A Rich Poor Man

‘One who makes his own time is truly a rich man.’

The closest I could remember, from Henning Mankell’s Wallander: “The Leak.”

But I have no control.  Work with no pay.  “Too much time on my hands” and busy.

(Of course that expression had more to do with self-reliance, but on with my blather…)

I could watch the following episode of Wallander, “The Sniper.”  Or, the latest episode of Mad Men.  But not both, no.  AMC often comes in loaded with interference— one of the high channels.

I could relate with about no one watching the Swedish former, which includes dates going back to 2008, or I could relate with the wrong people with the latter, now or never, watching something that even Entertainment Weekly is finding a bit not-so-fresh.

(And by “relate with the wrong people,” I mean, come on— you should get by now how I refuse to be a cog in the system so I could be a “real” person.  A cubicle?  @$%# !  (And that’s if I’m lucky!) )

My mother then wanted to flip a coin over the two.  I hate that.  I absolutely hate that.  Subjective “random” to fix a more-or-less superficial problem caused by the fact that no one in this real dump of a house is responsible, one reason or another.

I could and would instead take that hidden third, persistent option, and just drop out, go back to the software I work on again.

Once something fails, usually when not if, where it becomes exhausting or dishonest, I end up going back to that outset option.  More used to it, more in my nature.  After all, it’s the only goddamn control I have.

I’m not lazy.  I refuse to kill myself doing nothing.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m no nerd— if you went into Dungeons and Dragons, World of Warcraft or other “nerd stuff,” I wouldn’t know what you’d be talking about.  Then again, I know nothing.

But don’t get me wrong the other way too— seeing the 11:11, the ‘reminder’— “hold onto that thought” lately, the kinds of thoughts that roll around in my head at those times: trite technical things, like 24-to-30 frame-per-second conversion, duplicate every fourth frame.

It’s this lifestyle, the same insecure, empty blah, where doing anything else means “getting nowhere.”  There’s too much risk going forward alone with no other skill. No control but that.  Dead in the water (not a title), etc.…

Now with an even narrower “schedule.”

I could cover The Ends of the Earth (also not a title)… or sheer stupidity, as blogging (blahgging) still becomes one of those distractions at best in my résumé-free, criminal record-free prison life.  What’s the use of keeping up with what I don’t need to keep up with?  You don’t need me, do you?

I end up posting to combat the silence on my part.  Or rather, silence here, as I cover the “general” news on the other site…

Yeah, in obvious need of help, but I can only do what I do…


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