Walkin' through the Jungle wringin' wet
One half blood and the other half sweat
I saw somethin' movin' up ahead of me
he was tryin' to hide in a bamboo tree
I put my cross hairs on his chest
and his sorry ass to rest
Now you can tell his moma in old Hanoi
She just lost her darlin' boy
*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*
Scattered thoughts, random thoughts, not sure what to think anymore. So many issues and so little time. My head feels like it's about ready to explode with all these thoughts. I need to quiet them down with vodka and tequila. I think I maybe turning into an alcoholic, even though my family doesn't have a history of alcoholism, or at least I don't think... I would like to believe that I have been such a responsible person up until this point, but it seems that the feeling is leaving me. Thoughts of just dropping all responsibilities and selling everything, getting a laptop and just wonder about the country.
I do have an obligation to fulfill so I can't just do that now. I'm not going to slack off just because I want to leave. I'm going to continue doing what I have to do, at the same pace. Someday, maybe, you just might see me wondering the streets as that person talking to the imaginary companions with the long shaggy beard, pushing a grocery cart with Samantha in it. Instead of begging for money, I'd be begging for an internet connection and a power outlet to charge up my mp3 player and laptop.
I could train Samantha to hunt and catch wild rabbits and squirrels, then I wouldn't have to eat out of garbage cans. I definitely would keep my fishing pole, cause I could catch fish, just to mix up the diet.
つづく ( To be continued... )
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