Day No.24

Rubba rubba ching ching,
Days torn or fade ding-a-ling,
Wash and wear, pants that flare
Diminish the thought (don’t stare)

Seriously, 2 weeks is nothing. A lot of sweat, 250 machine gun blanks, 100 M-16 blanks, 2 sleepless nights. Cold food, cussing, swearing, bad jokes, card games, round of street soccer, playing enemy alien. 2 down, 5 to go. Finish when I’m at my peak, 31.

Where’s the inherent bias? Why can’t humans erase all that? The sight of humans makes me biased. Perhaps it’s asking me to make a choice. I’ll have Anthropology for $400, Alex. What is the basis of human nature? Correct.

Friday, I have an appointment with Mr. Hough. He’s giving me music therapy. Could always rely on KG to come with me. Oh Sergio, you always had such big hands. Give me a hand, will you? But you’re nowhere to be found; I’m still agnostic, really. Confused as ever, indecisive, but I want to dance to the sounds of waltz. Johann, lend me a hand. Oh bother, where are you?

People come and go. We create meanings and embed them in society. For better or for worse. I pronounce you man and wife. Cough.