It's me birthday. A little late, I think, compared to when most people consider putting a mumble where a number ought to be.
I can see how that happens, now, though.
I hadn't been drinking, but again, woke up foggy from sleeping on the floor - fully dressed with the computer next to my head - not knowing where I was or how I got there.
Obviously my nightly rituals are becoming as arbitrary as my daily heartbreak. Do a Blues check:
"You're you. You're here, wherever "here" can be on a spinning planet. It's today, whatever "day" it is on a spinning planet. You're safe - for now. Events change. Take a shower."
It's also Slavery Day. Like I need a reminder, or slavery only deserves a day. If I had someone to consult for answers to it, I would, but it quite obviously never occurred to life we, who perform that service for others, have needs.
Needs that will never be successful, by Western standards, so the future doesn't look bright.
Needs that will never be successful, by Western standards, so the future doesn't look bright.
As it is, existence is filled with NewAge idiots by the trillions instead, mouthing feminist pablum, testing the gag reflex upon contact.
Time for a slavery check:
"What are you going to do with this, Beloved?"
This year I think I'll go easy on myself, and feel a little low for being handsome, but not exceptionally so - just enough, to know what it feels like, and still reap everyone's disappointment.
And I'll always be out of sorts as a vessel of talent, but in no immediately-discernible fashion, like an empty room until tested for sound.
And I'll always be out of sorts as a vessel of talent, but in no immediately-discernible fashion, like an empty room until tested for sound.
Not trading sex for favors wasn't helpful either. I could've gotten a lot further otherwise. Especially when whites get to experimenting.
I think that's all sincerity is to others. Something to "try" that can be walked away from just as easily. Everything can be walked away from. Nothing really matters. Not to most of them. Why to me?
Because (of the debatable premise) I'm not "crazy"? Not having parental indoctrination, I haven't ditched religion for a belief system - but avoid beliefs altogether - my other great "failure" to others? I don't wear a white lab coat and get paid, for pretending to work, at the homeopathy factory? I don't talk with a smile, as lop-sided as the stories I tell?
Has anybody tested the effects of mixing drugs, with salt of the Earth, yet? Is that fluoridation? Here's a reality check:
A dog, dying by the highway, eating spewed gravel and cigarette butts to the sound of 18-wheelers passing, at least doesn't understand the death of dignity.
They also never knew (or even knew of) this "slavery."
Good for them.
As of today, on the other hand, I'm 53 years old,…
Happy Birthday.
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