Do you want to move to Ohio with me and work down home? I made a move last night to get linked in with the network. There's a computer center (media communications) facility that used to be open. We could probably get John to pay us $20 an hour each to operate it.
I have a family self-sufficiency voucher that I need to use in before 3-4 years. I was thinking maybe that we could move to Lancaster and commute. Uhh, yeah.
So simply it'd be a simple get-up gimmick, you know, we could get there around nine and leave around 6-ish. It's just a little gig where people go to do their business who don't have access to advanced equipment privately.
I don't get off probation til 2026, but I could work now. It's something that would take some work to tackle, but atleast we would have a cause. And I'm not asking much from you. Cook food, change the potpourri, watch the dailies with me.
I'd have to ask John, but he's pretty cool, so I'm sure he'd keep us busy. But uh, yeah. We'll probably make enough to go to dinner every other month or so and keep the vehicle(s) running.
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Originally posted by Sudo
I always remembered them in prison because the lack of sensory stimulation would result in vivid dreams and be furious to wake up in the reality I was currently stuck in
Hey that's interesting. So people in solitary could possibly remember most dreams? I remember anytime I quit smoking weed I had mad as fuck dreams approx 2 weeks after.
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Kind of reminds at the end of the film, "A Scanner Darkly", were Philip K Dick the author dedicates the film to all his friends who died as a result of misadventure. It goes something like:
This has been a novel about some people who were punished entirely too much for what they did. They wanted to have a good time, but they were like children playing in the street; they could see one after another of them being killed—run over, maimed, destroyed—but they continued to play anyhow. We really all were very happy for a while, sitting around not toiling but just bullshitting and playing, but it was for such a terrible brief time, and then the punishment was beyond belief: even when we could see it, we could not believe it…. For a while I myself was one of these children playing in the street; I was, like the rest of them, trying to play instead of being grown up, and I was punished. I am on the list below, which is a list of those to whom this novel is dedicated, and what became of each.
Drug misuse is not a disease, it is a decision, like the decision to step out in front of a moving car. You would call that not a disease but an error in judgment. When a bunch of people begin to do it, it is a social error, a life-style. In this particular life-style the motto is “Be happy now because tomorrow you are dying.” But the dying begins almost at once, and the happiness is a memory. It is, then, only a speeding up, an intensifying, of the ordinary human existence. It is not different from your life-style, it is only faster. It all takes place in days or weeks or months instead of years. “Take the cash and let the credit go,” as Villon said in 1460. But that is a mistake if the cash is a penny and the credit a whole lifetime.
There is no moral in this novel; it is not bourgeois; it does not say they were wrong to play when they should have toiled; it just tells what the consequences were. In Greek drama they were beginning, as a society, to discover science, which means causal law. Here in this novel there is Nemesis: not fate, because any one of us could have chosen to stop playing in the street, but, as I narrate from the deepest part of my life and heart, a dreadful Nemesis for those who kept on playing. So, though, was our entire nation at this time. This novel is about more people than I knew personally. Some we all read about in the newspapers. It was, this sitting around with our buddies and bullshitting while making tape-recordings, the bad decision of the decade, the sixties, both in and out of the establishment. And nature cracked down on us. We were forced to stop by things dreadful.
If there was any ‘sin’, it was that these people wanted to keep on having a good time forever, and were punished for that, but, as I say, I feel that, if so, the punishment was far too great, and I prefer to think of it only in a Greek or morally neutral way, as mere science, as deterministic impartial cause-and-effect. I loved them all. Here is the list, to whom I dedicate my love:
To Gaylene deceased
To Ray deceased
To Francy permanent psychosis
To Kathy permanent brain damage
To Jim deceased
To Val massive permanent brain damage
To Nancy permanent psychosis
To Joanne permanent brain damage
To Maren deceased
To Nick deceased
To Terry deceased
To Dennis deceased
To Phil permanent pancreatic damage
To Sue permanent vascular damage
To Jerri permanent psychosis and vascular damage
…and so forth.
In Memoriam. These were comrades whom I had; there are no better. They remain in my mind, and the enemy will never be forgiven. The ‘enemy’ was their mistake in playing. Let them all play again, in some other way, and let them be happy.
I always found that part somewhat connected to our community everytime I saw the film.
Surreal...
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nah the lines of divison in this world are pedophiles and everyone against pedophiles
like not gonna lie, this is how a summer friday morning would go, we'd start talking about some chomo we can't get rid of, and on Tuesday his family/coworkers will stop by wondering where he/s been all weekend and that'd be that.
It's unfortunate that we've had to read this child sex posts this long.
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