i feel awake today. no hangover. no pain. not a foggy brain. alert. sharp. hairy chest and slim body. today is friday. TGIF. TGIF. TGIF. another made up saying to keep us peasants chained to the bank accounts of old rich white greedy motherfuckers (CEO’S and BANKERS).
i want to move to mexico or tahiti or north west territories.
i before e except after c.
need adventure again.
need a pulse again.
need to create again.
need to explore again.
need to fuck again.
need to let loose again.
need to connect again.
need to have fun again.
needs and weeds and lots of leaves but one thing is for certain…I HAVE NO MONEY AND NO LIFE.
i have a job but it brings in little money and affords me no time for anything else.
“DOCTOR CAN YOU TELL ME MY PROBLEMS?’
“yes sir. you, my friend, need to SHUT UP and BUCKLE DOWN and WORK HARDER and STOP COMPLAINING. YOU ARE A PEASANT AND YOU SHOULD BE HONOURED TO WORK FOR THE MAN.”
“okay i will shut up and put my head down and put my brain away and work from dusk till dawn everyday except saturday and god’s day but on those days i will cut grass, do groceries, wash the car, get caught up on bills, clean the house, do laundry. OH SHIT IT IS SUNDAY NIGHT. DID I GET STUFF TO MAKE MY LUNCHES FOR THE WEEK?”
panic sets in. THE SUNDAY PANIC. it is a thing. a real thing in a real life.
THE DREADED SUNDAY EVENING ANGST.
five more days of drudgery for little pay and no life. can’t wait for the next weekend to arrive.
“HEY DOC. WHY AM I WISHING AND WHISKING MY LIFE AWAY?”
“well sir. you are a problem. you have adhd, anxiety disorder, bipolar disorder, narcissistic personality disorder, and PTSD. i will give you a prescription for many pills and i am positive that this will help you.”
“thanks doc…i really appreciate your love and care.”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LEAVE!!! MY NEXT VICTIM IS WAITING FOR YOU TO SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!”
“okay…sorry doc…i am so sorry. i know how important you are. is love good?”
“SHUT UP!!!!!”
“okay bye.”
notanotherphony. 