Stymied

Rummaging through my mind, I note I've been making several posts a day for some time in lieu of involving myself with corruption and depravity. I'd love to go have a listen to the Rocket 88s this evening but I'd never plead anything from a sadistic floozy I'm just going to have to wait out until she's moved on to a more sophisticated clientele. Awfully inconvenient, that's about the size of it. All she needs to do is fetch... I don't see the problem.

Ha... my existence makes her feel uncomfortable; this is my problem for which I should be inconvenienced in the land of liberty? Pathetic. What a hypocrite, a loser. Really, a loser blames someone else for a problem they created. How was I to know she was a sex worker? That wasn't my initial impression nor conventional evaluation. Talk about cognitive dissonance! I think that's what makes her feel so, to encounter decency. Innocence, if you will. But I don't know. It's all most bizarre and one just does not want to go there. 

Yeah, should have a psychic rummage sale. Get rid of all the conundrums. I hope I get over this sense of injustice. For now, one copes thus, the words flow uninterrupted and a beautiful mind organizes a strike while keeping the thoughts within reason.

There's a reason for everything. Rather than rendezvous with the decadent hipsters, I'll just lie back in my easy chair and wonder. Not for long. Up and at 'em momentarily.