Just fucking do it already
Came close to a coherent string of thoughts today.
No cigar. But getting there.
That flaming fucktard who’s about to desecrate me favorite city and the democratic republic in general (and bigly) is going to get us all killed. I am sure of it.
I figure why worry about (not) saving for retirement? Spend it. Buy booze. Make these agonizing days pass quickly. Fuck him and fuck it all. Let it all burn.
I also (initially) figured, why diet? Not like I’m getting out of my 40s if fuckface gets us nuked. Eat the goddamned chocolate. All of it.
But if this is all there is, it isn’t enough. It never was. But the whole deadline concept really kicked in today.
And nothing brings out my creativity like the clock running out.
But I realized something.
My whole life, my appearance has been present and accounted for in my head. Since I got burned so badly at age 10 and every day after.
I went the wrong way for a long time. Let everything go rather than making the rest better.
Figured I’d just make myself smarter. But idiocracy is at our doorstep. I always said the student loan company could never suck the knowledge out of my brain. But the nazis and russkies sure will.
In any event, what if thinking about appearance were no longer a thing? How to eliminate it?
Fix it.
Wonder if that’s how I need to tackle all my problems. Less thinky, more fixy.
I hate fixing problems because I just get a new set. But I’m really ready to part ways with the old ones.
Anyway. Still thinking. Until I stop and just fucking do something already.
Just fucking do it already. Nike ain’t got nothin’ on me.