Saturday, March 24, 2018

10 Years in the Wasteland

Well, my brain damage prevents me from reflecting like a normal human.  I went into this rant about how Campbell is stronger than me.  True.  But why am I so weak?   Now I'm wounded.

I realized not long ago what my problem is.  I don't have an ego.  I have my basic impulses from my id that are counteracted by the superego.  When this first happened, my programming went into reality.

Nasty stuff.

I belong in an abnormal psychology text.  Putin could put me in a luxury mental hospital, but no, we have to keep punishing me in my zindan.  I'm toast, baby.

I'm hoping Putin will come through and give me the settlement.  Then I will jump around in lala land in my house.  We all know I'm going to get dementia.  Let me have a few good years.

I'm laughing at the likes of Ten Years for wanting to help the victims then condemning me for my thought crimes and whining.  I'm annoying but no harm.

  Humans are human.  I'm all fucked up, but the beetard is happy to be alive.  I wake up every day, surrounded by books and the sun, and I smile.  It's a simple joy I'm allowed.




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