The loose belt, tight wallet, and the first drink…

I don’t what to do. I find my stream of bad luck getting worse. I don’t understand, but it’s seems to not stop. I don’t know how else to vent, since I hardly have anyone to talk to… I just… I know that I said it would be the last I would be posting on here, but here.

I found myself in a Hooter’s parking lot due to my truck overheating. After much investigation, I found the belt routed around the alternator and water pump was chewed up, loose and just hanging there. Looking at it I was hoping that some kind of magic would fix it on it’s own. But no… I sat there in the parking lot, hitting myself and asking “why me?”

It’s not that I was ignoring this problem. I know this was coming. And to be honest, I was planning to make an unannounced trip to AZ. The time I was took off for the show in Tijuana(ended up being cancelled), I was going to use it for a road trip. I know I needed some repairs on the truck and saved up some money for all of my belt to be replaced and two new front tires I found in clearance for 19 bucks each. But sure enough, the repair was much need now than later.

I stared at my truck for a while. Looking for answer in the parking lot, in the dumpster, and in an apple. I don’t get why it’s happening to me. I save up money for these repairs and a place to called “home”, but it’s sooner than later and I’m one step forward, ten steps back. Cancelling my trip, I’m back to square one.

I don’t know where I’m going with life. I don’t know how long I’m going to be homeless. I don’t know if I am going back to AZ. I don’t know even if I wanted to.

So, with myself being in a Hooter’s parking lot. Waiting for a tow truck, I went in Hooter’s to have a beer. My first one in over a month. Since the night. I never hate myself and bar culture at once, but I’ve dealt with it. It wasn’t till after the second beer I stopped caring. The bros around me was annoying as fuck and I couldn’t stand the environment of this Hooter’s. I mean, it’s the first one I’ve ever been to, but it didn’t matter after now the third tall beers in me.

Overall, what’s the point in anything? I can’t even plan an surprising trip without shit happening sooner than expected. Goes to show that I can’t even go back home if I wanted to.

I just don’t know anymore.

Tags: personal

In fucking fact Ms. Robinson the world won’t care whether you live or die.

(Source: rukukamato)

This means a lot to me.

This means a lot to me.