Bored

Oh Jesus I have to get up.

I want to keep sleeping but after ten hours my body wants to do something, it doesn’t know what but it needs to be actionable. I’m comfortable and well rested in my Sterns & Foster, one hell of a bed – a bed I used to sell. The crack in the window tells me it’s cold outside, which being January in Chicago is a fairly normal state of affairs.

The dirty clothes that litter the floor leave a musky dirty sock aromatic smell to my life. It’s a bit of depression, and a dose of laziness, compounded by reality and unemployment. Hell it isn’t so bad when it’s your own smells. Well nothing left to do but roll out of my luxury day and meet the cold dark day.

I’ve been unemployed for four fucking days and the boredom can only be described as being tied down by socialists and forced into watching Al Gore read live on Book TV at three in the morning. Kill me now Christ, if you have any salvation left in your heart. After two days the vacation ended and I’m ready and willing to go back to work. Sitting at home doing nothing is truly the worst experience of my short drug fueled life. I think my mothers suicide was more pleasant then this bullshit.

People don’t understand that being out of work isn’t a vacation paid for by the government. Vacations are filled with sun, sex, drugs, beaches, museums, site seeing, and gallons of alcohol. I can’t afford any of the above so as Kristofferson once wrote, “Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose, nothing ain’t worth nothing but it’s free.” I finally get what he was saying.

I have been unleashed by the restraints of society and free to roam the world and do as I wish. It’s just I don’t have the money to fucking do it. I can’t go to the museum that costs money, I can’t afford a drink at the bar, and it’s too fucking cold to sit on the rocks of Lake Michigan. It’s a vicious and evil torture mechanism created by the weasel that saunter in the darkness.

No time to think about it any longer I have a shower to take. The warm water and slippery soap feels good on my skin. Its oddly one of the last pleasures that still provoke an emotion beyond numbness and I want to make it last. I shower like a rape victim scrubbing hard and letting the water wash away the filth. Time for some TV and the comfort it brings.

If you don’t think our system is broken take off a day of work and watch the mockery and decadence network television produces for the out of work, disabled, and delinquent. Hours upon hours of judges dishing out ‘justice’ with quick wit, simplistic advice, and stern structure. Christ, is this what our system has become? Is Judge Joe Brown the pinnacle of what our forefathers imagined? I sure as hell hope not.

Fishing used to be a term that described a necessity to life activity. Teach a man to fish and he never will have to beg again we’ve been programmed. Well the lawyers got that memo and now all of them fish in ads seeking out the unjust injured who NEED to sue, and helping fools part with their money giving them lump sums instead of the prearranged pay outs. It’s rough out there.

I’ve exhausted the internet and have driven every road of the information super highway worth traveling. I’ve gathered information, jerked off to porn in the seedy cites off the highway, and read screeds of fantasy in the world of politics. Everything I’ve ever wanted from the internet I have seen and now it’s nothing more than a drug. I need my daily fix of faux information, ego driven postings, and dirty, dirty women.

I got to get out of this place the walls are closing in around me. Television leaves me numb and I take no enjoyment from movies, shows, or news. It’s too fucking cold to go outside but if I don’t I’m afraid I will slowly go insane here in my study. My little refrigerator, my microwave, and my radio which used to help humanize and soften my work days now clutter the little space I have, no longer welcome at my former job. Jesus Christ even the autographed picture of Johnny Cash seems to be staring at me with a look of pity and disgust.

No time to defend myself to the leering legend in black time to get out of this shit house fast. I throw on my stained white sweat pant and I top my long underwear shirt with a Willie Nelson T-shirt. Where to go? What am I going to do? Where do the people go with no money to stay from going insane? Am I insane? I don’t know anymore. Get a grip Larcher your losing it, and losing it fast.

A light snow purifies the dirty city and turns the gray streets white. It’s not as cold as I thought it was seems like things are turning around for the better. I walk past one of the stores I used to work at but the drone inside was a stranger and not worth the conversation. I pass by the deli’s full of old Italians talking about the old country. I watch as Mexican kid plays an old arcade game as his parents wash their cloths at the dirty laundry mat.

I come to an old familiar place my bar where Homeless Pete sits and drowns his misery. I tell him I’ve been laid off and he informs me I’m talented and will land on my feet. Funny thing is Pete is a pretty sharp old sage for a fifty something homeless drug addict. Wisdom knows no wealth and anybody who thinks otherwise is probably fairly wealthy criminals and really don’t need to believe it. Money dives everything.

I hate beer but now is not the time for debate of intoxicating spirits. I down it fast as Pete bloviates to me his struggles and how he needs a ride to get a new ID so that he can seek government aid. I agree that if he can get the cash together to get the ID, I would chuffer him around Friday. What the hell better do I have to do but help my fellow traveler? Besides it could be a great story for you folks as our adventures never end without something happening.

I can’t afford more than one beer, and worse then that I don’t have the cash to fix the sickness that the jukebox has caught. Somebody gave the damn thing an STD and it’s irritating my ears. Fucking people and their bad taste in music, and their grotesque money to dictate what the rest of us have to listen too. Me, when I have money I’m a benevolent balladeer of musical brilliance. But not right now I have to get back outside and out of this den of depression.

I hop a bus and watch as the strange people stare at me like I’m the strange one. Just because a man wears sunglasses on a cloudy, snowy day does not make them strange. Peculiar I’ll accept, but strange - NEVER! I walk into the book store a mass consumer paradise of literacy and strong coffee. Perhaps the surreptitious of employment lies on the shelves, perhaps a tale of bravery and strength will inspire me, perhaps it’s too late.

I pass by a shrine of books to our lord and savior Barack Obama. I make the sign of the cross to him as it seems like the appropriate gesture at the appropriate time in our history. It made an old lady angry, a conservative grind his teeth, and a liberal grin. Fuck’em all! Nobody really has any God damn passion anymore and that’s the biggest problem with our nation. Where is the civil unrest? What happened to student unrest? Where the hell are the bathrooms I have to take a Blagovich bad.

After a righteous BM it’s time to fill my mind with words of hope and promise. I settle for a magazine with half naked women as I grab a coffee and sit down in the lounge area. A strange crowd has gathered as two nerds in their twenties play chess. Who the hell in their twenties goes to a book store to play chess? Losers I proclaim in all my genius. Two Europeans gibber next to me in their strange tongue the female creature is looking at a photo book while the male creature is looking at a BMW manual. Fucking trash. College students work and type with great vigor hoping that their chosen field will lead to security and long term enjoyment and fulfillment. That is if they are the lucky ones.

Wow the girl in front of me a thirty something with a balding oaf reading a jogging magazine gets up and has a great ass. I’ve lost focus again. It happens even to the best of us but I must continue on something has to happen here as my boredom is creeping back in. Political correctness has destroyed the excitement of America leaving us with just the scrapbooks of yesteryear.

No one protests, no one fights, no one gets in trouble, and nobody engages in conversations with strangers anymore. We have become a nation of not caring. We have become a nation of I. Money controls us and in no way is anybody going to risk losing their security by engaging in anything that doesn’t benefit themselves. The 80's had it all but culture and good times just like anything else eventually rot then die.

If you think I’m wrong you’re an asshole and I really don’t care. But given the fact you’ve read this much I feel the need to point a finger and for a prime example of which we are look no further then my honorable Governor Rod Blagovich. Its true most politicians whose names make you think of peckers are usually corrupt; Dick, Willie, Rod, Spitzer. It’s an odd fact we should all read into more.

I don’t have a job and I don’t get a paycheck but the honorable Rod Blagovich does. This deceitful scum never served anything above his own self interest. Usually in a situation like this, with as much damning evidence as there is against this Dracula clone would resign. However I don’t think this man will. He knows he’s not going to jail, and we know he’s not going to jail so why resign? He’s already been disgraced why not milk it, cash as many checks as possible, and then write a brilliant book painting himself as the victim.

Today the guy who Blagovich picked to replace the messiah in the United States Senate showed up in Washington like Will Kane for a face down on the hill at high noon. This modern day cowboy marched to the capital building with no support from his posse and little help from his friends. In his eyes he’s a black man fighting for what is right, no different the Dr. King or Rosa Parks but the reality is he’s just a Hench me in the evil gang of Blagovich and we all know it.

His march was not one of history but one of disgust and disgrace. I don’t blame him as he’s just an opportunist seeking his opportunity in the land of plenty. But this is not a race issue he’s not a nigger we hate because of skin color he’s a qualified politician, a fellow man, and he just like us being used as a pawn by a money/power hungry honkey. The most dangerous of all the races is the white man in a suit.

Blagovich understands the racial side of the game and is playing it perfectly replacing the country’s only black Senator (now the first black President) with another qualified black man. To shut this man out of office is to shut a black man out of office. Remember what I said about nobody caring anymore? Well this is one of those times where it will work to our advantage as nobody is going to see him being shut out as racist but rather what it is, a weasel cum rag criminal Governor playing games.

I’m disgusted that I’m here with nothing, and he lives in a Governor’s mansion still. Is there any hope for guys like me? Is the American Dream really dead? Has democracy fallen to indifference? Are we that frightened of power we don’t protest in outrage anymore??

Jesus Christ this is only my fourth day of boredom.

More to come…