thanks to my mom and friends i have cubs crap all over my house and on my person.
i know everything about my lovable loser team
but i didnt go to the games. and when they lost all three of them i didnt care.
why should i? its a rich mans game where millionaires play a kids sport.
it takes far more skill than kicking a ball into a huge net, and those fans nearly kill themselves.
meanwhile protests, meh.
they wanna slow down my favorite freeway. the oldest highway in cali. if i was gonna protest anything it would be that because the xbi mobile loves to turn the swervy corners of that drive while speeding at high rates.
if i was going to protest anything it would be that, the idea that the speed limit should be lowered to 45 mph. but i wouldnt protest it. why? because i see people getting hurt there. crashes happen there every day.
most of the big protests have already happened. we all have equal rights now. we are all pretty much the same. sorrow and misery knows no bounds. it doesnt simply hit the rich, ive seen some sad poor people nowadays too.
here we are 11 years into the busblog and sometimes I have the feeling I should have quit while I was ahead.
the line “nothing in here is true” was maybe the beginning and end, because most of the time, I’ve learned, no one really wants the truth. people prefer to look at things while squinting.
myself included. times a million.
when I was a lad I’d keep detailed journals documenting not only what I did but what I wore and ate, and when I got older those details just made me sad for some reason so I made this.
but then you’d meet someone and all would be well. they might even write truths to you and you’d out-truth em and maybe even write them while you were drunk or worse, flying above a metropolis in chopper one on the edge of your seat, close to death, and they’d say baby write me drunk whenever you want. so you do, but that’s too heavy for em.
and then you find yrself flying around alone, again, a victim to trusting their half truths.
if people still wrote letters or in journals I’d make stationary and diaries that said nothing in here is true, cuz that phrase seems to be the spoonful of sugar that helps the medicine go down.
right before you get drowsy and switch on the autopilot.