Friday, May 14, 2004

chugging the nyquil

chain-smoking. waiting. thinking of things to do to make myself busy. i dont have to be busy cause its my day off, for chrissake. fuck the mid-life crisis. im having a huge fucking wigg-out-cause-im-not-even-25-yet-and-im-shitting-my-pantalones crisis. what the fuck am i doing with my life. the simple answer being:

not a goddamn thing.

i can write as many snarky mean-spirited things as i want on this site. it does not take me any closer to having, at the very least, a goal in life. i really and truly do not have one. not at all. not a motherfuckin goal in sight. im drifting like that poor bastard in the ancient mariner poem.

and theres no big fat dead bird around my neck either. which would be a nice, albeit stinky, excuse. why cant all the things im interested in be actual job opportunities? nobody wants to listen to some pished off bastard whine about their lot in life, but im really fucking good at it. i could win the really pished off bastard about their lot in life olympics. gold motherfuckin medal. bitch.

working in a goddamn cubicle for the next 40 years of my life is my version of super-hell. and my boss would be this evil fuck-tard that says "m'kay" alot and asks me to work on saturdays. i would rather die. alot. and then maybe be resuscitated and die some more.

my dad worked a shit god-forsaken job to provide for his family and his ailing wife because he had to. dude busted his ass and sold the best parts of his youth to a fucking butt-monkey job, and the raging douche-lickers that he worked for never even recognized or gave him credit for being the hard-working, ass-kicking, bad-ass motherfucker he is. and im supposed to enter the work force with this as my background? i think motherfuckin not.

but then theres my brother. busting his ass in an almost identical cubicle. about to get married and strapped down in much the same manner as my father. and im like, goddamnit. no. this will not be my life.

so what'll it be then. sucking the corporate teet? living on the street? shit if i know.

these and other thoughts regularly contribute to my foul moods. obviously.


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