and not drinking during this passionate run is almost too annoying to even put into words. a good one comes to mind though. FUCK. i cant even smoke. snort. shoot. lick. dream of. or. wish for. any remedy to cure this ailment of a disordered mind. 15 days and i need to get paid or hit the road and that is not the thought i want floating around in my already tempted twisted mind. all i need is a tiny little itty bitty break. if gods will is supposed to be through me. then cant the universe just plant a little lame job my way. interviews no calls back. calls but no interviews. and nothing to show for all of this cheap labored effort. all this while i shall horribly remain clear in mind as well as spirit. is the universe testing me. one more slip up and my ass is right back to the bottom. and i am not looking forward to that so some-thing any-thing a thing must give. i guess i could be trying a bit harder right now instead of typing.