I went out to the garage several minutes ago for a cigarette. I stood in front of the garage door and let the cool breeze flow over me. The dark clouds gliding above, threating to pour rain down on my head. Although not much, it did drizzle a little while I was out there. Anyway, the next door neighbor walked over and had asked if it was alright to park his truck on the right side of the driveway. I remembered "V" having issues with it, but it's just me here. No other vehicle except for the Boulevard M90 and the Xterra. I informed him that it was fine. I remember how he tends block a little of my driveway, but it made no difference to me. He mentioned how bad the economy affected him and how hard it was to find work. I told him I knew exactly how he felt being that I had lost my job several months ago. He said something that made me want to right this post. In Spanish, he said, "It seems that the dream is temporary".

I happen to agree at the moment.

So I sit here, day after day, waiting and hoping for a call that never arrives. Do you know how frustrating this is! Anyway, before...I figured that my ex-employer would give me a call and tell me how much they wanted me back. After what...three months, I guess that's not the case anymore. Stupid, huh? I have too much education to just jump into the fast food industry and not enough to jump into another professional career. It sucks to be stuck in the middle of all this shit and come out smelling like a failure. Why am I not more stressed? Why aren't I in tears yet? Why don't I feel cold despair and utter grief? What psychological imbalance do I suffer from now? It's almost as if I stopped caring, or stopped wanting to care. I need to rage against this disappointment, but I find that I can't even cry. My severance will cover me for three more months, tops. Is that the reason? Are those three months coverage keeping me from feeling? Will it be a different story when those three months are up? FUCK!

I'm tired of trying to feel normal. Actually, I'm tired of the backstabbers and double-talkers. I'm tired of the deceptive cronies...those Umpa-Lumpas who would burn you with a song and a dance to advance their own objectives. I WOULD HAVE GIVEN YOU THE FREAKING RIGHT-OF-WAY, BUNG-HOLE!! I'm tired of the massive shining I've been getting. Don't shine me on...It's beneath you and I really don't deserve it!

What can I do. Not really a question, just a conclusion to a desolate existence. I did my best...or did I??? I really don't know anymore. I want to care but what happens to a soul when the body no longer feels? Oddly enough, it feels strong and intact. But where does that strength come from? I fear to know the answer because it may lead down a dark corridor into an abyss I may never find my way out of.

I see the things that surround me and they stir nothing inside me. No despair, no achievement...all I feel is the location, the time and space that I have assumed as my own. All I feel is this 3rd-Dimensional blob of existence. Sorry Mr. Thomas, the rage against the dieing of the light has flickered and gone out. Oops! Anyone got matches?!?

So, when it rains, it pours.

I just got off the phone with the IRS about extra taxes I had to pay in 2008 because I had paid off some of my debt. You see, I was intemperate in my youth. I over-indulged and I really didn't forsee consequences of my actions till late in my life. Anyway, finally I had a way to solve certain issues and I felt exillerated when I finally got that monkey of my back. Didn't realize that Ceasar was buying his time.

Anyway, it stings to know that there's really nothing I can do about it but give to Ceasar what is Ceasars.

Still haven't found a job. I guess I'll have to start looking at manual labor jobs. I used to think "Manuel Labor" was a Cuban baseball player:)

Enjoy your day and stay out of the rain.

Last week, I decided to not search for a job atleast a day or so. I never realized how stressful it actually was. Anyway, I decided to load up my P220 and head to the range. I hadn't been there in a while and I just needed to shoot off some rounds to make sure my P220 was still in operation. I don't go to know how good or bad I am at shooting my weapon. I just go to clear my mind and to give the P220 its longing to be what it is.

So I arrive, go into the store and buy ammo and two targets and then head to the range and stand behind the yellow line while the line is hot. Then, this family rolls up totally inexperienced to the range. I determined that one was mother, then there was father, and two male siblings and a femme fatale. Actually, they were all "fatales". The mother didn't know that the barrel of the gun she was playing with was supposed to stay down range. Let's just say that it had been a while that I feared for my life. Then the brother with an NYCPD shirt on (He came to work) kept haranging the younger brother about how bad he was with his .40 cal. The younger brother didn't acknowledge his older brother as he laughed at him. I thought that was pretty strong of him. They went along and kept my fear level high.

Another thing that pissed me off was the fact that none of them ever cleaned their respective weapons. From all the miss fires and heavy smoke eminating from the guns, everytime there was a miss fire the hand would twist and the barrel would be aimed straight at my head. WTF!!!! Some people shouldn't have guns at all. These individuals were part of that select group.

And all throughout that time, the older brother still harrassed the younger and the mother, while the line was hot, stepped out to take pictures of everyone. When I say step out, I mean that she literally stepped in front of the benches to take pictures. She basically stood between the target and the shooter. She quite easily made herself a target.

I heard the missfires atleast four times in the 15 minutes I fired the last of my rounds. And the last time I saw that much smoke coming from barrels, I was shooting black powder from my 1861 Colt Revolver. Replica, of course. I'm not saying that I was in the Civil War, just studied it.

I couldn't find anything else to tell you out there, if you're still listening. I just wanted something interesting for you to read. Be aware of your surroundings at all time. If you go to the range, don't assume that just because there are rules posted around you that you are safe. There is hot lead slicing through the air at over 900 feet per second and there is still the unpredictable nature of man.