Terminal documents/deleted diary
00:B
I had no money and I was looking for a job. I use to work all types of odd jobs ,but now I can’t. I do not have the energy. I was pretty desperate until I saw this guy from school that told me about a job that he once did when he was hard up for some cash: selling books door to door. Anyway I got dressed with my black suit and I had a pair of black socks. But the fucked up thing was that the socks were full of holes. I remembered this old guy from the shelter telling me his trick. So I picked up a black felt pen that I had. I stretched my socks up as much as I could and I started filling in the holes with the black ink. I stood in front of the mirror, pulled up my pants and looked at the socks-they looked ok. So I went down to the office and sat down next to these other guys that were waiting for a job. And I just kept waiting. I poured myself a coffee and picked up a magazine. I started reading. As I was reading I crossed my legs. Anyway I was still waiting. And I looked at this guy across from me. He was staring at me. I thought-another pissed off motherfucker who thinks I might get the job and he might not. Whatever. But he was really staring. And I looked at his eyes. And I looked at where he was looking. And he was looking at my legs. At my feet. I looked down. My socks had slipped down to my ankles and all you could see where black dots of ink. The ink that was filling in the holes in my socks. And my fucking feet looked like they had some rare disease.
I just left.
That was the last time .
Living from day to day is easier.
It's what they say.
I had no money and I was looking for a job. I use to work all types of odd jobs ,but now I can’t. I do not have the energy. I was pretty desperate until I saw this guy from school that told me about a job that he once did when he was hard up for some cash: selling books door to door. Anyway I got dressed with my black suit and I had a pair of black socks. But the fucked up thing was that the socks were full of holes. I remembered this old guy from the shelter telling me his trick. So I picked up a black felt pen that I had. I stretched my socks up as much as I could and I started filling in the holes with the black ink. I stood in front of the mirror, pulled up my pants and looked at the socks-they looked ok. So I went down to the office and sat down next to these other guys that were waiting for a job. And I just kept waiting. I poured myself a coffee and picked up a magazine. I started reading. As I was reading I crossed my legs. Anyway I was still waiting. And I looked at this guy across from me. He was staring at me. I thought-another pissed off motherfucker who thinks I might get the job and he might not. Whatever. But he was really staring. And I looked at his eyes. And I looked at where he was looking. And he was looking at my legs. At my feet. I looked down. My socks had slipped down to my ankles and all you could see where black dots of ink. The ink that was filling in the holes in my socks. And my fucking feet looked like they had some rare disease.
I just left.
That was the last time .
Living from day to day is easier.
It's what they say.
posted by Vinqo Denken at 5:29 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home