Please Make This Post Suck

Pardon my Swedish but I'm not feeling too well. Too much work, not enough dough. The works. You may know what that's like. The best thing I can think of to somehow love my life is to remind myself I still have a job. Not everyone is that fortunate. So what's with the title? It reflects how I feel, is all. Good thing I'm not a professional writer. I'd have to fire my own ass right now. And that's quite some ass.

So how are you today? Do you have dreams? 

Do you have what it takes to be a winner? Do you want to be a winner? 
Do you think you look good? I think you do.
Don't you think life's too short to care entertain yourself with such superficialities? Such trivialities? Like Blogger Board? Like dating? Like loving? Like missing your dead relatives? Like... everything? 
Shouldn't you be more zen and less like me?
How does zen change the fact that less than a hundred years from now no one will remember you? You tell me that and I'll marry you. 

Someone once said to someone else Blue doesn't sound blue. Well, no one knows anyone. All these questions racing through my head make me doubt my sanity. 

Sanity... what the hell is that? 

Boy, I need to lie down. This freaking sarcoidosis is killing me. I need sunshine. Or a real person to talk to. Real as in forthright, honest, human and genuinely caring. I'm sick of fake people. People without a sense of humor. People who think we should all be walking on eggshells. Fake smiles. Stabs in the back. Sunshine, please. A bit will do just fine. Or a cure.

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