In the 14 years I’ve written in this blog, I’ve noticed something. When I only post positive things, more good things happen.
And now, when I post about the shitpile of things that go wrong, it only seems to manifest more.
I’m listening to the noisy noodles upstairs. Thundercunt is screaming, the kids are screaming, it sounds like they are wearing cinder blocks for shoes, and someone appears to be chopping wood and missing the logs and hitting the floor with a machete.
Meanwhile the world goes on, the madder I get.
I try very hard to be gracious and grateful that, say, the Walmart hacker only stole my $50 gift card that I was saving to buy a little wine fridge. Walmart won’t reimburse me. Fuck you, Sam.
In any event, it’s tough to manifest good things when you’re violently awakened each day by Thundercunt’s verbal assault on humanity. I dream of this woman’s demise. But it seems the only bad things I generate are happening at my own expense.
I used to tell mom not to wish for them to chill or move or die. But to instead wish for wonderful rewards for us.
I just wish they would STFU long enough for my nerves to unshatter so I can follow my own advice.