drunk-talk

I'll take no quarter.
Kill me here.
If I am beaten,
Why wait a year?

This hanging on, scraping by and getting through is pissing me off. Maybe it's my own fault. Probably, because I drink and do drugs, I inevitably must be a fuck up. That's the only way I can make sense of shit sometimes. It's like, the drugs are an excuse for a shitty life. If I had a shitty life and no drugs to blame, it's like, fuck what do you do, pick up a habit? People are so unreliable, they leave you hanging and stranded and broke and alone, no worse than drugs. At least drugs don't claim to do otherwise. They tell you right off; we're an escape from your mundane existence, we will eventually kill you. Friends don't mention that on the playground in grade 3 when you meet them. Oh, by the way, I'll turn my back on you if you get too haggard.

What a fucking cry-baby. Shut-up and keep it to yourself. Which really works out to a double shut-up. What good did talking ever do a person? Not a nation, a lone wolf mother-fucker like you, what did you ever gain by making your presence and opinions known.

Fucking spell-check, I better be spot on I guess.

So, is there any use in blaming my misfortunes on those responsible? Unless it's me, not really. How will I grow, but to learn distrust. I think I have that lesson covered. We're all crooks, don't leve shit unattended, because someone will steal it. Don't turn your back on someone holding, well, anything. I don't know, I'm probably agoraphobic and paranoid and it's probably no one's fault but my own. But if that's the case, should I be left to my own devices? Or should I be lobatomized and used as a worker slave?

No clear right and no clear wrong.
But it all sounds good if it rhymes like a song.
And it's got a beat and you move your feet,
and bob your head, then your life's complete.

Maybe I want to blame others for my own mistakes.
Definetly I want to, but maybe I do.

Our world is filled with cinderella rags to riches stories of people getting saved from their crummy lives and well, being rich. They say money can't buy happiness, but I bet it makes you happy knowing you'll never have to worry about food, so long as the economy doesn't collapse and the world doesn't end. Knowing you'll always have a place to sleep, and lights and heat. Money to buy books or maybe even to travel. It's such a production to leave the city for a night, you need to make travel and sleeping arrangements, allocate extra finances as well as book the appropriate time off. You can't just go somewhere for no reason...

Or can you?

I'd like to do that. Travel, more like wander aimlessly, just taking in the sights. Looking for action, lending a hand(or more likely an insight) when I can. That sounds better than working the same shit job, struggling to curb your natural instincts to tell everyone to fuck off and quit, still barely getting by, drinking excessively to cope with you self-abaitment. At least when you are genuinely looking everyday for food and shelter, you are invested in what you are doing. You really care. Not like your shit job selling whatever crap or doing whatever shitty surveys over the phone. "It's not even done over the phone! We send it through the mail!" Shutup working-Me. Your dead until tomorrow morning. And I'm leaving you a present. It's called a hangover. Have fun.

God damn I'm a dick, but I'm awesome. Heh heh. I made myself smile. Alright, I'll get through tomorrow, and thus another week. Hopefully this weekend will bring some strange fortuitous experiences.

philoso-fee

I'm up for work, but work won't work. I'm still on the clock so I hope it lasts. Getting paid to read and write is fine by me.


I'm in my productive and social head space. Polite and professional. No swearing of course, well, maybe between calls. That's right, I make calls for a living. No sales, but unsolicited calls.


"I'm on a Do Not Call list," "What you don't know who you're calling? " "I said I'm not interested!" "Why do you need to know that?" "How'd you get my number?" "I don't live here and that's the wrong number, but take me off your list" "I never listen to the radio!" et cetera


Who can blame me for enjoying a little quiet time on the company dime?


Should I put in my hours to try and have more money for leisure time? But, I'd have less leisure time if I worked more, so would I need more money? I'm always concerned that if I have more money than I need, I'll end up getting drunk a lot. It just seems to happen. Well, that 20$ is burning a hole in my pocket, I better get rid of it. Who will take this money, let's see, I bet the liquor store will! Next day, Ugh, I feel like shit, I made a mess, and smoked more weed and cigarettes than I should have, setting me back financially. Undoing the 'getting ahead' I had tried for.


So I work part-time, pay down my loan, have smokes and get stoned. By books and video games now and then. Drink on occasion. Not getting ahead really, but not falling behind. Am I coasting? Afraid to crash? With my record, is it any wonder? Word to the wise; don't take benzos behind the wheel. What am I waiting for? A death and inheritance? That's cold. An opportunity to present itself? That's lazy or childish or something. Just wait, and the universe will open itself to you. I don't know about that.


What do I even want? Besides autonomy and independence. Not freedom from the laws of the land, but freedom from financial dependence. I want a place of my own with some space of my own. I want to be able to try things and document and record results. I want a lab or workshop.


I don't even know what I'll produce. Will it be studies on the active metabolites of research chemicals, thus far unknown to science? Will it be science fiction, writing that shapes the future of thought? Will it be political commentary, and reflections on life? Or will I carve clocks out of wood and sell them to overly rich folks to sustain myself? Will I write songs and sell them to artists, like a studio musician or ghost writer? Will I grow primo dope, or brew some skunk beer or green dragon. Will I become a world renowned psychonaut, mapping the multiverse for future travellers? Will I sell the best space cakes Amsterdam has ever seen? Will I find a way to mechanically separate the pieces of dried marijuana for ease of consumption?


Will I live a tragedy, getting my shit together just in time for my own funeral?


Reading my own writing, I notice my temporal concerns seem not to involve the need for genetic continuity. Namely, I never mentioned a wife and kids. Like that is secondary to my own 'research'. Is that because I'm not worried about genetic continuity, and I assume I'll have no trouble in that respect? Or because I assume it's a fruitless endeavour, serving only to distract me from my greater goals. Perhaps both are true, like, if I were to suddenly isolate myself and go into deep study, that could be quite distressing to any partner I had at the time. Once I was/am established(assuming such a thing should ever come to pass), it would be much more reasonable to tolerate my seclusion if I had already successfully produced saleable materials in such a manner.


Maybe it's even more simple than that; write what you know. But I'm all over the board with this post, and I don't know any of it. All thoughts and speculation. Except for the paid to do it being good part, that I know. I should be a professional philosopher. It'd be nice to pull a Socrates and get some understudy to write down all my musings for me. Lazy fuck, now we all have to read Plato's Republic. Who am I kidding, philosophy is awesome. Even two-thousand years ago, we were trying to fix society's problems. Dangerous work, picking apart reality, looking for truth. Certainly not for the faint of heart.



So many interesting topics to cover in one lifetime. Let alone to build off of. A lot of background work to familiarize myself with before I try to innovate. Paralyzing the amount of knowledge I yet lack. Impossible to contain it all. Choose topics of interest, and topics of value. Not topics of popularity or topics of convenience. "Think for yourself, question authority" Tim Leary, isn't he an authority now? I question that. Question authority, and if it answers are to your satisfaction, accept it. Like gravity. I didn't write Newton's Laws, Or Einstein's, but I read them. I questioned them, and found them to be at least a workable system for understanding physics and reality. Now, as we approach faster than light travel, we'll have to see how the laws of relativity hold up under extreme conditions. Is that what Tim Leary meant? Accept the groundwork authority, but don't buy into bad science, or bad extrapolations. Correlation does not equal causation. The history of science is filled with blunders. It's how a lot of really interesting anomalies were discovered. You get a result from an experiment that is greatly different from what you anticipated. Now the task is to find out why? Contamination, poor materials either due to crooked distributors or careless lab work, miscalculation, or something else. A flaw in our understanding of the principles involved in the experiment. Maybe, the math is good, but there's an unknown force involved confounding the researcher. To identify, name, and describe such forces, is to tame the unknown.



But alas, I must work now. For the technical difficulties have been eliminated.
\m/

thoughts before sleep

"The Power of a Million Exploding Suns"...
"So once when I was six, I did..."
only what was necessary.
My thoughts come in bits.
Hard to focus.


It's hot. Well, I'm sweating, I feel hot I should say, or it seems hot.
It's hot. It's itchy. It? My leg. Well, now the other. I can smell the ashtray.
My face tingles. Transient Ischemic Attack? "T. I.A., This Is Africa" Duh Tee Aye Yay!


Do diseases that target genetic groups really exist in nature? Or were they mostly created intentionally for that characteristic? Well, not like diabetes, but like, sickle cell anemia? I'm not too familiar with it, but I've read in the past that such projects existed, for the purpose of creating biological weapons that exploit specific genetic groups. Ethnic cleansing and all that jazz. Like they don't know they value of diversity. Farmers plant different species of crop to safeguard against any one pest or problem ruining the whole crop. Have some more resistant to flooding. Some resistant to disease. Some resistant to insects. Some able to withstand drought. And so on.

So wouldn't we want to ensure that the human race remains genetically diverse to safeguard against any changes in climate, any biological issues, any change of environment basically. Wouldn't want one pandemic to wipe out everybody. So, we need to retain genetic diversity. We obviously know about inbreeding and the dangers it poses. Perhaps such programs have been abandoned by those with the capability to run them.


thoughts move elsewhere. some one's making toast. dryer's on. Eyes are blurry. Work tomorrow. Another hour sleep. Write a code in capital Letters? No no, too much work, nothing cool to encode. Did I eat that? I must have, it's gone now. Am I thirsty? My back is sore, is that the same? Loud chairs. Or is it a loud floor? Bacon IS great.Eggs and toast? Sheppard's pie? An old cookie? Ritz. Do we have salami? Ah never mind, have a drink. Have a few. Typo retyping, typically. Typecast. Tipecast. Tipe? Tipe.


I wonder if in death we have to discuss our thoughts in life. I sort've hope not, but it might be fun, who knows.