Poverty sucks.
Kinda makes me think of that dumbass poster from the 70's (or was it the 80's) of that guy sitting on the hood of a Rolls' with a glass of champagne.
(Is it just me or did everyone else fail to find the humor in that image?)
I'm tired of ridiculous crap interfering with my ability to create and survive.
Day to day, it always seems like some kind of something gets in the way of making money and meanwhile the bills just keep multiplying into pissy little demons... And those fuckers bite hard.
They chew at my dreams, torture my creativeness and devour any hope of getting out of this dark cloud called "New Bedford" any time soon.
I don't dig the demons, as much as they certainly seem to dig me.
They really have nothing to gain... nothing, really.
They just multiply, wanting more and more money, never seeming to get enough of it, but somehow managing to thrive solely on the pain they inflict on me.
What hideous little fuckers they are!
How dare anyone feed off the suffering?!
And I am certainly one of them.
ok... all metaphors aside...
Sure, I could stop creating bills, but of course I would starve or freeze to death, and DSS would certainly find me to be an unfit mother. So I personally create the demons while hoping that a golden ticket would appear and save the day.
This has proven yet to be unlikely.
So countless hours are spent in the midst of doing everything else whilst attempting to scheme up yet another way to get ahead. I'll usually manage to find an idea that surely seems like yet another "no-fail idea", only to find it to be a sure-fire flop with more money lost.
Key West was perfect. Everywhere I looked I saw dollar signs. Well, at least 2/3's of the year. The other 1/3 of it would be absolute poverty. "But ooooooooh... if I could just bust ass and be smart during the good months, I'd be golden for play time during the lulls!"
I wonder if it would've worked out.
New England certainly seems to have potential, and that hope is what keeps me dreaming, but on days like these in times like this, it feels like that hope is waning.
Maybe it's the cloud cover of that approaching Nor'easter.
Maybe it's the withering leaves on the autumn trees.
Maybe it's "depression"?
Who-the-fuck knows.
But all of it has got to give, and fast!
I'm getting older now.
"42"... damn.
Thinking back, I remember when my mother was 42. At least I think I remember her once telling me she was "42", but I think she was lying. She's been lying about her age since I was 5. But either way, she's ALWAYS maintained. So much so that she's been able to support my sorry-ass through the years when my missions fail. And they usually do.
No... I'm not putting that vibe out for the Universe to gobble up and act on. That's all been in the past.
Today is now, and HOPEFULLY (there's that word again... "hope") it will all change soon.
I've been wishing for it to do so for decades. I've been putting that out there for as long as I can remember. So I'm thinking that the time is coming soon. It's just around the corner, but when will "Solid and Lasting Opportunity" turn and show it's sweet face?
"Thinking makes it's so", said Shakespeare. And I think I repeat his words almost daily.
Am I thinking against it as I write this?
All of my life's teachers and the lessons have taught me as much, and my heart and soul firmly believe in this, and yet I write, and bitch.
I should be working on something right now, but instead I'm laid up because of stupid antibiotics that are making me sick due to kidney stones and a vicious infection.
ugh.... it will pass. (no pun intended)
So instead, I'm online dreaming and scheming, like always, trying to find suppliers for my next semi-amazing idea. And the suck-thing is, they want money too. Money that I simply do not have. Money that I need to feed those aforementioned demons. Thank gawd that I don't have any credit cards... Gawd knows I'd be resurrecting Beelzebub, the mother-fucker of all demons, in attempt to somehow make good.
A vicious and seemingly unending circle.
So I need to turn myself back into the amazing prop-tart that I once was to finagle something from nothing in order to fund this trip out of Hell.
"what can I use that's laying around the house to make something that everyone must-have?! Something so appealing that people would swoon and cash in cans just to buy it from me!"
...I got nothin'.
Maybe I should go back to sleep and rest all of this off, but that would seem like a symptom of depression to me and I ain't about to go there! Nuh-UH!
But then again, I AM sick, after all.
Well, maybe just for a little bit.
And then maybe, just maybe, I might dream of the "thneed" (the thing that everybody needs) that I need to manifest to save my little world's ass.
...It's kind of a cute little ass and I think highly worth the rescue.
<3
