They follow me they become my friends in bars the tell me things: the drunks, and druggies I don't learn anything from the sober people they are afraid to reveal themselves to the world I find them boring the drunks let their soul speak no filter: you see and hear a REAL person and not facade or shell of a human being
Haven't been a fight in years go to work mostly every day I say thank you and please and a lot of time I feel too civilized as I type this out using Starbucks wifi on my chrome book in the First World I look out a window and see two kids who look homeless and my feet are sore from work, I listen to John Green talk about wars through out history and the Industrial Revolution and think do I have it too good? a crazy thought, right? nobody has it too good? we all suffer right? I need to do some hard work with my hands and get calluses and bruises lift more weights, some of the kids around me are looking waaay to strong (they can take me). Maybe, I should find someone that will make me suffer Tonight
I feel as if I am falling apart and perhaps i'm always falling apart: late, for things, money rumpled up in my pockets rushing to get somewhere never organized, never organized my old friend chaos rains down on me getting everything wrong, everything wrong hard to pay attention to what is deemed consequential anxiety my dear lover, and fear is her best friend always leading down a hot road, which ends too soon I gotta get some things right I'm at war with the tribe, I do not wanna be at war with the tribe I always found rebels to be pretentious, though it seems like I am one nonetheless trapped of course
It's terrible and people pretend to like the summer, I hate that shit driving in a high mileage car, can't run the air conditioning constantly and people are waaay meaner living in St. Louis with it's high murder rate you don't do much out, and are drenched in sweat and people say they like this weather well how come so many people run their air conditioner on this bright sunny day? if they loooove this weather?
reality sucks as you know and I write about it how much it sucks but i love fantasy but i can't write about fantasy or even read it it won't help me understand this strange and confusing world but i love the fantasy the dream of getting what you want reality is: toiling the way at some monotonous job I think of of auto mechanic mowing his lawn after work then going inside and watching some great television! how terrible and awful is that? and that is reality my friend not remotely living
It's been all about trade all about religion mostly trade people had to earn a living didn't they? so they went to faraway places and gathered the natural resources: spices, gold, silver, etc and people worked hard for these things that they did not rich off of themselves and people became rich, though not as rich as a lot of working folk who are alive right now but, then our rich are incredibly rich I can not imagine well people gathered riches through industry, and slavery, and war and I can not help but to think of a simple drug deal, or exchange between car salesperson and a buyer the world working at it's best or worst you decide
