working for me

[Axanderdeath]

We all are working hard. Working our fingers to the bone and bone to marrow. All the veins are exposed-surging with blood—but for what—for what this work? So that you can say:

“I worked for what I have now.” your possessions. Your moment between 60 and death that you do what you want.

At the work site. I am enjoying pulling nails out of cement form. I am thinking about doing it ever day of my life. Construction. I am thinking about the fucking girls. I am thinking about sex. I am thinking about tits and ass and all the wonderful orgasmic joy...

I am dirty now. I buy a cheap shirt with a pocket just the right size for cigarettes and a pack for it. I smell I need to buy deodorant and a cell phone—you need a cell to get laid in this do in ages.

I sit in the library and smell my arm pits—I smell them and write... the only thing I have had the chance to write because of all this beautiful fulfilling work I have been doing. This fucking work—that we all are brain washed in to thinking we love. This work that keeps our race moving forwards into to a great and none moving future of buttons and sassy sissy fuckers...


I enjoying writing and smelling and writing about it in my own arm pit smell in the library after work in Victoria—thinking about sex—and needing to blow a fat load..;. forever and ever of course--eh man?

[stilltrucking]

I never know what to say
I think I liked it a lot
keep on writing Geoff
I have heard guys in their twenties who sound like they are old men

eh "you know what I like"