Foreword
This week was rough. Resistance has been kicking my ass. That said, won't do some dedicated commentary this week. I'm feeling depressed. Makes me sound like reluctant housewife, doesn't it?
Sunday, 2024.09.01 - Still Drunk
Raw: Alex was a little wobbly. He held on to the oven handle and ripped it out of the socket after stumbling backwards. At least the pizza was ready. Salami, mushrooms, onions, some extra cheese. Nothing fancy. Just a frozen pizza. Still delicious thoough, so he didn't complain. It must've been like three after midnight. Probably approaching four. He sat down and started munching. This hits the spot, he thought. Maybe he should give Elly a call. Tell her how he feels about stuff. Talk about some of his feelings. Luckily Alex sobered up to the point of realizing this was a bad idea. Elly didn't like him very much anyhow. She probably would give him the evasive speech, being polite and all, and then reject him none-the-less. I'd like to be friends, don't you? Of course. He thought only people in the movies were doing that shit, but here he was. Alex undressed and tossed his underwear into the bathroom corner. Twinkle, twinkle little princess. He took a piss and started wobbling again, accidently strafing the bathroom tiles with a burst of urine. Shit! He got on his knees and started soaking the puddles with toilet paper. Then the pizza made a comeback.
Monday, 2024.09.02 - What's Funny
Raw: Who's going to have the last laugh? Maybe god. Like the universe is a practical joke and heaven is just us getting it. Then we all laugh together for infinity. Alternatively I remember having a panic attack, like I frequently did as a kid. It felt like the revelation of a joke, but not really one you could laugh at. More like a cruel one, like saying "work makes free" at the entrance of a concentration camps. A breach of trust. A loving mother removing her mask, so to speak, and underneath the revelation of pure hatred. Mama never wanted you, and she never will. You're alone. Forever. Someone who got bamboozled into a false sense of security. Fake love, fake friendship. Or like a girl humiliating you at the prom. I guess that's the dichotomy. Getting laughed at or laughing together. If there's a god I hope he has a sense of humor, but not the cruel kind. Just him winking at you, touching your head and telling you why none of this was serious. Not like it didn't matter, just in the way that takes away your worries and resentments. All the actors, good and bad join hands and take a bow. The last encore of humanity.
Tuesday, 2024.09.03 - Tight Forty-Five
Raw: Man, he was looking good. He was wearing aviator shades while riding his new cybertruck. Totally Top Gun. How old was Tom Cruise anyway? 60? Yeah, let's drive. Roll down the window, stick your arm out. Slam your hand with the beat. Amazing. Bang! Bang! Bang! The car crashed. His glasses were now hanging from his face. He was confused. What the fuck!? He stumbled out and realized he crashed into someone's rear. Damn. "Everything ok?"- "I think so." A cute woman muttered. Her nose was bleeding. Probably broken. "You slammed your brakes!"- "Oh, fuck off." She said. The Tesla was smoking. Black smoke. Midlife-Crisis-Man looked over and then the car bursted into flames. BOOM! Like a thermite torch. It would take the fire department two weeks to stop the fire. Midlife-Crisis-Man was forcer to uber from now on. For a while at least, until the insurance stuff was settled. The woman claimed it was his fault, probably because he was distracted while listening to Wham! Wake me up, when you go go! One of the mexican driver looked into the rear view mirror and monitored his passenger. "Rough day, huh?"- "Tell me about it." The stitches still hurt. No kickboxing classes for Midlife-Crisis-Man in the near future. Just get home and get drunk, he thought to himself.
Wednesday, 2024.09.04 - Dear Principal Chen
Raw: We received your request, but there's nothing we can do. So long. Bye! That was it. Sammo felt defeated. The government was pretty strict with that sort of stuff. Former principal Chen was trapped in medieval looking trap. Then it started raining. A few hours prior some kids were throwing old tomatos at his face. Chen's social score was at an all time low. Sammo was still sad about it, but he was powerless. All of this for criticising the party. A few month later chang was transported to a quarry and had to hammer rocks. An angry guy was yelling at him. Faster! Chen nodded. And so the months went on. Then one day opportunity struck. Due to pure chance Chen found himself unshackled behind a truck, looking down an open road. He was legging it and fled east. Mostly because he thought the party was expecting him to fly west. One day his former pupils were informed about the mysterious dissapearance of their treacherous teacher. Sammo felt like smiling and so did a few others. Good for him. Meanwhile Chen was cooking in a fire pit and looked over his shoulder. Was that a wolf? The freezing in front of a dug out firepit. Then a pair of eyes emerged from the shadows and gnarled at Chen. Chen threw a piece of rabbit as a peace offer. Not much meat on it anyway, but it was better than nothing. The wolf ate and vanished again. He would end up following Chen, but holding a careful distance.
Thursday, 2024.09.05 - The Sleepover
Raw: The Sleepover. This wasn't a regular sleepover. More like bounty hunter's picnic. Lots of colorful characters. Grown ass men, forced to cooperate. Now the circumstances of the sleepover were kinda weird. A bunch of explorers trapped underground. What were they going to do? Unsure. They were looking at eachother all sceptical, holding on to all kinds of little treasures. One slept on top of a bag of loot while hugging a little golden statue. Some unknown entity, none ever had heard of. A cult goddess with tits holding a snake. Either way, sooner or later they needed to figure out their escape. Some preferred the direct way, like blowing their way through the rubble, others were more scientific about it. A minority just wandered off. It all boiled down to conserving energy. Yeah. Sit tight, relax. Don't breath more than you have to. An electronics guy held some contraption to his ear and shook his head. No chance. Luckily enough one of the explorers was smart enough to tell his partner. As a whole nobody felt like dying, but sometimes you don't have any say in that. A group discussion started. People were talking about why they needed the money. Their hopes and dreams. You're a stupid asshole, someone said responding to a particularly dumb idea. Much to the anger of the guy who uttered it. That's when the first fight broke out.
Friday, 2024.09.06 - Warehouse Wars
Raw: Warehouses contain lots of things. The management of said things might get a little iffy. It's hard to... keep oversight? What's the word? This one especially. A stockpile of various weapons. Rifles, grenades, and other things. Essentially it was just cheaper to just dump the gear rather than getting it home. So the inventory would end up being sold to a shady Nicholas Cage types, buying it by the ton. You know, Lords of War. It was good business, especially when whoever was trying to fill the power vacuum left by the occupation force. A great opportunity. As the last planes were picking up, with some desperate locals clinging to the landing gear and falling out of the sky, men could be seen rubbing their hands and smiling like greedy little children. This crate of rifles would end up at some strange bazar, somewhere in the border region. The kind of place where you could get anything. Bazookas, surface to air missiles, flame throwers, you name it. Pay up and it's yours. No questions asked. It can't hurt to have some firepower to finish an argument. Just point your rifle and smile. Hope for the best.
Saturday, 2024.09.07 - Bus Stop
Raw: I don't know much of anything, but I've got my opinions. Like everybody I guess. In terms of life I keep thinking along the lines of Nietzsche's eternal regress, or rather in terms of the little I remember. You could call it reincarnation or something else, but it essentially seems to boil down to us coming back. I think it's only logical. Life happened, we came into existence somehow. If there was something prior to this I can't remember anything. Eventually we venture back into that sweet forgetful non-existence. I'm saying, if it happened before, who's to say it can't happen again? Non-existence, existence, non-existence. Death. We won't notice the inbetween because we're not there to notice. Non-existence isn't an experience. Half of infinity will pass in an instant. Time itself is a little wiggly and I suppose some would argue even time might cease to exist, or our concept of time could. For me time is just the linearity of events an non-events. Non-events being just the lack of events, but that seems oxymoronic. Even nothing can be something? Yeah, I'm not smart enough for this. Either way, I believe life is what me make of it, in the truest sense. Nothing matters, besides whatever meaning we attribute. We're just stranded at some kind of bus stop, killing time until we catch the next bus. What we do with out time is up to us. You decide.