Today, as most days. I rose and showered after 8am then drive for quality gas station coffee at Cumbys. I get mine iced and extra sweet, sugar crunching at the bottom. I also swing by the Portugese bakery for fresh pops and a maladada. I spend my morning hours creating digital art stuff. I am a copy and paste artist who steals images then distorts them into gig flyers for bands. Most bands don't want or use them, I make them anyway. For me, really.. I create stuff thats form didn't exist to help me exist.
I rode my motorcycle to buy pot for my teenager, today. I am completely sober and long believed weed helps some people. Not me of course, of about 5 times I hated it everytime and only surrendered after drunken peer pressure. A few hours of back farm roads twisting from New Bedford to Taunton and back had my arse sore.
A short beach day of a few late afternoon hours after the parking girl leaves the West Island Beach. I park on the concrete pad they installed for the bathroom trailer that gets pulled out before I get there. I keep a folding chair chained to a guardrail as I commute to the beach on two wheels. After a few roadside hotdogs, it's back home.
I fart around with more graphic design using only free software. St nightfall, my eyes watch bikes race in france from earlier in the day. A bit of Texas holdem gets played on my phone but I am fast and loose and go broke quick. My life is simple and cyclical. I hate work so I don't.
Unemployment gets me through patches then poverty sets in deeper until I surrender to fishing. Man do I hate making a living from the sea. I am getting older and more nihilistic, suicidal even; down to my marrow. I have few friends, the ones who exist are just as miserable and fucked as me in this great charade. This cycle has a rythym of insanity that must occur. I am not alone here, and they expect morning coffee, funding and bickering from me. So it's off to bed. Goodnight you fucked up thing called life.