God, I’ve been feeling so much crabbier than usual lately. It was going pretty well up until the Aderall wore off… and a little before that, actually.

I think we’re all just weird lumps of carbon who love that skeezy sort of pleasure. But that’s good… and it’s bad, when we forget to crusade for the just and have it all spiral into a corrupt and broken late-stage capitalism society.

The events of the last two days have told me… if you’re a black person, then why even bother following the rules? You could become a rapist. It’s immoral, of course, but you won’t die. It’s fucked to even think that’s somewhat logical in a world like this.

There was a graduation yesterday. All those people going into a world that sucks and won’t treat them nicely. And there were some black people. I felt actual rage during some of it, which is not what you want. At least my cousin should be okay.

You are supporting injustice even when you’re least expecting it. Purchasing from companies that still use slave labor, and those that push perfectly law-abiding normal people into poverty seemingly just by existing. After hearing that, you might want to start living off the grid. But that’s only a mild exaggeration.

I went to elsewhere in the state today to visit an event for veterans. Oh, how I pity those people… they have no idea that war is a bad thing which can be avoided. They are the kinds of people who look forward to the draft, and want a war to be manufactured (as if there aren’t enough already) and the current generation to be drafted just so they can show some balls. Fuck those people. Many Trump supporters in their midst.

I did the things I do best at the event: Bring in some Crock-Pots full of beans and other pure slop of shit to the table, and then I gambled for cheap. You know these… pull-tabs? Is that hyphenated? I don’t know, but I don’t goddamn care. I was supposed to use a five-dollar bill (NOTE: Write a socialist manifesto on one of these and see if you get arrested at the counter) to buy a Coke, but I just used it for gambling. Pull the tabs while listening to the Yes albums you like for the dozenth time. Yeah, that’s how I do it.

And they had video slot machines there, too. I’m not 21, so I only played them a little bit, but skirting the law like that is still a good idea. Two dollars… that’s good enough for four plays. How come it’s fifty cents and not an amount known to cause addiction? This world lets me down even in regards to the things I don’t care about. But hey, cheap gambling… watch the signs go and stuff. You get a Jack, and an Ace, and a… 12. Payday for Mr. Rabin, please. Everyone would love the music if he wasn’t so anti-Palestine.

All these people… all of them worked to let us down. Oh, how the poor country is broken. They’re all my enemies… scum. Now I really want them to get hemorrhoids.

But hey, living as a misanthrope is pretty crappy. I won’t lie. After that was done, we went to my town’s old home day (where I was practically begging for them to do a “We Love Trump” display… they had a campaign for the GOP senator last year, but she ended up losing). There was a tiger mascot, and I had slush from the damn Kona Ice truck. It’s great, even if I don’t know why there’s still a Tiger Blood flavor in there. Charlie Sheen might as well be dead. Why do we continue to dry hump this shit? I don’t get it… but given an erratic life that included being a 9/11 truther, maybe he’s from the future. All of us are in 1942, but that motherfucker is living in 2017.

So yeah, life’s pretty glum and viciously okay. But I get to start my redemption tour for Calculus next week, and then we go on vacation. That will definitely be the subject of happier times and words.


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