esquire
The Beginning 06-05-06 03:05
Its 2:34am and I can not sleep. I find myself questioning everything. I watched Trainspotting tonight and thought a lot about my aunt's methadone overdose. We never talked about it except that night when we got the phone call. She picked the lock on her medicine cabinet and put all the rest of her state sponsored addiction into her veins to try to satiate the void that quitting heroin had created. I hope she enjoyed it, I really do.

I don't do drugs. I live in a shit hole with what I could carry on an airplane surrounding me: Clothes, a laptop, three books and sheets. I feel like I'm a monk. I have a hard drive with thousands of dollars worth of music I did not pay a nickel for, and yet I do not find myself playing any of it often anymore. I sit in silence. Sometimes I read, but mostly I like to sit and think and stare. There is a whole city surrounding me that I have barely ventured into, but I am more than content doing nothing at all. I can tell you of its history or philosophies. I can explain how racism here has shaped music and global politics. Yet, I cannot tell you where a good club is.

The one thing that consumes my thoughts the most is my little sister. I haven't called her in two weeks. Ever since they found the tumor I have not felt well. She has some of the best doctors in the world. What she has is really anomalous and they want to investigate it firsthand. Still, the best doctors are still only human.

Living without a television set has made me notice something. Even though I never watched that much TV to begin with, when you do not have one days are suddenly no longer divided into 30 minute sections. Time seems to move slower, too.

On top of my regular job I am a professional thief. Not to say that I'm a former member of razor1911, but I know there is something wrong when I am making money out of nothing. I cheat banks and credit card companies. I complicatedly transfer money from bank to bank, purchasing CDs and transferring emulated balances to 0.0% credit cards and loans. The result is quite a large sum that I have calculated at times to be in excess of $1000/hour for actual work done. None of this is illegal, but all of it feels unearned. Consequently, all of it is also unspent.

Overall, what I am trying to say is that I miss something. I just can't remember what that is.
esquire