Friday, August 04, 2006

the only difference between me and a madman is

maybe if my fucking dad didn't take me to weegees and buy me way too much cheap booze i would be able to get to work before 11am. thanks a lot dad.

we went to weegees. my new favorite bar. the owner walked to the convenience store and bought me cigarettes.

my dad and i are going to new york in order for me to try to get a job at a publishing house. if i get one i will move to new york city. i would like to move to new york city. i would like to have a job in a publishing house. actually i would like to not have a job at all. i'm afraid if i got a job in a publishing house i would want to kill myself within a month. i'm afraid i'm never going to be able to bring myself to be responsible and an adult or whatever.

i've been having dreams about shooting people. i dreamed i shot my friend dan. he is already dead but in my dream he was alive and i shot him. it wasn't hard to do. i would really like to shoot up my work. i'm surprised more people don't go on murder sprees. i don't even really hate anyone here and i want to kill them anyway for no reason and also destroy everything in the building. it's this stupid cubicle.

i should start a cult of people who work in cubicles and want to kill everyone. the end goal of this project would be to get them to massacre their workplaces all on the same day. then i would go to jail. i could write a book in there. about how cubicle hell drove me fucking mad. then i would make a fucking bucket of money except i wouldn't be able to spend it because i would be in prision. my parents would be so embarassed if i masaccred my workplace.
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