Icarus's blog: "Just South of Blue."

I got a job.
It's not great, I've had worse, and it doesn't physically harm me.
I've got a nut job sniffing around to murder me when my guard is down.
I went to the doctor.
I got overbilled and fucked over a barrel.
More expenses pending.

Three months working, and I'm about wiped out instantly.
I'm in the process of contesting the amount to get a write-off.

The prices they're asking are for guys covered in gold-rimmed monocles.
I have no monocles.

I'm on the thinnest, narrowest margin of my finances, homelife, love life, professional life, all colliding and imploding at the same moment.

I haven't been this broke since I was drunk.
Drunk sounds pretty good about now.

Every time I pick up a strand, another three fall out of my hand.










Weird thing is I've been in much, much worse positions.

I'm becoming accutely numb, but harassed.

I just need something to make this all... more worth it than it is.

It was.
Before.
But that was a moment ago.
That moment is gone.
At the moment.

I imagine my dog will pass away before I get a new place.
This place will have to do for a bit.

I dunno what's after that.

Squirreling my nuts away for another thieving accident, whore, or house fire I suppose. Or literal thieves. I am down several thousand over that still.

I'm going to crush this under my heel,
and emerge a shade darker than blue.
But it's not like to be worth it without you.


Because when I have it.
Fort, vault, hoarde,
there won't be anything left.

That's a scary thought.

What's to want, after have?