Log 240 ~Will And The Sirens~

Strange isn’t that I bring up the singing of Sirens when I only unclogged my ears a few days ago, and I have to keep my head full of things, or I worry, but somehow I’m having no trouble sleeping but am I resting? “Will And The Sirens”

Wednesday, February 26, 2020

Log 240 ~Will And The Sirens~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but what do they say of a fool and his money? Well, I’m not looking to spend any of it right this second. Tonight’s addiction (Sunday) is brought to you by The Walking Dead. Didn’t I bring up obsession a few days ago? I’ve gone mad with thoughts of the Dead. Before the humming, it was all Far Cry 5. Earlier it was Detroit: Become Human. Sad to say this evening, it was Anna Vlasova, aka Alissa Angel. As always, if you look her up, that’s your fault; also a red “bosom” dress, thank you Cherry.

With the course of my life, I have felt sway by a great many things. Nine times out of ten, there’s a girl involved. Even here and now Inspector Echo is because some girl wrecked me and yes I deserved it. Ironic, I talked about Dear Future Wife as a wrecking crew. Do you remember the year I spent writing to; well, you can look it up, but Cherry told me, “the things men pay for,” right? I wasn’t paying for anything I was only hoping for a free one and talk about an investment. How about investing in reading and writing? Inspector Echo I finished Siren by Hazel Grace, and that brings about this train of thought. My desires, this jonesing, a man’s primal instincts, and how dare I blame nature. Do I deny it? Well, I’m not reading something that feeds my “pornographic passion.” The Gargoyle, Andrew Davidson.

Only tonight, I’m not reading at all because I gave into sleep. Inspector Echo, sleep if anything holds back my FEAR if the next moment. What happened to replace Greed with Sloth. Excuse this language, but Jesus Christ, money has nothing on me, not being afraid. Now that brings up a sick “affliction,” no, not that one, or something else, but I’m talking about working the Day Job. I can’t “get it up” to help myself, but tell me I’m going to miss a day of work? Again this place has lasted closing in on three years, but the Day Job is eight years and counting. You’ve heard me talk about being FREE, of setting my course. Only I’m like a sailor being sung to, headed towards my destruction. Someone said that satisfaction is the death of desire. Let It Go; Will And The Sirens.

I Will Have No Fear

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