At the same time, the world is as cold as a geologic Ice Age and optimism on ever getting to the Sanctuary is fading fast. Judging by everything I see, there's little chance anyone else will get there either but there's no consolation in that.
Paul Delph is sitting on my shoulder telling me I'm a pussy if I don't finish "The Sanctuary Song" and the passion is there but the corpus is weak. He's right, tho: I am a pussy if I don't finish it.
He was dying of AIDS and it was near the end when he gave one of the most bad-ass shows I ever saw in my life. Off-stage, he needed friends to help him stand. That's the power of love. I have more respect for that man than I will ever hold for some hateful gun-toting dipshit.
Sick, broke, and hated is not an excuse to fail. Likely no-one will pay any attention to it but that isn't sufficient excuse to fail either.
Ah, just to make it perfect, a notification popped up to advise tomorrow is Bibi Ballinger / Burke birthday. Who knows what satanic source sent that through and I do hope she has a good birthday, somewhere far, far away from here. She didn't lift a finger when my kit was stolen in Dallas and was instrumental in fostering the belief in others that it never happened so no-one ever did a thing about it.
No more time to waste on that. The exercise just now has been to get a glass of water into me. Need to work up enough strength to get some protein supplement, some camel-piss Gatorade for electrolytes, and bread. There's an orange kind of Gatorade as well but I think they make that by squeezing the bodies of dead fairies. Ah well, as categorically awful as they are, they still aren't as bad as an energy drink.
Energy drinks are NOT in the program. I sipped one once just to find what they taste like and it was so horrendously sweet I could hardly swallow it. Caffeine and sugar are not any kind of solution for the situation now.
And all of this is a back-handed apology for lack of productivity. Back to lie down some more and we'll see how things look on the next bounce.
Paul Delph is sitting on my shoulder telling me I'm a pussy if I don't finish "The Sanctuary Song" and the passion is there but the corpus is weak. He's right, tho: I am a pussy if I don't finish it.
He was dying of AIDS and it was near the end when he gave one of the most bad-ass shows I ever saw in my life. Off-stage, he needed friends to help him stand. That's the power of love. I have more respect for that man than I will ever hold for some hateful gun-toting dipshit.
Sick, broke, and hated is not an excuse to fail. Likely no-one will pay any attention to it but that isn't sufficient excuse to fail either.
Ah, just to make it perfect, a notification popped up to advise tomorrow is Bibi Ballinger / Burke birthday. Who knows what satanic source sent that through and I do hope she has a good birthday, somewhere far, far away from here. She didn't lift a finger when my kit was stolen in Dallas and was instrumental in fostering the belief in others that it never happened so no-one ever did a thing about it.
No more time to waste on that. The exercise just now has been to get a glass of water into me. Need to work up enough strength to get some protein supplement, some camel-piss Gatorade for electrolytes, and bread. There's an orange kind of Gatorade as well but I think they make that by squeezing the bodies of dead fairies. Ah well, as categorically awful as they are, they still aren't as bad as an energy drink.
Energy drinks are NOT in the program. I sipped one once just to find what they taste like and it was so horrendously sweet I could hardly swallow it. Caffeine and sugar are not any kind of solution for the situation now.
And all of this is a back-handed apology for lack of productivity. Back to lie down some more and we'll see how things look on the next bounce.
No comments:
Post a Comment