I should not write tonight. I'm in a shit mood. Whatever happened to my hopeful life of crime? I read all of the wrong books, perhaps, idolized all of the losers but never made the leap into complete temptation. I succumbed to a mid-life of labor.
I am trying to lie here and listen to music while I write, but it's not working. I also tried watching a movie and reading a book. I'm the chairman of the bored (watch that with the audio off, it makes more sense). I know why this is happening: I'm being punished for not drinking. The mind starts to penalize its host when its compulsions aren't satiated. It's the curse of the age. Drinking makes me foolish, abstaining makes me listless. Truly, spiritless.
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