Happy Birthday to Me. . . yesterday that is.
Here is my list of things to Focus on:
1. Getting the Fuck outta this House, I hate it here, and I can no longer take it.
2. Getting on the Schedule at Work. Not just a call in.
3. Get Car to work perfectly without it just dying for no reason.
4. Pay off-all outstanding debts. This should be complete soon... but.
5. Finding a way to entertain myself without recreational drugs.
6. Exercise. Exercise. Exercise.
7. Stop breaking the law whereas my karma will be reflected unto so.
8.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
Monday, February 28, 2011
Monday! Monday! Monday!
Hey, hey, hey.
It's the last day of February, 2011, and the wind is blowing something fierce outside. I awoke kinda early today. I've been retaining a regular sleep schedule these days, which is something a little more contemporary than I'm used too. I'm feeling better. Routines and schedules are something I'm trying to incorporate more and more of these days. Hold on, let me sip my coffee, and flick my cigarette.
Last night was the Oscars. It was soooo boring to watch- but my stomach always goes into knots the second they utter the words, ". . . and the Oscar goes too. . . " and I end up with a stupid smile on my face or some disappointing look of hate. Ha. I fucking loved Inception- and I wanted it to win everything it could. My gal pal Natalie Portman (ha, I wish) took home the shining gold man for her work in "Black Swan" a movie I fucking adore. I hated the hosts, I just feel like I could do such a better job ;) I drank like 6 beers and smoked 3 joints, but I wasn't nearly fucked up enough to handle all the singing and of course PS22's lovely jaunt at the end. I just can't take all the happiness. Too cheezy. Why do we have to pretend ? ? ?
Yep. Not much going on today. I'm just gonna be a fucking lazy bum and roam around my cage until darkness falls and I can fall asleep. I need to be more pro-active. I need to be re-active. I just hafta start being active, yo. Comfort and familiarity will be my death, so I must step outta my comfort zone and achieve, conquer, and destroy.
Awaiting to hear back from me mum. I always am waiting for that harlot to respond. Humph. Will TODAY be the day???
Friday, February 18, 2011
Eftermidaggen
What the fuck is real anymore? I can't stop thinking.
I feel so sorry for myself and all sorts of situations that IS my life.
All I want is for someone to be there for me when the tears start. And, like, is that too much to ask?
I have to pass this drug test for a job. It keeps reminding me of Eugene. I was deathly poor and I had applied at Target. I nailed the interview and was hired on the spot. It was the solution to all our monetary problems! I just had to pass this drug test. SO. The cunning fox I am I got my good dear neighbor to piss for me. I fucking took his piss, transferred it into a condom, and shoved that shit so far under my balls I could swear I had three testicles. Of course upon transferring my urine filled condom into the cup, it had grown too cold and I had to re-piss with my own piss. Of course I failed. If I didn't smoke pot I would have gotten that job and would probably still be living happily in Eugene. But I didn't. I cried so hard that night.
So. I haven't smoked in like 2 days. Someone says they will piss for me, but I keep getting flashbacks of Target and my destiny to fail.
Why do they test for marijuana?? my god. I'm not a fucking crack head or a meth addict. I can do my work perfectly fine. This fucking plant is my anti-depressant. I've been so suicidal these past days it's unreal. I'm out of my actual prescribed depression medicine because the stupid doctor only gave me 15 daily pills to last for 30 days. Yeah, because that makes PERFECT sense. I'm so chemically unbalanced, I fear I could do anything.
I lost my apartment and had to move into a place with no privacy and no privileges. I feel like I'm in jail. Again. I need support. I can't get it from anyone. I text a friend, no answer. I text another friend, no fucking answer. I would give the fucking clothes offa my back for these people, and they can't even give me a shoulder to cry on?? Where's the romance, where's the justice, where's the fucking compasion?
So I'm sitting here. With nothing to do. I tried to go to the library and check out some books. BUT you hafta to have money these days. I have no money. I have nothing. Just my thoughts. My endless swirling thoughts of doom.
The potential I posses is pathetic. I am too tired to fight the fight anymore. I was tired when I was eight years old being beaten with a belt for no fucking reason. I was tired when my parent's divorced, again. I was tired even before all the drugs.
My grandparents sent Beau money. They don't even call me. But they will send their 6 year old autistic grandchild money. That's the love that surrounds me. My family? What family? I raised myself, and I didn't do a very good job at it.
I just wanna get so fucked up I don't wake up. But I can't. I have a drug test in a couple o days. What if I fail?? even after sobering up and putting myself through all this chemical pain. How stupid will I feel then?? It would just be my luck.
I'm destined to die alone, working at some fucking Dairy Queen, thinking of ways I could have done things differently.
Who would even want to be with me? With all this shit? My chaotic mind always racing towards nihilistic upbringings. I have so much love to give. It's just not fair.
Not even my best friend Bryen gets it. He can sit there with a check for 180 bucks in his pocket for days and days and even when we have no food or nothing to do, he never exclaims, "HEY! I got an idea, let's cash my check, you and I can get some food, then we'll get a bottle and drink the night away!" Nope. He would rather sit on his computer with his imaginary life and pretend everything is all good.
I'm tired of complaining. I just needed to talk, and no one wanted to listen.
I feel so sorry for myself and all sorts of situations that IS my life.
All I want is for someone to be there for me when the tears start. And, like, is that too much to ask?
I have to pass this drug test for a job. It keeps reminding me of Eugene. I was deathly poor and I had applied at Target. I nailed the interview and was hired on the spot. It was the solution to all our monetary problems! I just had to pass this drug test. SO. The cunning fox I am I got my good dear neighbor to piss for me. I fucking took his piss, transferred it into a condom, and shoved that shit so far under my balls I could swear I had three testicles. Of course upon transferring my urine filled condom into the cup, it had grown too cold and I had to re-piss with my own piss. Of course I failed. If I didn't smoke pot I would have gotten that job and would probably still be living happily in Eugene. But I didn't. I cried so hard that night.
So. I haven't smoked in like 2 days. Someone says they will piss for me, but I keep getting flashbacks of Target and my destiny to fail.
Why do they test for marijuana?? my god. I'm not a fucking crack head or a meth addict. I can do my work perfectly fine. This fucking plant is my anti-depressant. I've been so suicidal these past days it's unreal. I'm out of my actual prescribed depression medicine because the stupid doctor only gave me 15 daily pills to last for 30 days. Yeah, because that makes PERFECT sense. I'm so chemically unbalanced, I fear I could do anything.
I lost my apartment and had to move into a place with no privacy and no privileges. I feel like I'm in jail. Again. I need support. I can't get it from anyone. I text a friend, no answer. I text another friend, no fucking answer. I would give the fucking clothes offa my back for these people, and they can't even give me a shoulder to cry on?? Where's the romance, where's the justice, where's the fucking compasion?
So I'm sitting here. With nothing to do. I tried to go to the library and check out some books. BUT you hafta to have money these days. I have no money. I have nothing. Just my thoughts. My endless swirling thoughts of doom.
The potential I posses is pathetic. I am too tired to fight the fight anymore. I was tired when I was eight years old being beaten with a belt for no fucking reason. I was tired when my parent's divorced, again. I was tired even before all the drugs.
My grandparents sent Beau money. They don't even call me. But they will send their 6 year old autistic grandchild money. That's the love that surrounds me. My family? What family? I raised myself, and I didn't do a very good job at it.
I just wanna get so fucked up I don't wake up. But I can't. I have a drug test in a couple o days. What if I fail?? even after sobering up and putting myself through all this chemical pain. How stupid will I feel then?? It would just be my luck.
I'm destined to die alone, working at some fucking Dairy Queen, thinking of ways I could have done things differently.
Who would even want to be with me? With all this shit? My chaotic mind always racing towards nihilistic upbringings. I have so much love to give. It's just not fair.
Not even my best friend Bryen gets it. He can sit there with a check for 180 bucks in his pocket for days and days and even when we have no food or nothing to do, he never exclaims, "HEY! I got an idea, let's cash my check, you and I can get some food, then we'll get a bottle and drink the night away!" Nope. He would rather sit on his computer with his imaginary life and pretend everything is all good.
I'm tired of complaining. I just needed to talk, and no one wanted to listen.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Tis been many moons bitches.
Yeah.
I quit at Fuddrucker's. Too many months too late if you ask me. I hated that place with such a passion, the final month, I didn't give a single fuck about anything. It's so sad. I was so happy to get employed there. I was trained in two states. TWO. This poor fag got to travel, via airplane, to both Arizona and Missouri, and I learned management. Tis a shame I never got to use my education to it's full potential.A bunch of crazy shit started happening the last month. Maybe I just stopped caring. Maybe I wanted to get caught. Anyways. SHIT has been falling. and I can't wait till it hits the fan.
I got drunk one night at a party and literally, over a stupid miss-understaning, beat the shit outta my best friend. Bad. The guilt and anger I had over myself was tremendous. Am I becoming my father when I drink? I've strived for years to be everything my parent's aren't. Yet as depression creeps up towards the midnight hours, it gets harder and harder to resist.
I just want to be happy. To be happy without the use of substances. Is that too hard to ask???
I met someone. Of course he's married. They all are. Am I destined to die alone??? Whatever. He makes me feel so happy, and that's all I care about these days.
I had a job interview today. Taking care of those in need. I'm excited. Excited to earn money.
I'm going back to college. Try and stop me. I want to go to culinary school, work at a restaurant and paint art til the day I die. As long as I have someone next to me at night, I could ask for nothing better.
Had my own apartment for like 2 months. But of course. The Lund luck strikes again. Now I'm back to Bryen's parent's house. Sharing a room with my best friend, which doesn't bother me, but I miss my privacy. I miss decorating. I miss being creative.
I've been running a lot. Lifting weights. Turning my skeletal body into somesort of toned slender alien. Eh. At least I'm healthy :)
Monday, November 15, 2010
Yeah. It's fucking November.
Not only was I promoted to Manager at work, flown away to St. Louis MO for training for two and half weeks, dealt with all the insane crazy stress that came with the job, but it is now a time in place and matter that I am no longer manager.
I had an affair with a married man. Nothing penetrating mostly slurping. But still. The chaotic-ness of the situation is still something I'm trying to comprehend. Just the whole story and the whole situation is so fucked-up, it would have happened to me- and boy golly it happened hard.
The toxicicity of this town is so infectious. I am literally weeping away from the inside out- all my decisions being a malfeasance from greed and egotistical outsources. I just don't know these days.
I work and work and work and work and work and work. And I get paid once a month. I try and try to be a succesful adult. I got a car- but now it doesn't work. It's like no matter how much money I invest into becoming what is considered a "normal" adult, isn't working. I'm destined to rot in this town. I'm destined to be used by people. I just don't know these days.
Whatever. I don't wanna get sad. I just wanted to post something, since my last was in fucking JULY!!! jeez.
I literally don't know what to say to my friends anymore- I just feel like I'm not good enough to make any of them happy. I just want to be content with my life. Is that too hard to ask??
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Leaf House
"ehhhhhhhhhhahhhahhhahhhhaaahhhaaahhhaaaahhhaaaahhhaaaaawaaaahaaaa"
I'm main Chef. Head Grill. I'm so very intrigued by my turn of events. Both my brother and my best friend now occupy my place of employment- queer verdad?? The confidence flowing within my veins is staggering- anxious butterflies swarming into reactions, movements, the correctness of procedures. All I needed was for work to start. To occupy this hungry bread n' hustlin head o mine.Even with my intense loneliness, my echo of a man-less life, is slowling closing. *shrug* what's a fag to do? I love my best friends, all of them, the bitches that stay by my side. My family is not my mother, nor even my sista papa or half bro bro- my friends and inner soul is what keeps me a ticking. What about sanity you say? Fuck the calamnity that is my life, I'm done worrying- let's just laugh about it.
Let's all take a moment to laugh about life. So ridiculous this journey may seem, and it is no illusion. Work, sleep, cry, pray, work, sweat, bleed, work, sleep, eat eat eat, anger, horny, alone, work, work, death.
All I want is to be in love again. When I was in love, all bad matter and negative energy moved its sassy ass somewhere else, the inflated heart is not one to fuck with me. I have a lot of goals and dreams and wishes, I'm being proactive, but this ginger is still STUCK in time.
I miss Mitch Drinkwater with all my soul. He was the reason to rebel, the reason to try new things. He was my yang damnit, and together we laughed our way through the ridiculousness that is this life. No matter where we are, Mitch, we are always touching by underground wires, and I just wanted you to know that.
I got a puppy. Frannie is her name. Energy and Schizo are her attributes, but the love emitting from that tiny vessel is more than enough to ease this depressive hole of a heart. I love her tiny shits and how they don't smell. I love her kisses, boy does she love to give tongue the little whore. I'm so glad to have a new life companion. One that will always look up to me in admiration and love, and I can reciprocate, and all will be well.
I miss the past. I miss my friends. I'm ready to get this party started. Won't anybody come dance with me? My god, I just wanna lose myself, forget it all, and jive until the ginger frizz upon my head is nothing but a raggedy andy mop.
This is a shout out to Good Music. Good Friends. And finally fucking working. Thank you world, I appreciate your kindness. . . today at least.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Let's Make It Magical
Holy Fuck guess what? 3 days before opening at my new job- they drop this tiny bombshell on little ole Raymond- He is no longer shift manager! Jee Whiz! What luck!
I totally saw it coming. I work so hard. I try to hard. I didn't even get a chance. . .
Bryen (Harry) Harris and I are totes partying at 1-30 am. We worked late so our juices be pumping. Trying to pick out a movie to distract ourselves- possibilites??? An Alien movie sounds amazing- cept we have been watching those flics many a time over the past weeks. Alas, Harry just chose the winner- Halloween 6 with a very young, and very ridiculous, Paul Rudd. A Classic in my eyes. Ah. Nothing like gore to make you feel better about being alive!
SO. I've actually been working. Traing. Doing and learning things I gleaned in Arizona. Very redundant. Just working Cashier stuff. BUT today lucky me got picked to be switched to the grill- the very same area that made me break down and cry in Phoenix- with a smile, I accepted. So, this is going to be a very very very different job than what I was expecting. Whatever gives me money. Whatever it takes to survive.
Life here at the trailer has been very hot. It insultates heat like a very well put-together oven. My mother's constant drug use and mood swings is driving me insane. But I'm stuck. At least I'm working. At least I'm trying.
Someday Someday
this very Gay Ray
shall escape into Wednesday-
His art will wonder, his hair will swirl,
love will be desired, and his magic will pearl.
Upwards and Downwards, Sidewards and Onwards
Luck, my dear friend, haven't no forwards.
Like Freddy the Krueger, my mind is in shreds-
I have no man, no beast, to fuck up my beds.
Where is my soul? Where art thou Mind?
I've made mistakes, no regrets, nay on rewind.
I must move on. I will survive. I'm destined for greatness.
But don't worry folks, I'm still very scared shitless.
I totally saw it coming. I work so hard. I try to hard. I didn't even get a chance. . .
Bryen (Harry) Harris and I are totes partying at 1-30 am. We worked late so our juices be pumping. Trying to pick out a movie to distract ourselves- possibilites??? An Alien movie sounds amazing- cept we have been watching those flics many a time over the past weeks. Alas, Harry just chose the winner- Halloween 6 with a very young, and very ridiculous, Paul Rudd. A Classic in my eyes. Ah. Nothing like gore to make you feel better about being alive!
SO. I've actually been working. Traing. Doing and learning things I gleaned in Arizona. Very redundant. Just working Cashier stuff. BUT today lucky me got picked to be switched to the grill- the very same area that made me break down and cry in Phoenix- with a smile, I accepted. So, this is going to be a very very very different job than what I was expecting. Whatever gives me money. Whatever it takes to survive.
Life here at the trailer has been very hot. It insultates heat like a very well put-together oven. My mother's constant drug use and mood swings is driving me insane. But I'm stuck. At least I'm working. At least I'm trying.
Someday Someday
this very Gay Ray
shall escape into Wednesday-
His art will wonder, his hair will swirl,
love will be desired, and his magic will pearl.
Upwards and Downwards, Sidewards and Onwards
Luck, my dear friend, haven't no forwards.
Like Freddy the Krueger, my mind is in shreds-
I have no man, no beast, to fuck up my beds.
Where is my soul? Where art thou Mind?
I've made mistakes, no regrets, nay on rewind.
I must move on. I will survive. I'm destined for greatness.
But don't worry folks, I'm still very scared shitless.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Simplification
Don't you always ponder the past and just wonder, "why did I ever do that?"
I try to hold the philosophy that I will never regret anything I ever do, enjoy my human experience for all it's worth. Yet, lately, the "shoulda's" and the "coulda's" have just been on the tip of mind. Damn. I should have stayed in school. Fuck. I shouldn't smoke pot. Holly Hell. Why do I let people use me?
I really don't know who I am anymore. Am I the same freckly, ginger haired boy that graduated valedictorian and was in all the school plays? Always animated with a smile on my face, and an eager joke ready to be lifted offa my tongue? Eh. I went off to college and met some of my bestest friends yet- people that completed the parts of soul that were missing- but they all gave up on me and are traveling down their own paths. I'm left alone, again, to experience life and do things according to what I think is right. and Lord knows I wasn't raised correctly. So we all know how that can turn out.
I always think of the past- the goods times, the bad, the in-between. "I should have done that!" or "Why didn't I just do . . ." always pop into my head months after the conflict has already met the resolution. I guess that's the great thing about being human, and thinking. Re-examining the bad parts to make you a better person, remembering the good times for a quick happy pick-me-up, or just forgetting all the boring in-between memories because they just aren't quite worth it.
I just don't know what to do these days. I'm stuck in time. Awaiting change, awaiting some fantastical miracle to come save me. I am the bearer of my own destiny, and I know I have already acted accordingly, but, fuck me Freddie, am I tired of trying. Trying and ultimately failing. Ask anyone who know's me the dearest, and they will provide just as much proof to this statement:
My life is unreal. I have the worst luck ever.
I'm always grateful for each breathe I take, I never know if it will be my last. I realize how delicate the human experience is, and I want to get to it all. I never take anything for granted. I'm such a nihilist. But to quote Kevin Barnes I'm a "Nihilist with a good imagination". I can imagine a happy perfect life. I just can't imagine me getting there. I do stupid things, I break the law all the time. It's only a matter of time and space before karma comes to collect up on me. Yet then again, there's the opposite. My life has been filled with such infectious hatred and evil, when is it my turn to be happy? to be normal?
FUCK THE NORMAL.
I'm gay. I'm a red-head. I smoke weed. I pastel really well. I love Stephen King. I love getting hurt and bruises. I'm skinny and white as hell. I'm very sarcastic. I feel too smart sometimes, even tho I'm so retarded. My parent's never raised me, my parent's are drug addicts. I feel so smart, but then again at times- so fucking naive. What's it like to have two loving parent's raise you? What's it like to have parent's with money to bail you outta your tough spots? What's it like to have your mother NOT be on probation?
I love being an actor. To escape into another character and to forget everything that is and was Raymond Lund. I think that's why I'm so good at it. I'm so readily willing to give up any truth of my existence to let another being be brought to life. Oh god, how I miss the stage!
I'm too lazy. I think I gave up years ago. My grand finale was high school- then bam! Ray discovers drugs. Eugene, OR may have been a bad call, and you can call a spade a spade, but you fucking people lied! D.A.R.E. lied! You always said drugs were bad, but you never said why! and you never said they make you feel so damn good! but that's just a bullshit statement, because in the end, it's all an illusion- drugs don't make you feel good, they fuck up your shit.
*shrug*
I want to smoke some pot so bad. I just hate everything about my situation. I hate never having any money. I hate never having any privacy. I just hate everything right now. My best friend. My mom. Myself.
I always feel like I'm waiting.
Even tho I try so hard.
I'm waiting and waiting.
for something good to happen.
do you think it ever will?
or will I be a fucking 90 year skin sack still lookin for that rainbow on a clear day?
Time will tell, and that's what pisses me off. Time. I want change, and I want it now. Fuck waiting and all it's principles. I'm a unique individual with skills to be shown, but goddamn how I fucked it all up. And that's just all I can think about these days.
I try to hold the philosophy that I will never regret anything I ever do, enjoy my human experience for all it's worth. Yet, lately, the "shoulda's" and the "coulda's" have just been on the tip of mind. Damn. I should have stayed in school. Fuck. I shouldn't smoke pot. Holly Hell. Why do I let people use me?
I really don't know who I am anymore. Am I the same freckly, ginger haired boy that graduated valedictorian and was in all the school plays? Always animated with a smile on my face, and an eager joke ready to be lifted offa my tongue? Eh. I went off to college and met some of my bestest friends yet- people that completed the parts of soul that were missing- but they all gave up on me and are traveling down their own paths. I'm left alone, again, to experience life and do things according to what I think is right. and Lord knows I wasn't raised correctly. So we all know how that can turn out.
I always think of the past- the goods times, the bad, the in-between. "I should have done that!" or "Why didn't I just do . . ." always pop into my head months after the conflict has already met the resolution. I guess that's the great thing about being human, and thinking. Re-examining the bad parts to make you a better person, remembering the good times for a quick happy pick-me-up, or just forgetting all the boring in-between memories because they just aren't quite worth it.
I just don't know what to do these days. I'm stuck in time. Awaiting change, awaiting some fantastical miracle to come save me. I am the bearer of my own destiny, and I know I have already acted accordingly, but, fuck me Freddie, am I tired of trying. Trying and ultimately failing. Ask anyone who know's me the dearest, and they will provide just as much proof to this statement:
My life is unreal. I have the worst luck ever.
I'm always grateful for each breathe I take, I never know if it will be my last. I realize how delicate the human experience is, and I want to get to it all. I never take anything for granted. I'm such a nihilist. But to quote Kevin Barnes I'm a "Nihilist with a good imagination". I can imagine a happy perfect life. I just can't imagine me getting there. I do stupid things, I break the law all the time. It's only a matter of time and space before karma comes to collect up on me. Yet then again, there's the opposite. My life has been filled with such infectious hatred and evil, when is it my turn to be happy? to be normal?
FUCK THE NORMAL.
I'm gay. I'm a red-head. I smoke weed. I pastel really well. I love Stephen King. I love getting hurt and bruises. I'm skinny and white as hell. I'm very sarcastic. I feel too smart sometimes, even tho I'm so retarded. My parent's never raised me, my parent's are drug addicts. I feel so smart, but then again at times- so fucking naive. What's it like to have two loving parent's raise you? What's it like to have parent's with money to bail you outta your tough spots? What's it like to have your mother NOT be on probation?
I love being an actor. To escape into another character and to forget everything that is and was Raymond Lund. I think that's why I'm so good at it. I'm so readily willing to give up any truth of my existence to let another being be brought to life. Oh god, how I miss the stage!
I'm too lazy. I think I gave up years ago. My grand finale was high school- then bam! Ray discovers drugs. Eugene, OR may have been a bad call, and you can call a spade a spade, but you fucking people lied! D.A.R.E. lied! You always said drugs were bad, but you never said why! and you never said they make you feel so damn good! but that's just a bullshit statement, because in the end, it's all an illusion- drugs don't make you feel good, they fuck up your shit.
*shrug*
I want to smoke some pot so bad. I just hate everything about my situation. I hate never having any money. I hate never having any privacy. I just hate everything right now. My best friend. My mom. Myself.
I always feel like I'm waiting.
Even tho I try so hard.
I'm waiting and waiting.
for something good to happen.
do you think it ever will?
or will I be a fucking 90 year skin sack still lookin for that rainbow on a clear day?
Time will tell, and that's what pisses me off. Time. I want change, and I want it now. Fuck waiting and all it's principles. I'm a unique individual with skills to be shown, but goddamn how I fucked it all up. And that's just all I can think about these days.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Silent Rage
Silent Rage would be the title of the movie for my best friend Bryen Leslie Harris.
and what would mine be? you may ask.
...hrrrmmmmm.
we have
A. Reflections: A Dive Into Ginger Homosexuality
or
B. Annie II - Annie Harder
I just simply can't wait to put my whole life tale on papel. It will be of most great satisfaction.
SO. I've been so poor. but I've always been poor, but this time, I'm the actual one who has no money. I've been working since I was sixteen. Fun jobs, money to spend- but I ended up quitting the local Dairy Queen to early. I just couldn't handle dealing with that fast food joint after having 2 weeks of intense management training. I felt too superior, and I know I shouldn't, but I was like- How can you take this place seriously, it's a fucking DQ? For some people this is their only means of income in any way, so praise Ra for it, but it is not in any way shape or form fit for Raymond. So I just called in about an hour early before my shift and quit. Now, I don't have any paychecks to look forward too, or work to occupy the dead time that is my day. Hmph.
Buuuuut I am working at Fuddrucker's. Like, actually working. I was helping with construction which was way out of my norm, but I put forth my best effort- fuck physical labor tho- and ever since then I have been training the cashiers on the P. O. S. It feels nice to train people and to be a shift leader, because I know I can do it. I need the hours, I need the monthly paycheck- I need the power. Haha. Riiiiiiiiiight.
I have such goals. & I got my dear friend Bryen a job! In case you don't know Bryen is a complete lazy bum who hasn't ever never had a job in his whole (almost) 21 years of life- but with my sauvy skills and my gay touch I got him hired at Fuddies. Yay! I get to work with my best friend. So does that mean something bad gets to happen??? Karma, you whore, decide quickly because I have goals, o boy does this boy have dreams.
I wanna move to San Fransisco (duh fag). I wanna write novels. I wanna write my stand-up. I wanna make people laugh. I wanna be financially ok. I wanna have a man. I wanna cigarette. I want. I want. I want. I need, I need, I need. . . Holy Jesus so many things! I am in no way content with my life, the horrid tale that is my daily existence. I want a complete 180 degree turnaround, keep all the good parts, shave off all those devil hairs, and be complacent.
I called dear my friend Sarah today. No answer. I called my dear friend Amanda today- I had the best conversation, not only was I high as fuck, but I hadn't had this deep of a connection with someone in a long time. Jeepers Creepers do I miss her. The talk was therapeutic. I enjoyed it immensely.
I can ramble on some more, but that weed o'er there looks mighty tastey- and btw, I wanna cigarette.
MUSIC FOR YOUR LIFE TODAY
1. Hey- Pixies
2. The Man Who Sold the World- Bowie
3. Martha My Dear- The Beatles
4. Time to Pretend- MGMT
5. Purple Bottle- Animal Collective
6. Guess Whose Back?- Eminem
7. Karma's Payment- Modest Mouse
listen and enjoy
and what would mine be? you may ask.
...hrrrmmmmm.
we have
A. Reflections: A Dive Into Ginger Homosexuality
or
B. Annie II - Annie Harder
I just simply can't wait to put my whole life tale on papel. It will be of most great satisfaction.
SO. I've been so poor. but I've always been poor, but this time, I'm the actual one who has no money. I've been working since I was sixteen. Fun jobs, money to spend- but I ended up quitting the local Dairy Queen to early. I just couldn't handle dealing with that fast food joint after having 2 weeks of intense management training. I felt too superior, and I know I shouldn't, but I was like- How can you take this place seriously, it's a fucking DQ? For some people this is their only means of income in any way, so praise Ra for it, but it is not in any way shape or form fit for Raymond. So I just called in about an hour early before my shift and quit. Now, I don't have any paychecks to look forward too, or work to occupy the dead time that is my day. Hmph.
Buuuuut I am working at Fuddrucker's. Like, actually working. I was helping with construction which was way out of my norm, but I put forth my best effort- fuck physical labor tho- and ever since then I have been training the cashiers on the P. O. S. It feels nice to train people and to be a shift leader, because I know I can do it. I need the hours, I need the monthly paycheck- I need the power. Haha. Riiiiiiiiiight.
I have such goals. & I got my dear friend Bryen a job! In case you don't know Bryen is a complete lazy bum who hasn't ever never had a job in his whole (almost) 21 years of life- but with my sauvy skills and my gay touch I got him hired at Fuddies. Yay! I get to work with my best friend. So does that mean something bad gets to happen??? Karma, you whore, decide quickly because I have goals, o boy does this boy have dreams.
I wanna move to San Fransisco (duh fag). I wanna write novels. I wanna write my stand-up. I wanna make people laugh. I wanna be financially ok. I wanna have a man. I wanna cigarette. I want. I want. I want. I need, I need, I need. . . Holy Jesus so many things! I am in no way content with my life, the horrid tale that is my daily existence. I want a complete 180 degree turnaround, keep all the good parts, shave off all those devil hairs, and be complacent.
I called dear my friend Sarah today. No answer. I called my dear friend Amanda today- I had the best conversation, not only was I high as fuck, but I hadn't had this deep of a connection with someone in a long time. Jeepers Creepers do I miss her. The talk was therapeutic. I enjoyed it immensely.
I can ramble on some more, but that weed o'er there looks mighty tastey- and btw, I wanna cigarette.
MUSIC FOR YOUR LIFE TODAY
1. Hey- Pixies
2. The Man Who Sold the World- Bowie
3. Martha My Dear- The Beatles
4. Time to Pretend- MGMT
5. Purple Bottle- Animal Collective
6. Guess Whose Back?- Eminem
7. Karma's Payment- Modest Mouse
listen and enjoy
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