Iglesias, Iglesias.

In first Lord Of the Rings movies Gandalf goes to confer with Saruman the leader of his order. He assumes that he will give him some kind of advice as to how to handle the problem of the one ring. As they talk Gandalf quickly figures out that Saruman has gone over to the dark side. To Sauron's side. Saruman asks Gandalf to join with him and Sauron to which Gandalf replies 'Tell me friend, when did Saruman the wise abandon reason for madness?'. I have abandoned reason for madness. I have thrown common sense and my own wellbeing aside and put in its stead insanity, and bedlam. Why do I do this? How does this make sense? Fuckin A. Can't even seem to talk to some woman online. Always got to be godamn competition. Nothing ever seems to go quite right.

No redeeming qualities.

'And I can remember after getting my 6th DUI and going to jail and losing my wife and thats really when I hit rock bottom.....' Chuck felt himself dozing off as he listening to the long sad tale that he had heard with some variation for ten years. The same story in AA meetings and later in his work. It was almost as if the whole thing were scripted, some kind of elaborate farce put on for some diabolical purpose. I'm a fraud, Chuck thought quickly gazing up to the clock. He suddenly realized that eyes were on him and he came back from his daze. 'Ok lets good Todd, does anyone else want to share?' 'Wait, what should I do?' Todd asked. 'Do about what?' Chuck waiting to form an answer before another girl chimed in 'What i've is that for my recovery..' He spaced out again. He had been nursing a blistering hangover for the better part of the day. At first it seemed like it had gone away but it seemed to come back in spurts. It was ridiculous he knew him standing here in front of all these people attempting to advise them on their substance abuse problem. He had been there before, and come back, and then gone again. He didn't hit the sauce like he used to but still enough to make him feel unqualified for the job. Still at this point he was skating he knew it all so well and they all seemed to like and respect him. Chuck opened his eyes, the girl was still speaking. They all seemed like shallow husks. People deprived of their drug of choice and the state of mind that accompanied it. She seemed to have been talking for hours, he got out at five and it was only ten past four. The hand on the clock seemed to tick by like when he was a kid in school waiting for it to get out. He knew he could not go on forever. He had already received several dirty looks from some of the nurses and staff when he came in with red eyes, disheveled, looking as if he hadn't slept in days. He would shrug it off saying that he was only 'trying out a new look,' but he knew they knew. Or at least has some idea what was going on. Still his co-workers had always like him and he always figured thats why no one ratted him out. He looked up at the clock 4:56, thank god Chuck thought. 'All right that was a good session.' He said and they started to arise. Shit most of them don't want to be there either, Chuck thought. He walked down the hall as briskly as he could without attracting suspicion. I'm a fraud. It hounded him in his head as he headed out of the building into the parking lot. It hounded him the very moment he woke up in the morning and set foot in the hospital. It haunted him in his dreams. That everyone his co-workers, the patients and everyone he worked with would be mocking him, denouncing him for his hypocrisy. He felt the sharp sting of shame when he woke up in the morning and remembered who he was. He walked out into the warm air, it had been blisteringly hot the whole day and Chuck pondered going to the local watering hole for a few beers. A few being probably at least five, six if he could afford it, and a few shots. The sun hit his eyes square on as he got into the car. This is longest fucking hangover i've ever had. If indeed he could remember the hangovers themselves because he used to remedy it with more drinking. Now he mainly drank on the weekends but when he drank it was always in large quantities. He pulled out of the parking lot unto the street. The liquor store was right across the street and he found a spot right in front. The Korean lady who owned the store always seemed to give him a stare of contempt. When he bought his usual six pack and three nips of whiskey. He walked into the store with a feeling of triumph and despair, triumph because he had made it through the the day, despair because he was going to the liquor store again. The air conditioning felt nice on his skin as he walked in, he always like to take a second to look around. The lady did not like that either. He walked to the cooler and got his usual six pack of becks and sauntered up to the counter. He liked to be especially nice to the lady, oblivious to her contempt. He noticed the lady had already had the three nips on the counter as he approached. She glanced at the six-pack and said in a derisive tone 'anything else.' Chuck smiled, 'Yes please just two of the beam.' She slowly moved over and grabbed the two bottles as if hoping he would just go away. She and rang in the order and he handed her the bills. She ponderously handed over the change. 'Thank you, have a nice day.' He said in a jubilant voice. He walked out taking two of the nips out of the back and into his shirt pocket. The heat blasted him as he walked out into the parking lot and got to his car. He unlocked the doors and opened them putting the six into the backseat. He got into the front and extracted a beer from the back. He opened it with his lighter and took a swig. What a day, he thought.

As far as i'm concerned, your fired.

People are fucking idiots. A prime example of this lies in history. During the first battle of the Civil war citizens, and various politicians from Washington gathered upon the battlefield to see the battle. During the Union retreat which eventually followed the armies got tangled up with the carriages of the spectators. Anyone who has a desire to actually witness combat obviously has something wrong with them. But anyone who has prolonged exposure to human beings has likely come to the same conclusion I have. That the average person is not particularly bright. Especially large groups of people. Angry mobs. No good had ever come from large amounts of people congregating with feelings of rage.

Nothing vanishes without a trace.

It was during the beginning of the third straight hour of Law and Order that Mike began to ponder how his life got this way. Sitting on his old couch with pizza boxes and cartons of Chinese takeout strewn across his room that he began to wonder why. At first he had refused to watch Law and Order refused to give in. But as he slowly became aware of the pitiful array of television programming offered during the day he gave in. He took a sip of his 40. The cold liquid felt good going down and the warmth spread to the rest of him. It was his second of the day and as he was halfway through it the effects were finally starting to materialize. TV was a strange beast Mike thought. Every channel seemed to be straight blocks of the same programming and all of the shows used in those vast blocks seemed to be the ones with the least artistic merit. Still he had slowly gotten used to Law and Order and gotten into the cases. Still it seemed strange that they had to run it so many times in the day and that there were so many versions of it. Damn I am so unemployed, Mike thought taking another long draw from the 40. They had fired him at the supermarket for drinking at the end of June and he had been just barely able to pay for the July rent. Then a few weeks after he had gotten his unemployment. Now as August approached he knew the next week was going to be tough. The endless commercials irritated him too, all of the ones for schools, and training programs. It was as if the marketers knew that a vast bloc of unemployed losers was watching TV at a given time and wanted to capitalize on it. Mike got up from the couch and found a few roaches from the other day on the living room table. They were small but just barely enough to satisfy his craving. He picked up his bong the ground and placed it on the table. Time for good times he thought