Reading harold_maude's journal

It's been a few days since I wrote last. Being in a state of lostness for a while now, I figured it was time to come here and write.
For some reason writing when everything feels like shit that the dog or cat or any other animal you wish to insert, keeps digging up, helps.

I'm not drunk, although I wish I was tonight. I should be. Everything is about to hit the wall and go crash. I've been looking for work again, and nothing that fits what I need.

The on comming falling apart of my hands have made some decisions for me and have forced the reality that how I spend the remaining years of usablity of my hands a very real issue.
See it doesn't make a lot of sense to spend your life working to make someone else rich and when your done, so crippled up, all you have left to your self is parts of your body that don't work right anymore.

Last month was suppose to be, or at least I thought it was going to be a huge turning point for me. Things were feeling like they were about to fall into the right places, and it turned out to be one of the worst months I can remember.
Second only to last August.
Maybe I should have gone to a local mortician and requested to be embalmed due to the fact that everything in me felt dead.
Would have ended the argument right then and there.

But I know they would have carted me off in a white coat to the nearest padded room.

I made the decision month before last to leave my job due to the condition of my hands. After 4 10 hour days doing assembly work that left my hands knarled and me having to take alternating doses of advil and ibuprofin, so that by the end of my three days off my hands, though still in exquisite pain, were no longer knarled.
That along with getting almost run off the road on my way home a couple of times by truckers doing late night runs on the same road that goes to where I live, and not getting more than 3 hours of sleep a night durring the work week due to how messed up working nights is, the decision to leave that job seemed like a wise decision.

Now almost two months later I am still jobless, searching and what I'm finding is everyone wants experience.
A strange paradox of how do you get experience unless someone hiers you and they don't want to hier you unless you've had experience.

So it's down to the wire. In three weeks if I have no job I will be on the streets again. In the same time period if I have no job I will be with out transportation, and looking at a fine for owning an unlicenced truck. Even if I'm not driving it.
So I've been searching like everywhere and have considered the following jobs among the many, a 900 operator, (we all know what they do), sewing costumes for strippers, walking around with a bill board advertising for any company who will hier a living bill board, and advertising myself as some kind of consultant, what I don't know, I can't get my shit together long enough to figure my own life out let alone give advise to someone who is just as lost in the washing machine as I am.

I've got several sites that will hier writers, except the one's that would be open to me and my ramblings, are at the moment full up.

I went to e-bay, thinking I will try to sell my art there, I've got a huge portfolio and inspite of not having most of them matted and none of them framed, I would give it a go.
When I started looking at the art for sale section and saw what people were trying to sell their art for and that no one was bidding, and alot of the stuff I saw was the same kind of art that graces alot of big name galleries, I relized that my work most likely doesn't stand a chance.

While I was on e-bay I also looked at beads, which I have enough to open a small store with, and saw what they were going for and realized that for my entire bead invantory the chances of getting anything over next to nothing was unrealistic.
Same story with the jewerly.

Then I got the bright idea of doing surveys. All I could get for that was points. you fucking can't eat points, oh yeah and a far off chance of winning 10,000 dollars.
So much for that.
The places I was signed up with wanted to know why I was leaving, and I explained, very polietly, that you can't eat points and my time was worth more than points....

It's 12:28 am now. And tomorrow will bring more searching and possibly more dead ends. I've been at the breaking point for a while now.

It's funny though, inspite of how bleak things look I'm at peace inside.
It dosen't make any sense. So maybe I will hit the wall, and maybe I will crash. And maybe I will loose every thing in my possession, but I'm ok with that....I think sometimes I've really gone far off the deep end...

I look at the stars and wish
that tomorrow would stay away.
I look at my pillow and wish
I didn't have to wake up.
Inspite of all of this
daily feeding I'm eating
it's ok.
No matter what tomorrow brings
it's really ok now.
I don't understand
it dosen't make sense
but that's ok too
nothing is really mine
only just my skin
and that's on loan
really for only a little while.
I came from dust
and dust will claim me again
tho I don't know where
and I don't know when.
The only thing that bothers me
is if it takes a lingering while,
if it's gonna come
I wish it would hurry up and do it quick
because inspite of how at peace I am
I'm not into lingering pain.

nite all.

It only looks that way because your standing on your head.