knees sore.
feet sore.
my hopes sore as i stumble through life looking for my passion. looking for my fire. brief moments of fire are quickly replaced by dog walks and cutting grass.
6am wake up calls for a job that pays little and puts me further into debt. servicing multi million dollar homes that aren’t even being lived in. where do these people get their money?
i walked into an old dark home in the deep woods to turn on the customer’s sprinkler system timer. it was dark. house currently not occupied. million dollar home with a million dollar view. i walked downstairs, gingerly and fearfully, as i waited for a rat or mouse to jump onto my leg and start biting and clawing. i waited for a dead body to appear. the timer was in the basement cellar.
cold.
damp.
had a smell of oldness to it. i turned on the timer and waited for my partner, who was outside, to say “next” as he was checking the sprinkler system. as i sat and waited i thought of dying. i thought of death. i thought of murder. i wondered how many people had died in this old house. had anyone been murdered in this old house?
how many orgies?
how many abuses?
how many fun parties?
how many great moments had been had?
how much trauma?
how many tears?
good times and bad and then old age comes along and death soon appears.
THE TREE OF LIFE.
i looked into a separate cellar and saw old bottles of wine and old bottles of beer. really old. really creepy.
would the wine still be good?
i thought about trying one but these days cameras are everywhere. i, then, saw an old wooden statue of a black maid or gardener with big lips and beautiful breasts. i instantly became horny. i wanted to jerk off to her wooden tits. so nice. so firm. i thought hard and fought hard to stop the urge. my willpower won today. i didn’t jerk off. camera’s may have stopped me.
i made it home alive. ate dinner. drank some wine. jerked off. then went to bed.
the daily grind will continue tomorrow.
notanotherphony. 