Max: The Contemplating Unemployed Insomniac

I have some serious issues. I haven't slept all that well and it's beginning to ratify my abnormal mind. Most people don't think about, while laying in stillness in a brutally black room, the things I do. Like, for instance, I wish to be like Roosevelt.

The other day I bumped into someone I did not want to really run into. But it was one of those incidences that I could not avoid. Eyes were locked. One that happens I'm cooked. It such an ordeal for me and this time was no different. I immediately blur out of focus and enter a sub-world where the characters before me take new forms. I'm never talking to the same person you are. Ever.

It's becoming harder and harder to turn the other cheek these days. A day doesn't go by where I wouldn't punch someone in the mouth. If it's not someone pushing you back into the elevator, it's some stupid driver on a mobile cutting you off. People in general are bothersome. Here's a picture of me.

They say when you're unemployed you get to do things you never would have. For some, that's a positive. But that's a cracked bowl of shit. There is no routine when you're unemployed. Everything is turned upside down. It's like going through life with vertigo. Actually where vertigo meets a lobotomy. When you have too much time on your hands your brain begins to wonder into places it would normally not. It's what that Maslow guy enumerated for us. How nice of him to neatly package it in geometric form.

Other than that I imagined myself mowing the lawn with one of those plastic lawn mowers that shoots out bubbles and cutting the hedges with rubber shears. Just to see how people react. Someone told me to go fuck myself once. Imagine, again, if someone you know caught you engaging in such a cheap low budget act with a dildo. Worse, you're caught singing the words "...everybody wang-chung tonite...."Now that's a scene. Forget the pie scene in American Pie.