Another Day, Appetite for Distraction, bioshock infinite, blog, blogger, blogging, diary, Dirty Wars, Fiction, ice cream, Inside Job, journal, Leo Tolstoy, nonfiction, prose, The Divide, writer, writing
He wakes up. Dirty Wars Inside Job The Divide. These the things do not make for a happy-go-lucky weekend. bioshock infinite with it’s attempts at depth infinite shallows. Votes in India enormous democracy. Hidden poverty rampant corruption suicide on a hill. A house explodes after gunshot is heard. The girls are freed into the arms of Islam. Parents are doubtful. Leo Tolstoy imparts advice about art and religion. He eats an ice cream. He is getting fat. He eats a cookie. He is getting fat. He eats a lunchable. He is fat and sad. He drinks a coffee and it makes him feel better for a little while. He drinks a capri sun. He eats another ice cream. Will this torment never end? It is hot outside. Like an oven. Like an oven of pain. A painful oven. Not that hot. He goes inside and the air conditioning is welcoming. Drones fly over head. The Epic of Gilgamesh is mentioned. He waits to be targeted but he is not a high value target and he is not carrying a cell phone and he eats another ice cream. He reads Dollarocracy and feels like he needs a wire brush and hose down. American political financing is a giant fetid worm sliding and pulsing it’s way across the country as it feeds in at one hole and spews gelatinous Excreta out of the other swelling it’s swollen body expanding as it goes. It is hot wet and dark outside. It is night. It has rained. A context free fight been two relative by marriage in a lift spreads across the internet and diminishes everyone. He writes and writes and writes. He watches Veep. It is funny. He watches Late Night starring Jimmy Fallon. It is funny. Neil Young is soft spoken and his voice trembles as he sings. He goes to sleep.