net change
Woo hoo. Fire up your whoa-is-me mentality and drag your feet through the trenches of the day. When life gives you lemons, make napalm. When life gives you cliches, make novels.
And bask underneath the so-called brilliance of some so-called creative genius who pampers you with bedtime stories of things that will be but never actually delivers on them. When other people have to constantly remind you of their goodness, perhaps it’s just them propping the cardboard cutout up so you can’t see the miserly cheapskate behind the curtain. And while we’re at it, let’s reserve ourselves for the (once again so-called) “high class” forms to further our delusion of what we really are. If I had listened to certain straight-shooters before, maybe I’d have avoided being dragged into this mess.
So I had this dream that I was walking through my high school of all places. And it was with someone I really haven’t talked to in some 6 or 7 years. It was pretty wild. Simple walking and talking, but oh how I wish I could’ve remembered the words. It would’ve been the perfect movie script. Of course the dream ended before anything really interesting. Fucking alarm. Once again, I screw myself over. Now I have to write the ending myself instead of asking the subconscious to do it.
Life is taxing. It’s really a quest to find the nice little parts within all the bullshit that keeps the status quo going. At times I feel bad for those fuckers with tons of money. Because they’re constantly struggling to stay on top, to stay alive, to be number one. A great man once said something along the lines of “I’m not afraid to die, I don’t have any money to part with anyways.” I agree.
Gimme something simple. Play it back.
