...has put me in a dour fucking mood. He talks about how desperate things are getting back home. He talks about our mother calling him at three in the morning, crying, saying, "I can't do this anymore". She's sacrificed everything to be here, and it's still not enough. She has done everything in the world to help us, and here we are. She put us all through high school, and here we are. It makes me wonder what the fuck I am doing with my life again. I need to make my choices count, because I have always sensed that in the end, the parents would depend on the children. I feel so fucking angry about this shit, but there's nothing I can do. Sending money home for debt relief isn't an option, and even if it were, I don't think it would change a thing. Debt is ancient history, replaying itself in it's third decade. There's a reason why people stay poor, and there's a reason why people don't get ahead. It's not so much because poor people make poor choices as it is that the game is rigged. I firmly believe this. The American Dream has always seemed like such a fucking lie.

Tonight, I feel like I don't believe in a goddamn thing about the future anymore. It's coming, but nothing will be there. With doom, with the end of the world forever dancing in the air, with the taste of apocalypse on my very lips, I will push forward with impossible goals in defiance of certain demise. But right now, this very second, I'm going to eat my oatmeal and savor my coffee that I'm eating right now instead. Life. Taste it while it lasts.