I Don’t Write

I haven't written anything in long time. I have pretty much just shut down completely and turned myself into a machine. A machine that prints money. I pretty much pwn at my job. I'm still sorting out the whole "saving the house" thing - had a few close calls. I'm settling my debts. I've knocked down a lot of it... though there's still a mountain to go. At least I'm not just going bankrupt and washing my hands of it all... (yet).

Part of the reason I don't write anymore is that nobody reads it. I started a "blog" out there with my own domain and whatnot and posted nothing pretty much. Just a plan to do something eventually. I'll get around to it.

I still spend plenty of time spinning my wheels. I still spend plenty of time in a vegetative state. I still watch television. It's all I can do to try to keep my mood from fluctuating. Steady as she goes.

My year of celibacy was followed by a year of constant and persistent sex. My year of downward spiral into the lowest abyss of my life was followed by the most productive year of my life - if you count money as producing something. It's a unit of measure anyway.

I miss having people pay attention to me. I miss having something interesting to say. I miss it. I actually miss myspace. I would delete my Facebook if it didn't keep guilting me into keeping my account.

I recently posted photos from my parents' wedding in 1961. Nobody noticed. I thought they were lovely.

Anyway, since nobody can see this, I'm going to just post this without any pants on.

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