and the art of war

Having spent the last few years wandering the desert, it has come to my attention that the world has continued to spin even without my direct input or approval. Obviously, I couldn't let this pass without some sort of drastic intervention. Realizing a certain burning Bush wasn't working out as well as I had hoped, so I fired him.

The new guy I found may finally help push things over edge. Between him an a few crafty investments, I think things are looking good in the coming years. All thats left on that end is to sit and watch it percolate.

On to the next topic of the day; disinterest. Yeah, I find it hard to give a crap anymore. In that desert, there's just a bunch of sand and rocks and shit. Other than that, there isn't much to look at, you know? I've got enough boredom to last me quite some time. Quite a few taxpayer dollars have been spent in idle entertainments, usually without any lasting success.

So, here I am again, bored and unmotivated. I can't seem to do the right thing when all I want

is to really do nothing. A laziness bailout would be perfect right now.

An anecdotal example; an artist I "know of" was able to get a grant to explicitly not to create his art. Like a farmer subsidized not to grow his crops, just sit back and soak it in. That is the type of job I'm looking for.

Writing in a timeless nature just isn't in me at the moment. When called upon to give my opinion, even if not asked directly, I usually can add a sting that can be felt through the ages. Unfortunately, my current semi-comatose brain is seemingly stuck in the now. While i've turned off the TV, I continue to suckle the internet's breast, feeding me barbiturate doses of TCP packets. The informational level of my bloodstream is so high...

Fuck it, you don't get it and you don't get me. Go away. I can't stand the way you breath. You waste my time just by living. I'm glad I ran out of space so that I can't tell you how I really feel about you. I know that'll really chap your ass. I'm going back to the desert. Later. Oh, and you fug cats... Lame.

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