I’m a Human Being God Damn It! MY LIFE HAS VALUE! [Network-76]

•May 18, 2011 • 1 Comment

Sometimes this body can’t take the stress of it all. The many and various aches, pains, and twinges all slowly slide to the surface of the conscious, pushing their way past the carefully thought up topics and tangents to hover somewhere towards the front, not quite at the window, but complaining loud enough that the deaf man at the back of the line can hear them. Still, once the mind accepts that the pain is there, it simply ignores it like some humbum that has asked for change one time too many and made a show of it after being rejected. Like the bum, the pain fades away, off in search of easier marks, or biding its time, waiting until the perfect moment.

I often find myself unhappy with the amount of writing I put out when I’m in this state. One, because I don’t generally enjoy being exhausted, sober, aware of my inner organs, and maddeningly awake mentally. Physically, the body responds like an old pick-up with no power steering, the gears out of sync and the engine running hot. It’ll get you there, but it’ll be one shitty ride. I suppose being in this state does help in one way. I can focus my thoughts much better than if I were well rested. This, I suppose, is probably some medical condition that will inevitably end in my ‘need’ for some medication that they have specifically for this. I’ll opt for the ability to think, and the opportunity to avoid yet another substance I can get addicted to. As if nicotine isn’t enough…

Lately there’s been some troubling moments in the Land of the Law. Apparently the Right to say ‘NO’ to (illegal) unwarranted entry and search has been VOTED against by a group of people that I’m sure have never in their lives had to worry about a group of trigger happy, testosterone freebasing, S.W.A.T team members bursting into your house if an officer “Smells marijuana smoke, or hears sounds that suggest the imbibing of which is going on”. Now, call me a paranoid bastard, but DIDN’T I FUCKING WARN YOU ALL? DIDN’T 1984?! Haven’t you been told from everyone with half a brain it was coming? Well now is the fucking time to wake the hell up and DO something before it’s too late. Hell it may already be too late. And then what? What are you going to do when they can burst in, any god damn time they wish, whopping and bopping anyone who so much as questions their Rights to do such a thing.

Well, the first people to blame would be YOURSELVES. Don’t you realize that the people you put in office have done this. The people you have hired to PROTECT you, have done this. BUT YOU… YOU have given them the ability and fucking PERMISSION to do so… And god damn it I’d shove my foot, after stepping in as much shit as I could, down your fucking throat if I found you’d voted for this shit. This is NOT acceptable by any standards. You think just because you live in one of your cookie cutter neighborhoods, with the Housing Association telling you how high your flag pole can be, or when it’s appropriate to water your damn lawn.

It sickens me. While I am indeed proud and happy that I am an American, if THIS is what this means, then kick me right the fuck out. I’ll go to Canada. I don’t want to BE the soon the be upper-upper-Lower Class. I WANT TO BE WHO AND WHAT THE FUCK I AM. Your god, sent us to DESTROY. So, in my reckoning of everything, it’s about fucking time to RISE UP, and take back the country that is going down the shitter faster than the Titanic on an Obese Couple’s Cruise. Perhaps it’s me… Maybe I really AM the one who’s wrong. If so, may whatever gods that be, Strike you down. Because I plan to stick around and at least be a thorn in the side of The Powers That DECIDE.

Can’t you hear it? That’s the sound of the American Dream, pissing itself in its sleep. It’s thrashing around on it’s plastic sheet and will wake up shortly, smelling strongly of urine and last night’s pints, completely hung over, wishing that it didn’t have to dream for itself any longer. Can it really be that hard to have everyone WANT and WORK for a goal together? Why must we split, and segregate, and isolate ourselves and each other? What would being a UNITED country, no… WORLD harm? Besides of course, the wallets of those who REALLY know what’s going on? Besides those who play the geo-politcal game like it’s a game of fucking Connect Four, and have had at least three and a half turns more than you do before you start? Would it harm US? Would it harm the WORLD? No. It would bring us together. But no…. They can’t have that. They cannot allow us to truly mobilize.

Why do you think that there’s ‘Kill-Switches’ on many apps and programs and cell phones? Why do you suppose that there’s so many unconstitutional laws on the books? Why do you suppose they are ass-raping the words and wisdom of our forefathers without so much as a reach around? I’ll tell you. Profit. You are nothing more than a number. Hell, look at your social security card. The nine digits that you see before you tell ALL they really want to know about you. All they want are YOUR numbers boosting THEIR numbers, with no regard to the fact that the numbers are human lives. All they ever wanted from you was your finger prints, your number, and your money. That’s all. A small price to pay, right?

I’ll avoid the obvious answer for that. Because let’s face it, once you’re in, you’re in for fucking Life. That means, every time a police officer runs your ID, he sees more about you than you even know about yourself. When you go to do anything, you are THERE. And that’s wrong. Many of the people I see going to jail every day are simple Marijuana offenders, many of the first timers. What this says to me, is that they see an end to their tyranny and they are working as fast as those pudgy little number crunching fingers can work, to get as many people in the System as possible, before they can’t anymore. This is a petty and pathetic crime, that they enforce, not because it’s for the ‘greater good’, but because it BENEFITS them to continue this.

And…? You let them… You fucking… LET…. THEM… All the anger you see, all the pain you may feel, it’s real. I am whole heartedly AGAINST the fall of THE PEOPLE. I say bring the power back. Let us stand, and peacefully, take back control from these childish men and their wars. Let us, for once, live by our Pledge. Does what I say not have merit? Is it NOT the Truth? Tell me where I am wrong I will accept, admit to, and correct my mistake. Before I of course give you the finger and tell you ‘Fuck off, in the name of Gawd Awlmighty’. Because let’s face it. I don’t vote. I have contributed to this problem by NOT contributing. I know this. I see this. But I don’t vote for a reason. I just don’t see anyone WORTH voting for. All the politicians are TOO far in the Politician circle, and me? Well, I’m way outside the fucking box. I’m somewhere that only my voice can be heard. If I tried to change things physically? I’d get arrested for one law or another. I cannot act alone. It doesn’t work anymore.

This is the Age of Communication. You are a people addicted to your social networking, and yet you still act as if you have something to hide. What do you (most of you) hide that you haven’t at one time, admitted to someone online? Or one of those stupid voluntary information Chain letters? Fuck me running with a pitchfork sideways, I’m sick and fucking tired of all the noise but no action. For fucks sake… I WRITE. THAT is what I DO. I don’t make the laws, I don’t enforce them… I follow them and bend them as MUCH as I fucking can. So where will it end? Facebook is the BEST spy program out there. You see everyone’s connections, their pictures, their work, sex, religion, ideas, likes, dislikes, games, blah, blah, fucking blah. Don’t you get it? YOU ARE ALREADY IN THE SYSTEM.

You’re already in the fucking system…

Wake up… Log OUT… Reach back into the physical world! I know that you fell to the net because it was a world that was fresh, new, untouched… A place that you could change with a few clicks and a couple cute pictures. A place that became YOUR world. But THIS digital Arcadia is tied very closely to the Real world. We need you… WE, the WORLD, need you to look up from your fucking Farmville and open your goddamn eyes. I can’t keep screaming it from the rooftops… I’ll give up long before anyone listens, end up cutting it into myself, and throwing myself over the side to get any attention on the matter. Is that what has to happen? Is it really necessary for one more to die before anyone takes heed?

Where do you WANT to be in ten years? Free? Or in the Matrix? Sure… The Matrix has all the bells and whistles, but sooner or later, power changes hands, and when that happens, everyone gets unhooked. How’s miss Polly-16 years old-and fucking STUPID going to survive if something bad actually happens? What about all the homeless veterans? These men and women fought and DIED for you. Sure, the blood still pumps in their veins, but they are dead… I can see it in their eyes when they ask for change so they can get a beer to go to sleep on a cold night. They aren’t wanting the beer… They want the peace that rests in the bottom of the bottle… The Illusion of Warmth… Of happiness.

Is that what you really want? By now I’m addressing ALL of you. Because honestly… I’m tired… I want to go to sleep and just not wake up. I’m tired of waving the big ‘RIGHT FUCKING HERE’ sign to the blind… I’m tired of all the drooling, drug fed, illiterate children I meet online and in real life. I’m fucking tired of waking up only to find there’s more bad news on the television. I’m fucking tired of turning around after spotting some hope on the horizon, only to find that it’s been taken out by some other Group like the Tea-baggers. What’s it going to take to wake you fuckers up?

-sighs-

I could go on forever couldn’t I?

And it wouldn’t change a thing….

Not unless you stopped listening to what I said… and started following your heart. It beats… Follow the rhythm. It gets stronger the closer you work with others… The more hearts that beat together begin to sound as one, the thrum of LIFE in the minds and bodies of the Willing. Don’t wait for the future generations to clean this up… Clean up your own fucking messes. You are NOT children anymore, at least not physically… Fucking act like it. The world should no longer be your sandbox and I’m tired of playing in it. Stop trying to make the biggest sand castle while you attempt to step on everyone else’s, otherwise, I’ll find a fucking way to back a cement truck up to it.

The very same one that paved the road to Hell.

Scarab Susanti

As It Turns

•December 9, 2010 • Leave a Comment

Apparently, I’m not going to be able to do very much as far as T.E.R goes until I can get another computer. (Not to mention net, but that will follow and I’ll still be doing articles, just won’t be able to upload them as I’d like. But, regardless of how slow the advancement is, it’s still advancement. -shrugs-

My life, as usual, has once more taken the opportunity to plunge me into chaos and drag me through the broken glass at the bottom. I’ve got some new stuff that I’ll be putting online soon, but for now, here is a reminder that things are going to get back on track soon.

~Scarab

Rumblings in the Darkness

•November 25, 2010 • Leave a Comment

Two weeks… That’s all it’s taken to finally shake loose that last itching doubt about most of my Life and really begin to set forward and begin the process of laying the foundation for the future. Two weeks of pain, pleasure, hardship, and confusion; ultimately breaking the mold and throwing the old stained bits of the past into the recycle bin to be later used for better purposes.

At this moment, it’s been too long since I was last able to sit and actually have a moment to put up a new post. I’ve been bouncing again, and most of it’s not been all that pleasant. Soon I’ll head back up to Tennessee once more to get things rolling once again and I have to admit, I’m fairly optimistic about it. Up until recently, I was fairly lost and put out by the state of my life, but that’s when I really realized the irony in that. It’s MY life. I’ve gone too long just letting it happen and there’s much to do with all the years I’ve let slip away.

So in essence, consider this the first post of the new T.E.R. Soon to be fixing everything, archiving the old posts, cleaning up the set up, and basically putting the various Article Series in their respective places. Here’s to hoping you all are doing well and that my future posts will find you when you’re hiding.

Til then, happy holidays and such things as memories will be made of.

~Scarab S.

Time to Pull a Phoenix – Final & Last Post

•January 16, 2009 • 1 Comment

Greetings to the one or two people that actually read this sorely underused blog.
Today I decided to Phoenix The Entropy Report.

Basically, that means, I’m going to burn the whole damn thing and rebuild it from the ashes.  Stronger, harder hitting, more writers, and MORE content.  But most of all, I’m going to improve the people behind it.  Mainly, myself.

This year begins the first step in the attempt to get T.E.R into mainstream publication.

Let us bow our heads in a moment of silence for T.E.R and all it has been over the past year or more.

.

.

.

Alright.

This IS the last post that I will put up here until such time that I have readied the next incarnation of T.E.R.

For those of you that have followed me and Jack, for those that have helped us, fear not.  You will get paid back what you have given.   I do not forget my debts.  It may take time, but everything I owe WILL BE PAID IN FULL.

So to all of you,

Thank you.

Regards and Adieu,

Cheshire aka Scarab

P.s: I’ll see you all again soon.

Letters to Hunter – #1

•January 6, 2009 • Leave a Comment

January creeps on timidly, the first few steps of the new year, anxiously testing the water, not fully commited.  The end of the last year forgotten and festering in the gutter along with a slew of used condoms, spent cigarette ends, and broken champagne bottles, we turn our attention to the future.  What will pass in these coming months Hunter?  What’s going to happen?  You missed a good Race last year.  We now have our first (mostly) black President (elect).  A groundbreaking step for our society, don’t you think?  It’s truly a shame that you missed it in person.  I’m sure word has gotten to you by now though, wherever you are.

If I ever leave this world alive…

“The Doctor is Dead.” says a voice in my head.  “Dead, gone, shot from a cannon…  His memory has already started to fade from the world, back to the place where all ideas and dreams come from.”

“Then he’s not dead, or gone, or even forgotten…  Just recycled.”  I reply.

“You and your hippie shit…”  It says.  “Fading back into the darkness of my thoughts.

DAMN!  DAMN! SHIT! FUCK! BOB SAGET GAH!  WHY ARE THERE NOT ENOUGH CURSE WORDS TO DESCRIBE THE RAGE AND ANNOYANCE THAT I FEEL?!

Let’s face it Hunter, I’m getting no younger.  The world is slowly passing me by, running like hell whenever I turn my back, like some fucked up version of Red Rover that has no end and the losers die at the end.  I’m falling to pieces physically and mentally, and my writing isn’t all that great either.  Bah…  Sometimes it would indeed be nice to own an arsenal to exterminate (with extreme prejudice) all the pumpkins that I plan to grow in a large garden just for that purpose.  Or maybe I’ll choose watermelons.  Whatever…  The fact remains that there will be a Rapture for whatever I choose to grow.  And all the ones who have been saved will…  Well…  Be spared I guess…  Till I eat them…

Sorry to go on and ramble about like this.  I know I really have no direction with this transmission, but at least we’re not in Tucson.  Or Florida.

That fucking clock on the wall assaults me each second with a loud ‘TICK’ or ‘TOCK’…  The more I listen, the more it sounds like nothing BUT ‘TOCKS’.

Well, that didn’t come out quite like planned…  But I’m much too lazy right now to go back and change it.  If you don’t like the buttocks, deal with it.  I’m not here to pander to your flighty whims.  That’s what the midget in the leopard print speedo standing in the corner is for.  When I need something, I grab some of that ‘Liquid Gold’ (shortening), at work and douse him in it before grabbing him by the butt floss and flinging him down the yards and yards and yards of Slip ‘n Slide that I’ve rigged up around the house to ease in the movement.  There have been times that he’s hit some pretty steep speeds.  He wants a helmet, but I can’t allow him to for insurance reasons.

Just last week our neighbor’s dog (A stomping dog) ) ((Chiuhauha)) decided it was going to take a pleasant shit on our front door step.  With a splash of the Liquid Gold and a few test swings I was ready.  So a few hours later, the dog is wandering idly in the front yard, completely unaware of the End of the World that slowly creeps up from behind.  Wat (pronounced “what”), clad in only his leopard print speedo and a HUGE nerf bat, neared the beast and waited for it’s attention to be taken.  I saw my moment and knocked on our window, causing the little bastard to turn my way.  Faster than I could react, Wat roared and pounced, slamming the soft foam bat into the ankle biter, knocking it unconcious.  Brave and noble Wat…

It took only minutes for the dog to wake back up.  It looked at me and growled, whined, and pissed, trying to escape the clutches of Wat.

“Alright you little bastard, time for revenge.”  I said, taking the dog.  I held the dog firmly by the scruff and wandered around the yard until I found a fresh pile, recently laid by another of the neighborhood strays.  “And this…  Is why you don’t fuck with someone who owns a midget.

Screaming ‘Bad Dog’ at the top of my lungs, I rubbed the dog through it, making sure to coat thoroughly.  A few seconds later, I heard a door open behind me, and standing there looking deeply disturbed was the dog’s owner.  They were speechless as we locked eyes and tried to push the others buttons.  I stood up, holding the very shitty dog in a gloved hand by the scruff of the neck, and walked over to the owner.

“Is this your dog?”

They nodded.

“Good.  I’ve just put it through obedience school.  If it ever shits on my front step or in the yard again, I swear to you on the cumstained sheets of Jerry Falwell’s mother, I will eat your dog and shit on YOUR front step.  Got it?”

Another nod.
“Good.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go feed the midget and change his speedo.”

I returned to my kingdom victorious.

Well Hunter, I’ve got to get going.  Work in a few hours, y’know?

At any rate, I’ll write again when the time allows me to.

Regards and candle smoke,

Scarab

A Letter

•December 19, 2008 • Leave a Comment

I received the following letter from Cheshire:

“I need this put up on The Entropy Report with a quick bio about ‘Pedo Bear’.

Pedo Bear has hit Main Stream – Hooray for 4-chan

Picture inclosed – Proof

It’s fucking epic.”

Here is the picture that was attached

1212081430a1

Now It should be noted that I have no fucking clue what Cheshire had in mind when he sent this my way. This is why I have included the email and picture in full, unedited. Perhaps he will show up and add some light to the subject.

Regards,
Jack
I Listen.

There Is No Tomorrow – An explanation of my absence

•November 24, 2008 • 5 Comments

For you to understand the mindset I am currently in, you have to turn off your optimism.

All of it.

Don’t even think along the lines of ‘Maybe tomorrow will be alright’, or ‘Tomorrow will be better’.  For me, there is no Tomorrow.  Tomorrow is that dream I am unable to dream.  Insomnia, like a thief, steals my dreams from me, and Today bleeds into Tomorrow seamlessly.  The transition goes unnoticed, and when it is noticed, it is rarely welcome.

I warn you, while the following is going to be damn depressing, it’s all going to be True.  I feel no need to exaggerate.  You’ll understand why by the end of this.

-Scarab

Let’s start off with the beginning…

The Beginning came at the End of the trip to California.  Or rather, that’s where the downward spiral began.  While in California, alot of shit went badly, and alot of it was my fault.  I take full responsibility every decision I made out there.  While the trouble truly began at a very generous Michelle’s home, it only went down hill from there.  While I refuse to take any side in anyone’s relationship problems, there were times when I and Jack were forced into the situation, which made for awkward moments, and possible resentment from different parties involved.  I will not go into detail here for it’s not my business to explain.  If you know, then you know, if not, you’ve heard enough.

From Michelle’s we went to Moneke’s home in Lake Elsinore, California.  “Welcome to Dirt.” was the first thing she said to us.  She wasn’t lying.  It’s a big sand box, but it was amazing.  You can read more on that in previous posts that I’ve put on up Twitter Travels.  Regardless, Moneke treated us as family and there was never a moment that, as far as I know, we over stepped our boundaries there.  I consider Moneke a sister.  One that I never had and one that I hope to have at my back should I ever get into a fight.  I’m pretty sure she can scrap with the best of them.  ( 🙂  Miss you sis. )  When we decided to leave Lake Elsinore, it was a sad day for us, but having no money nor income, we couldn’t justify doing so.

After leaving the beautiful mountains of Lake Elsinore behind us, we headed up to L.A. where Ophelia Chong offered us her home for a time, and like Moneke, treated us like family.  Both Jack and I are still amazed and grateful for this.  Through Ophelia, we met Shannon Kelly, whom I still don’t know very much about, but I do speak to through email on occasion.  Shannon was going to Mexico for a few months and needed someone to watch his home while he was away.  A deal was arranged where we would pay $600 a month to care take his home, and we would have access to the city lines, etc.  If, after two weeks, neither of us had jobs, it was understood that we should hit the road and pay what we owed.  Check.  Upon everything being settled, Ophelia once again took a mother’s approach and bought over $50 dollars worth of food for us, even after shelling out a further $50 or so for the medication I had been prescribed by the hospital for my infected abscess tooth.  Ophelia, if you’re reading this, Thank you.

The apartment was great.  I’m sure you can still see photos of it on Jack’s Flickr or on Twitter Travels itself.  As the first week progressed, Jack and I spoke alot about our situation.  We understood we both needed work, and that if we couldn’t swing it, we needed to wing it.  The first week was spent settling in and trying to scope out the local neighborhood for any job possibilities.  As the second week neared and still no job, we began to get worried.  Now, while I did at one point have a wireless card for my laptop, it stopped working suddenly and I was left with only being able to use a network cable for a while.  (Vix aka TheVixy on Twitter) kindly sent Jack and I one to use, but much to my surprise, EVERY single one of the signals I could get were locked.  It was like everyone in that building was a computer science major at some point.  Really sad honestly.

So juggling having to use the dial up which wouldn’t work if Shannon hadn’t checked his voice mails, and having to walk down to the library for a 15 minute bit of time on their computers, we tried to move on with things and get back in the swing of it all.  Searching for work, networking, etc.  As the end of the second week drew nearer, I found a stash of quarters, twenty or so bucks worth, that I’m guessing Shannon used for laundry.  My first big mistake.  I should never have looked around in the fist place.  While it’s a valid excuse for me to say, ‘Hey I’m living in your house, it’s sorta expected of me to look around a bit’, it’s just that, an excuse.  With the money drying up, no job in sight, and donations at a standstill due to our inactivity, I suggested we use the quarters for bus fair, food, etc, and we would pay him back immediately.  Another big mistake.  This money was never mine to volunteer as such, and for this I am very sorry.

We used this twenty or so dollars like one would use sulfuric acid for removing hair.  Very carefully, and very well watched.  Lots of cheap ramen from the amazing asian market just next door, and as much cheap stuff we could spare in between the already fucked up prices for the day passes on the Buses.  In total, Jack and I rode about 17 or 18 miles in all, and spent $20 alone, some from the quarters I had, let’s face it, stolen, and some from the money Jack’s dad had sent to help us out.

To pause in this for a moment I’m going to add a few things here.

When we first started out towards L.A. we had been told that we would be helped to get a job.  While I’m tired at the moment, and feeling rather bad due to some tooth issues, I really do not believe this was ever initiated.  While, yes, it could be memory loss, I truly don’t think it ever happened.  Moving on, before we even got to California, we were promised several things, such as transportation, jobs, etc.  None of it was delivered, and what was, was a bit on the sad side.  Much, in my opinion, in the same flavor of the work we were delivering to the very crowd we were serving online.  (That would be all of you that donated, etc.)  Had we had a car, Jack and I would have been able to make that $20 for day passes stretch into far more than just 17 or 18 miles.  To the City of L.A., You’re being ROBBED.  Anyway…

We failed you.  Plain and simple.  It is my true belief that I did not do as needed, promised, or asked for, and for that I have beaten myself up for it day after day since my return.  I know I owe alot to alot of you, and all I ask, is for a bit of time.  You’ll soon know my situation completely so that I might at least have the piece of mind in knowing that you’re not just thinking I skipped the entire picture without so much as a thank you.

Returning to the vein of discussion, the Two Weeks was about over.  Jack and I were pretty sick of failure, we were in horrible spirits, and we had fucked up three ways to Sunday in Shannon’s house, and weren’t too keen on continuing to do so.  Mark, our PR guy who had and has helped us out with countless hours on website work, PR stuff, and probably alot more that I never saw, or didn’t understand was being done for us, invited us to live with him for as long as we needed at his apartment, when he was already scraping change and trying his best to get back on his own feet again.  A great guy who works too hard.  Trust me, you would like him, just don’t let him get started on a business tangent when you’re tired.  It’s like a snowball rolling down a never ending mountain of snow.  It just gets bigger and gains more momentum.  🙂  But that’s what you need in that business.

At any rate, The Vixy, as mentioned earlier, came to our help again when she offered to have her boyfriend and herself take us to Mark’s.  We cleaned up Shannon’s apartment and put everything the way it was supposed to be again, except for a sugar bowl Jack broke, but we had forgotten about that.  (Shannon later informed me that while it had been in his family for a while, he was able to replace the lid for $1.  So that was a relief.)  In a flurry of action and tapioca brain moment, we left, forgetting one major thing.  We hadn’t contacted Ophelia about this.  Everything was falling into place so quickly and with such finality that we really hadn’t even considered it a bad thing at the time.  We had had the two week understanding and it’d been two weeks.  We were going to contact her, but at the time, neither of us were thinking very clearly.  Another big fucking mistake.

The wrath at which Ophelia returned our disrespect was something that any Chinese warlord of previous times would have been proud of.  And that’s putting it lightly.  We deserved most of that wrath.  There were a few things that we had no control over, and with Michelle attacking us as well, there seemed no real escape.  Damage control started to take place and Jack and I smoothed things out as best we could at the time.  We still owe people money, and we are still going to pay them back.  But I digress.

When the end of the journey came up, Jack and I both saw it; I with a bit more trepidation than Jack, because in my case, I knew I was going back to being homeless.  Before I had left, I had lost my home, and being on the road had become my only place of residence.  So I was more than a little depressed about the horrible turn of events that had only just begun.

Getting back to Tennessee, I began my looking for another place to live and found it in another friend.  A good friend of both Jack and I, Tim allowed me to stay in his home.  My situation grew worse as I lost more than a bit of my mind and basically fucked things up for myself with every step.  I grew lazy, depressed, and more than a little suicidal.

Finally being able to take no more and not being able to stay away from my mate, I decided I needed to go to Georgia.  I borrowed $40 from a brother and headed South.  Prior to my leaving, I had set up a place to live.  I was assured multiple times that I would have a place to stay long enough to find a job.  This turned out not to be the case…  When I arrived there, I was told to ‘go ahead and head over’ and that ‘she was expecting me’.  This was a flat out lie.  The person had not been informed and in fact, hadn’t even known I was even coming down.  Knew nothing of what I had been talking to the person about for the past two weeks.  Needless to say, I was more than a bit on the bad side of things when I found I would have to sleep out in the woods until something happened.

So for the next two weeks, I slept in the woods in an empty suburban neighborhood that had yet to be developed.  It was hot, it was boring, and there was nothing at all close enough for me to get a job at.  My situation in my mind grew worse, and my relationship with my mate became stressed.  Yet another friend came to my rescue and offered to let me stay with her til I was able to get back on my feet again, the very one I am staying with now.  I would have to find a way to $45 dollars for a six hour bus ride up to Clarksville, Tennessee.  About five minutes from Kentucky and thirty or so from Nashville.  I made it up to Clarksville with just one bag.  Everything I owned, in that bag.

Calling them up that morning, I had found out that my friend hadn’t let her mom know that I was coming.  -Sighs-  By this point, you can imagine my depression levels.  I even was able to go to a dentist to get the roots of that tooth I had pulled removed.  Everything was smoothed out and things were going well, for a week or so…

I had been looking for work pretty constantly and upon returning one afternoon from the Career center, I was stunned to find three fire trucks, several police cars, and the house I had been living in, on fire.  Or rather, at the end of the fire.  Starting off on this, no one was hurt, so no worries there.  The fire, started by some unknown person, had destroyed everything on the top floor, where everything I owned was, and what the fire hadn’t gotten, the water damage from the water hoses had.  So I was back to square one once more.  From the old house, we moved into a hotel for several days, where I doubled and tripled my efforts to find work.  I constantly received ‘No, we’re not looking’, or ‘You’re not what we’re currently seeking’ or any other thing you can think of to politely tell people to fuck off.

From the hotel we moved into a rental, where we are now.  For the past several weeks, I’ve been looking, non-stop, for any job whatsoever, and every place I’ve been to has rejected me, multiple times.  I don’t know if it’s me, my work history, or what, but I’m getting sick of living this life…  I honestly feel like I’m dying and there’s nothing I can do to fix it.  Quite recently, another tooth decided it was time to shatter, and so now, I have an exposed nerve that throw me for a loop anytime I talk, eat, breathe, smoke, drink, etc.  I’m in constant pain once more.

And now… I’ve been here for more than a month.  And still no job.  Their patience is wearing thin on me, and I am beginning to feel as if I’m over stepping my welcome EVERYWHERE.

I have nowhere to go if I can’t get a job here.  I can’t stress this enough.  I’ve run out of options.

There is no Tomorrow…

So there you have it… You’re up to date on the whole mess.  I don’t think it will change anything, in fact, chances are, it’ll make things worse, but at least you know now.  These are the reasons I have been gone from the Internet, Twitter Travels, Twitter, The Entropy Report, etc.  I’ve been trying to pick up the pieces from my life and put them back together again as best I can, as everything else in my life comes crashing down around me.

Here’s hoping this has made your day seem a little better.

Regards,

Scarab