Gummie Now & Then

I wish I had any easy answer but I don't. DMT claims to. I'd tell you what that is but there's now Google: you have no excuse. I eat gummy worms every night now. I've gained more weight than ever before in my life. I weigh nearly two hundred pounds. There are people to blame but the choice is my own in the end. I'm the only one who's short of breath sometimes, who's heart skips beats sometimes. I keep eating gummies and I will for at least one more night. Who cares but he (or she) who has nothing but words to give me? Wrap them up, Hallmark has a card for you. You'd think I'd be done with the entertainment room by now but I'm still working on the red paint. I really love the way it looks when it's done but it's a bitch to put on. Five or six coats at least to get it even. Easy enough for the main parts of the wall, but a real pain in the ass for the top that meets the ceiling. I hope to have it done this month but the way I've been going...I wonder if I'll be able to sell this house some day or I will die in it. I'm watching Grizzly Man Diaries now. I got tired of Mad Men and I ran out of The Dog Whisperer. I'm sort of nervous watching something that'll make me want to get out, live out there, be away from houses and computers and people. Fuck, I'd probably like people a lot more if I didn't have to live amongst them. I don't think I'd like to be eaten by a bear though. I wouldn't be terribly famous being the second guy. So what to do with my life. It's just another year. The house is still incomplete. I'm still at the bottom of the food chain. I have fewer friends than before and those social groups I built up for myself gone through the selfishness of others. Sorry, I'm ranting about that again and it doesn't matter. Talking about it won't change anything and people who hurt other people don't do anything about it until it's too late and then they tell themselves and their shrinks that they would have—and have to spend the rest of their lives deluding themselves that they might have but didn't. Sometimes I want a grave just so I can have the gravestone say something like, “You failed me”. It'd be more honest, would say so much more than “loving wife” “loving father” “loving husband”. Besides, I'm not any of those except I was once a father and I try not to remember that because it only brings up bad memories and memories of future possibilities which no one would envy. There are some things I cannot write about here which I want to so badly. Some day I hope to. Probably in twenty or thirty years. Probably never. I am surrounded by animals who are sincere and I give them one hundred and ten. It goes without saying. Get it? Good night. .a