chronicles for the clinicly insane
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2003-07-28 04:03:38 (UTC)

for in the past... there it is where we shall find our own undoings`

well hidy ho sports fabs, just another great fucking day
here in self loathing pscyshophrenic land. You know the
kind of day that makes you understand why some relatively
well off white guys just lose it sometimes and go on a
miniacal killing spree. You know the good ones. the news
reports say he just was a regular guy who may have had a
turn for the worst (usually in the stock market) and just
out of the blue ends up killing a dozen or so co-workers
and then taking his own life with some form of high powered
assault rifle. Yeah something like that

At any rate. things have been going just dandy, once again
I have managed to idiotically corner myself on some
chemical matter or another. My face hurts like hell
because of the wisdom teeth I had rececntly torn from my
jaws, and oh yes my mother is once again back in Intensive
car for almost a week now from surgical complications.

How does that sound to you, my adoring and somewhat non-
exsistent audience? Oh thats right, if you dont exist the
powers of commnication in most manners and varieties tend
to evade you. What's that you say, Im thinking too much.
I try not to think of it like that. The way I see it, the
rest of you fuckers dont think enough.

A shining example was seen by yours truly today as I paid
for the petrolium products that my aunt was purchasing on
our trip home from todays visit to the traumaintensive
care unit at my friendly neighborhood hospital. A
relativly young man walks into the gas station and inquires
what varieties of single blunt cigars are for sale. I was
the only one in the store besides him and the young female
clerk. Needless to say there was no questioning what the
purpose of the cigars was. but when givin the arogant smirk
of the cashier the man seemed surprised if not a little
hurt by her response to his purchasing request.
What the hell did he think, or perhaps his love for the
jolly green combustable inhibriant had finally clouded his
thought beyond reason. At that point in my prolonged stay
inside the gas staion due to my aunts inability to operate
a gas pump, ( she is not the most mechanicaly inclined of
sorts) I had built a decent little relationship with the
young (older than I but still young by comparison) clerk
who was rather distraought over the lack of help she had
(the second cashier had yet to arrive for their shift
apparently). Then she said the most startling thing to me.

"dont grow up to be like them" she advised (the cannabis
minded youth's companion had shown up wondering at the
amount of time it had taken thus far for the purchase of
theyre thc medium for the evening)"they're wasting their
lives". although not an abnormal thing to say to your
average drug fee teenager whom you seem to harbor false
care for in the short time you have met, why in hell would
you even bother trying to explain the evils of marijuana to
a kid with unkempt hair, dirty black shorts and wearing a
dark side of the moon t-shirt?

I swear to god, as soon as I think Ive found someone who is
worth a damn in this world they turn out to be just as much
of a god damn idiot as the next shmuck walking down the

well until the next time I try to reason wiht this damnable

yours truly in trust and through storm