Midnight Ramblings

Thursday August 27, 2020

How the hell are you?

You’re reading The Hey Eliott Blog. The most least read blog in all of blogs. Well, I don’t know what world you are getting your information from and if it’s all kittens and lollipops, or complete willful ignorance; then God bless you, you are in a world that I envy. I wish I could have no desire for information. I wish I could have only read one book and if the world says otherwise, it’s unholy. In my world, I see new protests with a riot appetizer. Isn’t it strange how when other countries riot or protest it is seen as a social revolution or a sign that something has to change. In America it is seen as destruction of property or disruptive or even a false flag operation headed up by the deep state and George Soros. I’ve said it time and time again and I will say it once again. I am easily corruptible. Mr. Soros I’m here for you. I’m like that guy who gets shot in the head in Die Hard. “Soros, Bubee, we can make a deal” Look I’m not saying I would partake in what Epstein had to offer, but video would surface with me standing next to Trump and Epstein making a stupid face and dancing with my forearms and shoulders. So. Mr. Soros, If you want me to put on a ski mask and light a piggly wiggly on fire, I’ll do it for the right price. In old work news, you know, the grocery store. One of the stores by the same name is closing. Not the one I put the hex on though. That one is still going strong. It’s like a woman who broke your heart and you hope she loses a foot in a shark attack, but she’s perfectly happy, healthy, and has a good job. Whatever. The hex still stands. My new job however, is going alright. I’m getting the hang of it. It can’t last forever. It’s like a weigh station for lost souls. Night People. They are a different clientele. Always suspicious. In the corner of my eye I can see their heads snap over to me as I turn the corner. As if they expected the executioner of their fate has arrived and now comes the time for their judgement before the Lord. or something like that. Their is a straightforwardness one must exude. you have to show them that you won’t cheat them and you won’t be cheated. On the other hand, at the grocery store you’re only promised is not to add to the onslaught of misery that they continue to pile onto themselves. Day people. In other news. I am a fan of sports now. In my new place of business, I get to watch a lot of it. I kinda like these crowd less environments, It’s as if the players can actually compete instead of trying to perform. And since The Washington Redskins have changed their name to the Washington Football team, I am now a fan. I might even buy a sweater or something. I am still buying lottery tickets. If I can win before Trump steals the election, I would feel a little better. I feel okay now that I’ve stood for the ideals I’m partial too. I’ve been on the fence for too long. Trying to hear both sides of the argument and mull over the results. I realized that it’s just a stall tactic that helps the people who want no progression because they’re making it just fine without any positive change.

I don’t listen to the Joe Rogan Experience any more. I think the decision came during one of his podcasts during the shutdown. He mentioned people on the left and non-gendered bathrooms, which I have to tell you, was a moment in time between 2014 and 2016 and the only people who still bring it up are people who lean right. Listen to these guys bloviate over this idea and no ones arguing with them, because it was a suggestion that got blown out of proportion. Joe Rogan is a man who has been well off since 1995 and has had yes men surrounding him all his life. He talks down to his listeners. If they enjoy video games, it’s a waste of time. If they are depressed, they just aren’t living like he is. If they do anything other than stand up comedy, they are miserable in their cubicles. Then he flaunts his expensive daily routine as if it’s perfectly normal. And now he’s moving to Texas because of the “Poor People”. It’s guys like that who have a platform that reaches millions, but all they do is spew alt-right talking points. And act as if people on the left are just children still wearing their pussy hats. When Jo Rogan says things about Donald Trump being funny it annoys me. Trump would be funny if he weren’t the president of the United States of America. I use to think comedians had a line of thought that could see through the dark and bring something out of that, that is almost a prediction of the future. But I see now, most of them are just really good at yelling their punchlines. I’m still a fan of stand up, but maybe I’ll start focusing on what I can create. Because I’m sick of listening to these comedians sprinkle fairy dust on their past. Reliving every moment at every given chance to show how they made it to the top of mount Olympus. how a few months of hardship for them has become this romantic 12 years in a prison cell. They talk about a summer delivering papers as if it were actually heavy labor. They don’t make podcasts for people anymore. They make podcasts to circle jerk each other off because if they keep hyping each other up, people will be tricked into thinking they are hearing something funny. instead of the same alt-right leaning punchlines that is just emphasized differently.

In my apartment complex. There’s a guy who is one of Scrump’s buddies. He has a slight mental disability. And his neighbor is this sketchy guy who slinks around and can be seen with several other shirtless like-minded individuals. Well during the shut down, I would see the sketchy guy and scrump’s buddy walking alone at the park or walking towards the park in the middle of the nights. Lately, Scrump’s buddy and another old lady are up at all hours drinking and scrump’s buddy seems more irritable than usual. My guess is the neighbor guy has him hooked on something. He’s one of those type of people who come into your life and offer you trouble and when trouble takes over, he is gone. There is not much I can do. The creepy methheads are gone. Which is a nice touch.

S.o.s

As I sit here on my break the urge to flee the country is real. I no longer want to live in a country where your government doesn’t care about its citizens nor do I want to live in a country where neighbors don’t care about each other. I feel like I’ve gone mad. Like I’m the only one who sees the death going on in this country. Like I’m the main character in They live. It’s fucking weird.

Eliott A.
Old Age in the time of the Sluggish 20s

I am starting to have the self realization that my upcoming 35th birthday is the start of my early middle age. It doesn’t physically feel that way. If I were to pass away this morning I would be called, “only 35”. I’ve wasted my first half by pushing all the right people away. Making choices that slowed any growth. Treating my body like a food dumpster.

35. Girls don’t look at you and women are too smart for your bullshit. I had the ancient urge to talk to a woman this morning. Any woman. But it went away when I looked around my beat up smelly apartment and my out of shape barrel body. I’ve never been a closer with women to begin with, and with my current body dysmorphia it would be a lot more difficult. It’s hard to actually put yourself out there when you know how wrong it could possibly go.

35. I’ve got to get into the mindset that I should have had ten years ago. Start piling money away for older age. Come on 35+35=70. Who knows what the world is going to look like when I’m seventy. Who knows if I would even make it another 35 years. With this serious truth how can I go on with the rest of my life?

I’ve already treated the first half like I was dead. So how can I truly live my last half? Eating healthy and remembering pizza like an old childhood friend? Drinking Earl Grey Tea and remembering coffee like a high school sweetheart? Maybe Drinking water and remembering wine as I would a summer fling.

I always knew I needed to change the way i’ve been living if I ever wanted to see the ocean again, see the concrete jungles of the world. Maybe it is time. Shrug off the first half and start a new. New Names. New Places and New Experiences. I know as 35 trudges ever closer, I have to be better. More distinguished and have more God Damn self-respect.

I’m not making any promises. We’ll see.

Eliott A.