Oh my, at the time of this writing, it is quite late. I've been up for perhaps 19 hours, which is actually too long, and is probably a dream for working-class folk (which I am not).
One of the only things I can look well to in terms of developments, in any way, shape, or form, is that I sent out yet another letter to my special someone. That special someone is the one in the picture found in the previous article. For the first time in, say, many years perhaps, I had sent/included a card with the letter. It's a "Miss You" type, but that's the best I could do, since the most luxurious card market I could touch in this berg was the local Wal-Mart (again, a periodical source of guilt for whenever I go through it's doors).
Well, I may be forgetting something else, and that is I had signed up for some online work-at-home gig of which I saw in the paper. It isn't needless to say that there was ONE LOUSY LISTING FOR "Help Wanted" IN THIS DAMN SHIT HOLE'S NEWSPAPER, this one was among the half dozen other listings under that category in Woodstock's good ol' classifieds (the back of which consisted, for what occupied half of it's surface, religious media advertisements and a moniker that screams propaganda, "THE LORD IS COMING"). I am, as usual with some things, skeptical about it's legitimacy and ability to help me earn money. But, what can I say? I at least put some effort into taking any measure to get out of this awful town.
As time passes, my pessimism for the near future grows. It is like a weed; as time goes on, the weed grows. We've all heard that metaphor before but that's what I am thinking of anyway. I know that there's most likely only one or two events that could help me get out of here, and that is either my step dad getting a job or position someplace else in the province, or my family is stricken with too much luck and wins the lottery. I can't see the latter, but I am a bit cynical towards the former as well. Ah, well, this may not be a healthy way of looking at things. It's hard to defeat though. I try to combat the brooding pessimism in me all the time with all due honesty, but my pessimism may be winning. It is probably why I sunk to the level of analyzing and even taking interest in online survey pages throughout the World Wide Web.
Then again, patience is a need for my situation here. I need to grab any opportunities by the horns and wrestle it under my full control, but this town is like a desolate pasture of very few 'horns' to grab onto. I'll keep my goal of escaping from here in my number one priority slot in my memory banks, but in the meantime, I have some ongoing war with cynicism that needs to end. It's not good for such a presence to exist in these hard times for me.
Oh and please, don't make me out as an "Emo" or a depression case, as I am far from either (I am against conformity so being an Emo is far from my interests).
