I think we lost our Pearl today.

The best dog.

Good bye.




Peace.

June 11, 2007. Twenty years ago I lost the use of my legs in a motorcycle accident.

I needed to at least post an entry commemorating the event.

Strong or weak? I've endured twenty years, but was it because I was such a chicken shit that I couldn't just call it all off?

Its hard.

Peace.

Still unemployed. Interesting predicament. I really like not having to go to work. I don't like the fact that we are going to run out of cash in the next couple of months. I'm also starting to get pressure from Beth to get a job. I can probably hold her off for a while, but she is correct, its time to get off my ass and go look.

Yuck.

I'm floating around in fog. I don't seem to have the impetus to do pretty much anything around the house. I can't stand the clutter, but I think I've finally been conditioned enough to not touch the junk in fear of near godlike retribution. I know I'm exaggerating, but the one-side argument that involves being psychologically unable to get rid of piles of shit is wearing me out.

My involvement in the gaming community is starting to lose its luster. I am becoming way to dependent on a bunch of people's bodiless voices for my entertainment. They are friends, sort of, considering that I've never met any of them in person.

More later.

Peace.