It is almost one thirty, and i am a bit drunk, to be honest. So forgive me any errors, or bluntness. I am writing this just to be an asshole, I shure as hell am not looking for any kind of pity, compassion or whatever.
This is going to be a drunk’s rant, and if any sequels come of it, (at least the ones written by me) I might not be the inebriate I am now, but I hope my history of alcohol will shine through.
It all started with me, twelve years ago, accepting a job that I knew was shit, in every way possible, but at least it gave me a chance to pay the bills. But, as we all know, for we are sensible people, that is the worst possible reason to take a job.
So I took it, and I worked for two disgusting years in a cubicle, telling people their problems would be solved, even though I knew it would only look like it was solved. For two whole years, I put band-aids on severe spine injuries saying everything would turn out fine.
At the same time, I had another job. On the side.
The best one i could ever have