The Cathartic Conditionings of a Cracked 'Core'.

That is, to say, that being insane isn't always all bad.

So, it's been a very busy couple of weeks lately. To say that I started the job search in earnest would be the same as saying body-builders enjoy working out. Nacogdoches is well, and truly, devoid of decent jobs. Maybe if I was a good god fearing man, or shoved the principals that make me into the wonder that is human down a dirty ditch, then I might have a good pizza shop or burger joint gig. As it is, however, the trappings of serving those who look down on me for serving them are less appealing that laying in a dirty ditch with my own moral fibers.

There are, as always to us people watchers (more to the point those who watch themselves) things of note. One would be that...I'm not a gamer anymore. I have reserved a total of 4 games, and bought 1. I've played none. Given I don't OWN a console to play any video games with, it's still surprising to me and my friends that I hadn't really had the motivation to practice for the tournament weekend before last or try to get the endings for all 60 characters in Tekken Tag 2.

Mostly, we sit outside, drink, and discuss the world of politics, productions, and technology. How this differs from anyone else with the answers who forgets them while intoxicated has yet to be seen, but, we don't do it for answers. The musing entertains us.



Financially speaking, things are...rather bleak. I have not applied for unemployment benefits, and at no time soon do I plan to. Paying to the system does not hinder me as I know it will go towards more people who need it rather than abuse it, especially in these hard times. Yet my pride is...holding faster to my heart than anticipated. Giving in is not an option, pleading to those who say I am a fool is not an option. The only thing I have left to do is...well...trudge on.

To give that slow, weary walk forwards as a solider who knows not what else to do than continue marching. Head held high, chest forward, legs strong and steady, arms always tucked under, but with the knowledge that life around me is dwindling towards a certain instability that will buck me from existence and my own place in the world.




What does all that mean? It means; I am very, very pissed that I can't afford the tattoo. That's what it means.

Periodical Punctuations of Positivity.

Well, as much as I am...rather loath to admit it. Not dressing up in Khakis and red polo shirts these last two weeks have been goddamn liberating. I do miss having a job. The constant struggle to help, being productively busy instead of busy to bypass boredom, the constant prospect of an income knowing I would be safe. All of that is gone leaving me bored, restless, highly irritable, and broke. Yet I couldn't be more pleased! Well....no, no, no need to quibble with myself about something like loneliness. All people still suffering it understand my meaning. Without the net of safety and responsibility Things simply seem...more enjoyable.


For the last several days we've played video games (while sud soaked) and gone to the bar for karaoke. Yesterday we rambled on to see The Possession. A fairly decent movie with a really really good ending. Today I will be finished paying for Tekken Tag Tournament 2, and tomorrow the job search will continue in modesty. Have I been stupid in taking back smoking and buying books from Amazon? Yes. Have I been lazy in only searching for work in the middle of the week days instead of striving to find stability? Definitely. Do I or anyone else feel bad for it? Nope. I can possibly continue this for another two weeks before things get dire, yet doing as wanted instead of as needed is exactly the kind of mental release I've been needing.


I feel rested, and at times even hopeful. Of course there's been a few things that have...triggered me. But, they're've been less, and less, and less it seems, since leaving that hole. Two weeks, and I'm a better person who's starting to tan. Go fucking figure. Now, onwards to the bank, and my new tattoo.

A Cry For Innocence.

It's 5 am. It's too hot outside, and too cold inside. The last sliver of hope that maybe, perhaps someday, there'll be happiness in life was snuffed out. It didn't fade away, there was no gentle wind to pull the heat from the flame. Sudden, cold metal crashed onto the idea leaving only dirty soot and smoke. No one will remember the lapse of judgment.

Nothing of note really happened tonight. Me and a couple friends stayed up, stayed outside talking, realising that no matter how much we might love someone, try to do right, and be honorable; we're going to be fucked over my people who are too stupid to know what's going on around them and be hypocrites to themselves.

I did talk to Irish a bit, but the opposite of a fun catch up happened. So much for a last hope. Off to bed, to trudge on again tomorrow.