The world packages the  new year as hope personified. It’s a lie. One month into 2015 and I laugh bitterly at the idiot I was thinking this year would be any different.  In fact it’s worse.

Today I walked out to the lake just to make sure I was still among other humans. Apparently God is still in His Heaven and all is right with the world because the closeted gays were still around the gazebo.

I’ve been off my meds almost two weeks  and my dreams are filled with nonsensical mixes of my mother, the unmaterialized landlady, and suicide.

In reality I’m too much attached to my cats to kill myself, but I like the idea of people complaining about a smell which turns out to be my fat rotting carcus. One final fuck you to everyone who never gave a damn.

I remember hearing about a guy who lived in the apartment across the hall from us before we lived at our old apartment. Apparently he overdosed on whatever his drug of choice was and was  only found two weeks later because of the stench. Ugh.

This was the year I was supposed to make new friends, expand my horizons, take a class. Fuck it.

There are two types of people in this world, the useful and the the useless. Some will die mourned. Others, like me, will one day keel over with a coronary and be diiscovered when their stench permeates the walls .

I think I better get my meds tomoorow even though there are other pressing needs

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