It was noisy, I live between the auto race track and the horse race track and fireworks continued into the wee hours. I'm going to get a Payee to manage my SS money, tomorrow, because I can't and come out even. Now if I started with more..., like I used to. Ran into an old girlfriend at Hawthorne Strip, today, I bought her knee high socks, once many months ago. We chatted at the bar. Her name is Pixie, yes Pixie. She's lots of fun. I think the strip bars is my replacement for the KH. Same chat, less judgment. And pretty views, to boot. And a lot of strippers are down on their luck, too, just getting by, doing anything for another 10 or 20. I am just getting by, because I elect to hold onto the promises of the Faithful and Discrete Slave, instead of investing in the possibilities of this life and this world. Always been that way. But I don't get the rewards, now, because I cannot be true. And I cannot make myself "Evil", with complete deliberateness, because that would be the end of ALL hope, not of the life now, but the one to come. I'm a die hard JW brat, even though I don't believe in it. I challenge anyone to contest my faithlessness. My social worker intimated today, I squander my funds gambling. Does she know me, does she take the time and effort, or is her job, just a job. Just a job, I think. I am continually knowing new things about myself. Like that "woman thing". No I won't walk around in a dress and heels, but I am not all man, either. There are those who are all man and all woman. I've seen them. And I have seen me.
freak: a person or animal on exhibition as an example of a strange deviation from nature; monster.
I am a freak, because I have made my mind up to, not make it up. I know no religion, belief or persuasion. I am factless, gutless and stupid. I don't know right from left, up from down. My 2 parents lead me on 2 paths and I chose another. No path. Just stop, just petrification, just nothing. If I found the truth, it would kill me, because there is no truth and there is all truth. It would be such a fright. Like seeing a here-to-fore unseen phenomenon.
My freakness mauls me, because I appear in person, exposed to those who are not freaks. I am a freak. Those who are not freaks wish me out of there sight or dead. To be a freak is a sad, dismal existence. Friendless and assaulted continuously and perpetually. There is no hope. I grow more, not less freakish.
