Skumped again!

Perhaps one plus of the entire shitty day was HRPs choice of film over dinner: The Snake Pit. While it's become a favourite film, the way things have been here lately, I can't help but enjoy a film about an insane asylum. Sometimes I start to wonder where I'll land in the end.



Tonight was supposed to be a chance for some night driving, but her royal pain the mega bitch has reneged yet again. I can't help but remember, that my mothers every fibre of being, extends little further than what it takes to ensure that she can continue to sleep, eat, and shit. The rest of the world can generally rot as far as she is concerned. That's my mother in a nut shell.


Sometimes I wish I could erase enough of my soul, to just meet things with the decisive violence that they deserve. It's the only thing some people can comprehend. I may consider myself to be selfish from surviving this shit hole, but at least I fucking care about people. That's more than some can prove. What the fuck do I have to do, make like a five year old and sit on the floor banging a wooden spoon on a metal pot until she gets served an eviction notice by the land lord? At least it would make a statement that can't be ignored. More likely she would have me arrested lol.

Selfish or just incapable of caring, she is still a road block that is not be easily dislodged. Her "parole" as it were in this matter of getting my license, runs out soon: then the war of foot travel goes another inning.  For the lack I have of weapons in dealing with this matter, I can't help but think, that this is what I get for learning to physically defend the fucktards that I'm related to, instead of studying politics and the like. If I was dying in the middle of the street, you could bank on my own flesh and blood being the last fucks to offer aid, let along call a paramedic.


One of my favourite artists did a song a couple years back, about a relationship that ended as "Just another picture to burn". I can't help but wonder, if I make it through another twenty years on this rock they call earth, if I'll look back on the first twenty as just a set of memories to burn. There's scarcely anything to look back on positively, except an example of what kinds of person that I can't stand to ever become. Yeah, I think that will be the fate of it all: burn it.