from The Days Run Away Like Wild Horses Over the Hills (1969)
these things that we support most well have nothing to do with us, and we do with them out of boredom or fear or money or cracked intelligence; our circle and our candle of light being small, so small we cannot bear it, we heave out with Idea and lose the Center: all wax without the wick, and we see names that once meant wisdom, like signs into ghost towns, and only the graves are real.
So if you ever think you'll make money in the U.S.
via stock options in a company you wasted too much time on, stop fucking kidding yourself.
The 90’s are fucking over. When I left said company in 2005, I paid 2000+ dollars for my stock options…I was fed up with it, but it seemed to be going somewhere.
Anyway, thanks to a bunch of venture capitalists the company is worth a lot more than it was back then, but my return is quite a bit less. Those filthy rich mother fucking assholes wasted my hard earned money for 6 years and reclassified me as a “common stock” holder…with a pretty fucked up return ratio (less than half what I paid.)
I’ve been whistling fuckmas carols since I woke up. What the fuck was I dreaming last night?
In other news: I found myself thinking about Tumblr beginnings. Remember the MAP and TUMBLARITY? Both were the fucking bees knees. I wish they’d bring motherfucking aspects of both back. However, with the fucky-uppy-ness of Tumblr these days, it’s probably best they aren’t available anymore.