BTRIPP (btripp) wrote,

Oh, gods ...

Well ... it finally happened ... there is a stack of envelopes with checks in them with stamps on them with NO money in any of the accounts to cover them ... NO money coming in ... NO money left at all. Three years of looking for a job and not even getting a half-assed offer. NOTHING. I've applied for so damn many things ... and most of them wouldn't have even paid enough to come close to matching our "burn rate". This sucks. I guess we're going to have to take out a mortgage on the apartment just to have money to LIVE on. Fuck the world. Fuck the damn bastard-assed shit hole of a world that wants to kick you when you're down. Eight years ago I was making a six-figure income ... I go off to try to develop something that I believed in, got totally screwed ... and now I can't even find a shit job paying 1/3 of what I used to be making. If it wasn't for The Girls, I'd be happy to just turn into a "mad bomber" and go blow up some fucking banks or maybe turn psycho terrorist and just LASH OUT and go for maximum body count. But, nooooooooo ... but there is NO "plan B" ... we've been trying to WORK out a "plan B" but NOBODY wants to play. I don't know how we can survive if I have to go back to school to get re-trained in something. Right now I don't want to work for anybody ... I just want to fucking KILL everybody. grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr Maybe I should pray to be hit by a truck tomorrow. At least the family would get money to live on.

Fuck this god-damned shit hole of a world.

                    LONG PAST THE LINE OF PAIN

                    what structure has the day?
                    what purpose
                    lurks beneath
                    the random cruelty
                    the incessant waves
                    of pain and anguish
                    that are its signature
                    its telling mark

                    I see nothing but intent
                    to craft a prison
                    that none escape
                    a place of torture
                    where dreams go wanting
                    and nightmares are the real
                    a dark perversion
                    of what our world should be

                    who is behind this,
                    these cycles of failure
                    this pattern of doom?
                    too many things
                    fall to coincidence
                    to have coincidence
                    be plausible
                    in these days

                    and each new day
                    brings with it depths
                    lower than before
                    fresh horrors
                    which threaten to destroy
                    unseen terrors
                    which suddenly appear
                    and from which we can not flee

                    nothing we do
                    matters now
                    the probability envelope
                    has collapsed
                    as it always does
                    ceding the abyss
                    we just wait the conflagration
                    the searing come to flesh and mind

                             - Brendan Tripp

                    Copyright © 2001 by Brendan Tripp

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