Home and Home

Hola, motherfuckers!

I'm still mad, but the further my distance from social networking, the better I feel. I'm no scientist, but I believe there is a correlation, however specious that connection may be due to lack of serious study. 

Anyway, bastards, since I haven't blogged in quite some time, I need to give you some context you can use to frame what I write.  Some things have changed.  I no longer live or work in Satan's Anus.  I work and live back in my original home town. With my "new" job, where I've been for a couple of years now, I've greatly increased my stress level and my responsibility level.  Because of my responsibility, I make powerful enemies on a regular basis. These are people who are politically connected locally and nationally, who are petty and ego-driven, who don't give a fuck what they leave in their wake.  They have effectively killed the last vestiges of my political interest. 

In addition, being back home means that old shit, shit that I'd left behind and quite frankly forgotten about, resurfaces from time to time.  I see a familiar face and I gravitate to that person, only to remember that it's a motherfucker that betrayed me or a chick I dated that ended badly.  Or just an unpleasant person to be around.  My fucking memory is betraying me, causing me problems. I have essentially one friend here, aside from my wife, and a bunch a cats that are supposed to have my back that gossip and talk shit. 

The best thing about my change is that my wife gets to be close to her family.  I have no family here. They all left the D a while ago.  The black community is here, somewhat.  Culturally, it's been great to be back, but  I really despise most of these Africans. That goes back to the symbols I talked about in my last post.  There is very little distinction between reality and a placeholder/symbol that's in place to represent the real.  Yes, this is a recurring theme.

That's all for now.  I'll be back,
KZ