Chapter 21: You can't have this forever

Erg, what an annoying fucking day.

I just spent an hour or so typing up a rant for Interneta, one I've been eager to do for a while. I wa about halfway through when, perhaps even just on instinct, I hit ctrl+s. I was typing it in Frontpage at the time, as I do most of my Interneta articles, and for some reason, it decided it was going to have an error. Fuck! Motherfucker! You know, when I get ranting, I don't like to get interrupted or else I may never start up again! Shit, I had all these thoughts all intangible in y head, and if I make them solid... ocne they're gone who knows if they can come back again?

Admittedly, it shouldn't be too hard to replicate. I was writing about a CD I was listening to at the time, so theoretically all I need do is listen to the CD again and get inspired to re-write what I had. But it's motivation, becuase hell, I put in the time, I sat and listened... I can't just go back and say, "well, let's start over." No, it's more like, "Well, let's move on... and if I feel like it, I'll go back to it." and since I do most certainly want this rant up there for the near future, then shit man, it'll probably happen. But I'm gonna go to bed tonight feeling like half-a-fuck. and Frontpage very rarely fgives me that, thus adding to my dissatisfaction. One of those freak fuckin' things.

Today was a kind of a shitty day in general, not to be too pessimistic. I set out for comics. It started raining, albeit not all that badly or for all that long. But by the time it was over, suddenly, fumes had carried up into the air to carry irritants aplenty into my fucking sinuses... allergies. Seemingly, the entire world's population decided today was the day to mow one's lawn, and thus, the atmosphere is now about 90% grass clippings. So yeah, for a few hours today, it sucked to be me. I felt backward. I was knocked loopy, sneezing my fuckin' brains out, snorting left and right, eyes sealed shut by their own itchy red irritation, head clogged by mucuous... finally, I relented and bought some Reactine to save my soul. That stuff is the messiah's tit-milk as far as I'm concerned. Yes, I had to invent a new down-home expression to describe how I felt after taking an allergy pill. In retrospect, maybe they shouldn't have taken me off the allergy shots all those years ago, but what's done, it's done.

Tomorrow, I'll do something. I think my psyche is telling me it's time to shake it out and get in gear, asshole. Yes, according to my very own psyche, I'm an asshole... quite harsh indeed.

Our worlds are rapidly shrinking, and us along with them.

Keep on rockin'
-Scott