Quiescent

This is what happens when you permit yourself to allow minute external factors to govern your perseverance and your rationale: you become a jobless bum.

It's a well deserved break that i embark upon, but as i sit here, insignificantly collecting dust and draining the scarce resources that line the outer walls of my bank account, i get worried to death. What's next? How many more anvils can paradise throw down?

I have muddled through this blog and it has sputtered out a trail of perturbation that hasn't pleased many and is not intended to, but in someways gives insight into how i've travelled from being a man who wanted to revisit his imperfections because he was turning into a yuppie, and finally into one who has not completely revisited anything, and is no longer a yuppie by means of unemployment. And in this course of time, i believe i deserve to take this time to

rebel.

Not entirely la, i'm not 16 anymore. so i drew myself a tattoo of a rose. For the kid AND the woman in me (for my merry friends and readers, i'm still pertty much straight). And i have also discovered that i can complete the rubik's cube in under three minutes, that emotions truly are never relevant and that dried out cigars that have been at the back of your drawer for the past 7 months taste like burning a roll of newpapers. sure woke my lungs up.


So now, i will gladly present to you... uhm..... i'm out of wit. the pen-drawn rose on my arm.







Fear and Loathing in Joblessness...


where's everyone who's eyes held naive promises that they'll be there for you when you need a human tissue. no where in here. not home.