(no subject)
so it doesn't look like we're getting either of those houses.
but for now there are a few more houses and some lofts we're looking at.
one is a loft just a few blocks from school that also has storefront retail space
(equals badass, amazing proximity, and a possible job on the side? who knows...)
another is an old church in grant park that has been turned into a loft... a church! ha!
but life sucks right now... all i do is deal with family shit, look for houses, and work work work.
i cannot wait until i have a finalized, new place to live.
at least i have money and amazing friends.
unlike the character in the story i am writing, the future looks so good to me.
Towel dry. Quick shave. A cut or two, but they don’t hurt anymore. It’s all part of the routine. Gotta look good. Good and clean cut. Just like everyone else. That’s the way you succeed. The purpose of life is success. And success is being just like everyone else - only with more money. And maybe a few people you don’t really like have heard your name and seen your fancy car (same damn place to go every day). And some woman with a sleek, polyethylene body and a smile that never quite matches the eyes gives you a quick fuck every couple of nights and she gets half your money (it isn’t prostitution… she gets the money, but you’re married). Trophy wife. Useless, excessive income. Bigger TV (same worthless shit on it every night). You’re the talk of the company, the neighborhood envy. By sixty you’ll retire in a big, empty home. The wife’ll be a sagging heap of plastic and over-tanned skin - compost, mannequin, no personality. Quiet nights. She’s got a man on the side. Rely on your friends: plasma TV, imported beers, top-shelf liquor and fancy cigarettes. You’ve got the American dream. Living well. Living hell. I got a few nicks shaving today, but they don’t hurt. Tomorrow’s the only thing that hurts.