Log 280 ~Time Is A Cruel Bastard~

What time is it? I swore I lost my watch yesterday, so I spent $15.00 buying a new one, and what was hiding under my seat? What I even left the house for? Woke up this mornin’, got yourself a gun. “Time Is A Cruel Bastard” and what it’s making me… hm

Monday, April 6, 2020

Log 280 ~Time Is A Cruel Bastard~

Hundred And Thirty-First Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I don’t have to go out. Well, at least until; my would you look at the time. As always, Madam Justice, like Professor Hulk, “Time Travel!” “Time, time, time, see what’s become of me,” as the song goes. In all these years, even minute to minute, I’m changing, rearranging, and estranging the man I am. From the one I want to be or have to, I’m not sure. So if you wouldn’t call me a bastard, then what am I.

A gun owner for starters. Now I started to say something, but I signed paperwork yesterday. You know how Cherry has me afraid someone is reading this currently. Anyway yeah, I stood in line for hours to as the song goes, “Woke up this mornin’ Got yourself a gun.” I’m a pervert, but that’s always been the truth. Whitney Wright was talking about “FREE PORN’ on Brazzers, so of course, I’m in. Minutes after, I looked up one of her films first, “Wh*re Tornado.” Before you get mad, you should consider what I usually look up as time goes by. It gets darker, more depraved, or even disgusting. I feel sick, but not because of that. No, it’s not the Coronavirus (COVID-19) either. It’s the feeling I got when I first picked up my gun. I want my zombies Madam Justice. Only this is the first time I’ve held a tool that has but one encompassing purpose in this world.

I’m a father, but what have I done for My Dæmon lately? He has his food, his meds, comfy spots, but in all this time, I’m still not the Dad I should be for him. Case and point I should have talked to you earlier and be playing with him now. One more morning of cutting off my alarm. How about the fact that I’m still alone? The two women I talked to yesterday and I’m upset about the one that stopped me at the door to the store. Madam Justice, that interaction will haunt me for the next week. I’m a writer, and then I’m not because; how many words did I write yesterday. I didn’t even reach the quota because of all the lines I was standing in because instead of life, what?

Munitions, masks, my monster in my pants, how I know, Time Is A Cruel Bastard.

I Will Have No Fear

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