Im sitting here at the icehouse, next to Kiddie Park http://www.kiddiepark.com Im fixing to go to work. Im not depressed, or tired, or anything. Even so, I hate this fucking place, and I hate this stupid routine. I need to be fabulously rich, like I used to be. I used to wake up whenever, first thing Id do is drink a Dr. Pepper, then I would bolt down on some crank and coke, then Id go to a shopping mall or store, and Id buy something, anything, EVERYTHING! It didnt matter if I needed it or not. Just the act of spending money was all the nourishment I needed.
Now, besides having to work, which is a disaster in itself, I spend my time trying to impress myself by scribbling in a little notebook to pass the time. Youve seen winos staggering in the streets, muttering to themselves, or talking to cars? Well, thats me, except I babble into a notebook.
Im trying desperately to impress myself and the world, hoping against all odds that some of my freebee wasted life will somehow turn into cold cash, so that someday, once again, Ill be rich. And Ill wake up anytime I feel like it, and Ill take lots and lots of drugs, anytime I want, and Ill go shopping in a new car, and buy lots of junk I dont even need. Someday.
But today, I got to go to work. Now. Shit! Fuck luck, I need money! Lots of it. Gimme money! Money!Gimme money! Money!