And the Skies Are Not Cloudy Enough

You know what I wish there was?

A game company that was a farm or a cattle ranch or some kinda log cabin lumberjack place where we could grow our own food or chop wood or something hard-workng and constructive and honest like that, some kind of work we could be proud of, during the day, with game crap to work on at night.

Yah, something sorta like a commune, I guess, but with cowboy junk and sawdust and game-making insteada all the creepy hoodoo stuff.

Yah none of that hoodoo junk, none of that sociological experimental this-and-that, just cowboy and camping and game making stuff.

Just some kinda low-tech day high-tech night place, throw our laptops in our saddlebags and off we go.

Dude, if there was something like that, I'd go.

I don't even care what country its in as long as its just mundane things like snakes and scorpions and crocodiles and sharks and pterodactyls and giant spiders that're gonna try to kill us.

Yah I don't even care if its a village made out of bamboo rafts or something on the ocean, man.

I'll eat fish and bugs-of-the-sea and stringy bits of seaweed and driftwood and baby seals and dolphins if that's all there is.

Yah, saturday nights we could go into town and patronize the local ale repositories and terrorize the locals with all our psychic powers c'mon seriously man that'd be awesome.

Dude it ain't like we all ain't had jobs where we had to work three months straight without any days off in the dimly lit tombs of human resources with no windows to open and the stink of bitter death and dead hopes and whatever-they-wetted-the-carpets-with burning in our eyes.

And there wasn't even no "good parts" to that shit, I don't even remember what we were doing there in the first place!

And all of it was for what?

So some cologne-drenched fratboys with fake suntans and the personalities of plastic lawn ornaments could run around in their white khaki shorts and ruin the world with their half-conscious and barely sentient buzzword-guessing conversations on a golf course?

We could've been saving the world!

Yah, hard work and more hard work, boys, that's what you need to save the world, working for your own purposes, hard-living, honest work, being your own men, getting your bodies and minds back into shape!

If only this cruel and evil world hadn't left me sunlight-intolerant and morality-challenged and hypersensitive to sound I'd totally be into all that hard-work day-and-night save-the-world stuff with you guys.

Yah, just leave my breakfast and some bullets and a canteen of something powerful to kill the pain within reach of my sleeping bag, I'm done for, you boys are going to have to go on without me.

Hopefully I'll be able to reach deep down inside of myself and find the strength of character required to listen to myself eat a bit of this "grub" without fainting.

I'll buy you guys all the time I can but I'm saving this last bullet so I can put an extra one in whoever wakes me up next.