Insecurities and Exchange: Getting the Crap Out

First off, this has nothing to do with the Securities and Exchange Commission, the commission that, created under near-dictator F.D.R., doesn’t even do its job.  Oh, and End the Fed.

This is the attempt to cap the ‘alienation’ tag here, getting all the crap out, no matter how ugly, and moving on.  It contains text set aside in writing “Saga of Suck.”  Hopefully, I’ll never have to use the tag ever again.  I cut out the “depression” for…next time.

One more thing: you don’t see me really promoting Movember ’cause it’d be hypocritical, already sporting a ’stache, mental illness, and a need to see that urologist.

Special Ed Hybrid

Textbooks are horrible.  I broke down at around age ten.  Long story short, my misbehavior got me shoved into a schedule of being in Special Ed half the time; “normal” classes, one quarter; the rest, nothing.

Alone-Time

I estimate that I’ve been physically alone for over 46% of my life; spiritually and intellectually, over 80%.  I am mostly to blame, making bad choices.  And I don’t have a sound formula for those calculations.  Did I mention I’m stupid?

Many in this day of age would’ve just signed up on Facebook.  I have never created a Facebook account because 1) the site is known for identity theft, burglaries and vitriol, and 2) I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo; what the hell am I doing here?  I don’t belong here
—Radiohead.

The alternative I chose, and possibly inappropriate for me: WordPress.
Why do I say ‘possibly inappropriate’?  I take some things way too personally, and have a past of dabbling into hysteria—just to humor myself…and it got out of control.

But now, time has run out.  There’s the election and the economic collapse that advances the path in destruction of currencies, restoring that old system of bartering.  And that Division of Jerusalem I mentioned before is okay by the Israeli President.

And “everybody’s off doing NaNo WriMo”—National November Writing Month, something I’d fail at; my life experience is next to nothing.  My best writing comes to me in dreams.  —What, should I stay in bed all day to achieve those 1,667 words?

“Hang In There!”

Yeah…the cat on that poster has been dead for decades now.
You lose your senses when you’re so alone like me.

Oh, shit.
Le Clown started following since the broken link comment.

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