead of me.
    When do i get to see the lights?? .. ya, still waiting.

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