Each Word is a Bullet

     Okay, I am here.  I am still trying to wake up.  I feel groggy.  I did do some drinking last night.  I did my clone wars thing when I got home, and I did it again this morning, and now I am at the cafe with the lap top.  It is my power station of writing, because each word is a bullet into your brain.
     I just hung out Marco.  He is a great friend.  He is talented and really funny.  He plays guitar and is my mortal enemy in Magic The Gathering every Sunday.
     Anyway, we had a good war last night.
     The other guy we play the game with is a person who wishes to remain anonymous, so I don't talk about him much, though I would like to.  He is really funny, too.
     We all like Monty Python and Magic, so it is all good times.
     Meanwhile, I have to figure out what to do with my life.  I also need a way to survive.  I need to figure this out very soon.  My time is running out.
     I would like to be an artist, and I can do that right now by standing outside and trying to sell art.  It gets cold out there after a while, and there is no bathroom around, and my coffee runs out pretty fast.  I was thinking, though that I could set up outside the studio building, and give that a try again.  It might be fun.  Even to be out there for an hour a day might be good.

     I am sitting in a new place today.  Thank god I have an extension cord.  It allows me to sit anywhere in this front room.  It is nice to have options.
     I can see people walk in through the front door.  It is nice whenever a nice lady walks in and brightens up the room.
     I am also in a position where people can glance and look at what I am doing.  It is annoying that people do that.  They never say anything, but I can feel that they glance, and make a judgment about me and my work, and toss me off and put me into their discard pile, and are done with me.  It is never enough to impress them.  Only over time do people see all the work I have done, and then all I get is a 'wtf'?  People suck sometimes, you know.

     Anyway, Marco took off.  We had our conversation.  He has things to do, and so do I.

     I am still trying to wake up.  It just isn't happening yet.

     I am still waiting for my money from the bank.  I need it asap.  In the meantime, I have to get my s*** together, and that won't be easy.

     I did meet a couple from Chile last night.  They wanted to talk about Karl Marx, and that is not my area of expertise.  I told them that I need to read up on him, yet they wanted to keep talking about him.  Anyway, I got a gin and tonic out of the deal.
     As promised, I will look up Karl Marx today, and inform myself a little more about him.  It's been a while since his name has come up, except with The Marx Brothers.

     Anyway, it is a good day, and the sun is coming out.

     I wrote my piece for my 'Clone Wars Adventures' blog, but I will have to go over it when my head is more clear.
     I am a mess today.  I did some drinking last night, and I am going to do some drinking today.  You see, I found a half bottle of Schmirnoff vodka and a brand new container of cranberry juice, so it is time for vodka crans today.  Might as well, it is Christmas, the most depressing, tear-soaked mushy time of the year.

     The people from Chile also talked about....well..the guy was into The Pittsburgh Steelers, but the girl was more astute.  It all started when I drew a napkin drawing of them.  Things that we talked about included ...100 Years of Solitude, Charles Bukowski, Freedom of Speech, Why 'Howl' is important ( The football guy didn't get it at all...he was a bonehead about literature ), Edgar Allen Poe, politics...The conversation kind of became a jumbled mess because of the booze, but it was pretty fun.

     I watched the football fans in the bar last night, and I listened to them talk...and I really want no part of it.  All of their male bonding, bro-speak, slaps on the back...for what?  A freakin' football game?  For that?  Really?  You are going to be a bonehead and sacrifice your intellect so you can bond with guys and drink beer?

     So, it is war.

     People are brain washed and programmed.

     I am starting to realize that each word I write is a bullet into your brain.
     I have lots of guns and ammo that I will shoot with, too.
     I have an armory filled, not with real ammunition, but with books.

     Anyway...