I think the Longmont DMV may be built on ancient indian burial ground. There's this time-0-Dilating effect caused by sitting there in that light little room, pretending nothing else has ever been going on except the wait, and trying not to freak out out of sheer boredom and collective tension. I need a body massage.
yeah and if we build smaller cars, it will force some people to lose mass.
in a country where so many have suffered, and suffered under the cult of suffering quietly, and yet
so many have access to the global forums, we argue about the petty shit. Where does the pain buck stop? with the consumer, if they know restraint.
Even Jesus kicked a few bankers in the face when he wandered in that day and found them there. I imagine he took apart their tables with a quickness. That's the best jesus scene in the whole play. blood and teeth and splintered table legs dripping blood and gore. Of course I have the Tarantino version where he wears the Guy Fawkes mask. A bit of the dude flipping out would be nice. Humanize the character. I think even Mel Gibson skipped that bit. It's like this little sliver of his shadow, and dude goes to hell and back later, it would have been nice to see that bit too. My imagination has hell looking like super mario 1-2.
I don't know where to start, whether it's the real thing that has been gnawing at me, or if I should just keep joking.
I just want to know why Derrick Jones gets to blow off my suicide intervention after I was fired for not being happy from same school, and then I get eye rolls whenever I want to talk about it. I just hear "wah=wah" and "that white boy's got a problem".
Its frustrating when talk therapy helps and no one wants to communicate unless you're pressing the fun button.
Kinda limits the conversation there starbucks.
Although it does indicate a larger phenomena which would explain the way Ellen De Money, the countess de money, slapped my ass by way of introduction and then tried to lecture me every time I saw her after that. The lectures were her having to do something not fun, and expecting who knows what so doing it awkwardly, and her slap on my ass was a crude attempt to find a fun button that works. In either case, it was awkward and not engaging in any way that I would try to repeat. I'm not an ass-slapper.
My problem has never been an inability to get laid, it's been more a lack of awareness that I had any right to want or need anything other than more work.
Ten years driving taxi, and I just got a learners permit for colorado, and I'm not even sure I should have it.
I need to talk to a doctor, or an adult, whichever comes first.
its as if there's a predetermined protocol for getting listened to, and it's built to exclude me somehow. financially, to be sure. I stopped at three places trying to buy food and getting more and more pissed on my way out of the DMV. Missed banking hours too. But no card no cash no bueno. Cheques are blase'.
I don't have proper ID anyway, apparently.
No comments:
Post a Comment