Apr 23, 2008 13:47
Typing, typing, typing. Absent minded, blank stared, automatic typing.
My fingers are frozen, it is hard to control them. It's like typing drunk. No, wait, typing drunk is easier.
I'm not sure to do with myself. Not just at the moment, but in general. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel about that. Everyone has different ideas for me, but I don't want anyone else's ideas. I am unmotivated, and it scares those around me. Why? I do not know. But I don't feel like becoming a part of the machine. Why should I have to? Who says I have to work to survive? Fuck You, that's who!
That's right, I'd rather smoke a joint than piss in a cup and flip burgers. How are either of them any less productive? The only upside I could see to food service is contaminating the food. Sick, right? Maybe I shouldn't be allowed in kitchens anymore. Yeah, I'm a spoon licker. :)
I'm way too busy enjoying the ups and downs.
Hey, you think somebody will pay me to play video games? That, I'll do. Finally, the thing I do the most will be considered "productive". Take that, you such-and-such dirty filthy rotten bandit! I COMMAND YOU TO TAKE IT! IN THE ASS!
Sorry, but it's hard to take all of this seriously. Lighten up.
fuck you,
dingleberry