Why do I waste time doing things I particularly do not like doing? I have squandered four months of my life setting up an apartment that was granted almost free and all I can think is: So what?
I exist in paranoid fear of long, dark nights and sun blasted days of waiting.
Most of my money has been for rent and buying furniture - no socializing, drinking, craziness. I sit in my contemperarily furnished tomb and I wait for the next check to buy something.
My body has started to soften - flabby, jiggly blobs of time wasting flesh forming around my abdomen. Memories are distant, fuzzy halucinations in my numbed brain. I see no one - talk with no one. My money spent on a life of comfort and luxury. Alone.
This is fucking worse than when I was on the road!!
