Work was weird today. I was an hour late because my only belt for my pants broke. I had to wait until a store opened and I called the bosses to tell them. I literally had to walk inside the store holding up my pants. And then payed 45 friggin bucks for a lousy, plain looking belt.
I’m feeling good right now, I’m fed and content but work was difficult today.
Oh, I had plenty of good things happen to me but I kept thinking of my home situation and it depressed me. I don’t like going home anymore, the neighbors laugh at me and scare me. I win occasionally but probably never again. My normie neighbors are “made” men (watch Goodfellas). I can’t fuc with them but they can fuc with me. The atmosphere in my apartment is dangerous or crazy.
I hear perfectly timed laughter and stuff. The tension in the air is thick, from every direction. It just sucks so much. I’m old and tired. my mind survived two and a half years of solid psychosis, four years of crack addiction and intense stress but now this present strain is killing me. ■■■■■■■■.
But right this minute I’m content. Sitting in my warm car, full and resting. And people at work were cool and friendly. So I should be miserable but too many good things happen to me dammit.