I know I'm losing my touch when my lectures are boring to me. I'm out of my element. Oh, I wish I were in the Mexican desert fighting off scorpions and fixing the transmission with a ceral box. Now that would be good video. But I have to show myself in good and bad lights. This isn't a greatest hits only cd. You get the B sides and the cast off essays. True, I have turned several essays into drafts to spare you from my insanity and hoarded resentments but mostly I publish unedited stuff with some polished gems.
The time is too short when you are near the end and too long sitting in Home Room waiting for the clock to move. Strange. I'll be moving back into the van unless it is stolen from the streets of Saint Louis. I'm having real doubts about living in Texas in the van after a terrible premonition that I will be arrested and falsely accused of some crime. "Pin it on the Hippie" they will say. It's been done before and I'm afraid that's where I'll end up. Of course the alternative is to live in a boarding house and waste my wage slave paycheck on the utilities I could get for free at a McDonalds bathroom. I'll play it by ear because right now Toyota is hiring people left and right for their San Antonio factory. That's good money and in 20 years I could make enough money to get a mesh hernia patch!
Really, I'm in a funk because I'm not travelling and my van is up for grabs by anyone with a pocket knife. That kills me so as soon as I paint this last room and put the dog to sleep I'm driving to the country to cook some meth and make some money.
