Karmamonkey.

Attaining some sort of employment I got - I have no idea why it has eluded me for so long a time. I walk through the masses in Tijuana Centro shuffling along those time worn blackened sidewalks and I receive hostile glances sniffs of disdain heads turn the other way - it's like those nacos can tell when I am broke. Fuck 'em all - squares on both sides.

I have crippling depressions. I wonder how I can feel this bad and live. Very few people are ever in contact with that area of human despair. I've survived by confronting it. I let it wash over me.

It is time to get offa my rusty dusty and handle my business - I have spoken with a fellow hobo and he had hired the attorneys firm Bender & Bender to handle his SSI claim. Said they are the best of the best - expensive to say the least but the wait is a fraction of time it usually takes. There's a thought - living off of $1000 more or less in another country - sounds real tasty.

Romance department is in full swing - strained - but good things come to those who wait, reet?

Had to be curt with one of the Rentboys - Diego is his name and a mooch to the bone. Followed me for two blocks for one dollar in which he continually pressured. Finally, I stopped in my tracks and spat, "Diego, you are by far the most annoying prostituto in the Plaza! You got nothing I want - scattah!"

"But, I'm hungry." He said hurt.

"That's the way I like to see you." I lost myself in the midday rush. I stopped to give a few pesos to a payaso performing with his little son - funny act.

I cannot shake my feeling of apartness from the rest of the human race. Enter the American tourist. He thinks of himself as a good guy but when he looks in the mirror to shave he had to admit that "Well other people are different from me and I don't really like them." This makes him feel guilt towards other people.

Still suffering from this hellish hobo-virus. I lay here blasting some 30 Seconds to Mars and I wanted to relax - but the retard of a vecino of mine is blaring his television seeping through the walls. Why are Mexicans like that? Televisions, radios, cellphones - they must insist on setting it to maximum volume with no concern or respect of those around them. Fucking third worlders.

Perhaps I can climb up on the roof and cut his power - nah, to much trouble for the likes of him. I just put in my earplugs and go to sleep.