Some of this has been posted. But never with an attempted real edit. I Don’t know what to do with this material anymore, no book waiting for it, so Here it is in its full. I was looking to apply for jobs that I could use my degree with, such as marketing or analyzing data, going back to the cube, did this today. Thinking I could quit writing for a while and move to some city. My girl is getting antsy always talking about money. I don’t give a shit about money, and sometimes I even forget that it exists. She doesn’t want to move. I hate this town. Money Money Money and the air conditioned madness still exists. Money, and I lost that some time go, and these thoughts about going back to retail or customer service or human resources made me think of nothing but boredom. I guess I should start sending stuff out for publication, looking for agents, whatever, but I don’t even want to do that. I will probably give it the ol polish try as they say, but really I just want to write nice stuff, but society makes me grumpy. And so I will write until I die it looks like, and I will only move back to the city when someone is paying me to write. I cant starve again and try to act like i give a shit about the scene man, the scene. I need a place where I can watch society, high up there like a photographer, and write in peace. then I will roll more so than now and it will be beautiful. So hey, keep on keeping on. ha. There probably will be a couple errors down below. Deal with it. It’s free. Right now, I cant move. Phone ring. Alright what now. Be there. Soon. I have to shave. Fuck.