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Mike iLL

| | | — | | My man who wanted to invest in putting my records out is in the nut house again. Isn’t it ironic. Wouldn’t mind going there for a while myself. Seems like everyone I know could use it.

Distress, depression and unemployment are rampant around here since the September 11th incident. These ones just got fired, this one swallowed a bottle of pills, these 10 are on their way to a funeral, wake or memorial service. Going out of business.

Never write in this journal anymore ‘cause I have a girlfriend now and she needs her goddam TIME, and I’m supposed to act like a goddam HUMAN, and we’re supposed to life in a HOME instead of a flea bitten cell housing the tools of poverty and struggle; art. Ha.

And I’m so negative and fucking cynical and I don’t realize that politicians are people too, just trying to do what they can just like me or you. I’m an outcast and a nut ‘cause I believe that property is theft and New York (and Hollywood) is Babylon, and that the world might not be any more chaotic without laws and cops and hierarchy.

But as my main man Latch says (from his post on Jim D’s couch), “Waddo-Eye-No?”.

So it’s 6 in the morning, mosquitoes and snot forced me from sleep and these pre-arthritic fingers are getting dusty off this old Mac-top. My friends are getting day jobs, siblings buying houses and having babies and my homeboys are smoking pot (if they can get it - military state around here), stuffing their noses or getting committed. My heroes are getting killed fighting against the global capital empire which I’m too simple-minded and idealistic to understand or explain, but just have a feeling against.

And even though yesterday was my birthday and I’m WAY the fuck past twenty-one, it’s so hard to act like the emperor’s wearing clothes and society is not so bad, and there’s no such thing as “the rich” and no-one conspires agains the poor and third world and bla bla fucking bla to the mother-fucking shit fuck scum piss rot.

Let’s see if we can dial on up and put this bad boy on the web. And if anyone ever looks at this web-diary anymore hopefully you’ll laugh (you know I love you), and I’ll go to church in a few hours and sing “Ave Mareeeeeeeiiiiaaah” at some stragers wedding for fifty bucks and enjoy another day of middle class existence.

Love, mike

14/03/2001