In this thread, i pretend that i'm irty Franck on a Christmas eve.

I scuttle in the corner of my cheap one-room walkup apartment like a human cockaroach. I am slat-thin, gaunt, hollow-eyed, stubble-cheaked, havent slept or showered in many days. The walls are covered with tiny convoluted scrawlings, writings, diagrams, plans, charts. A compendium of religious and political views, observations on life, poetry, pornography. The daylight hurts my eyes so the cheap vynal shade from the late 70s yellow with age was down all day, filtering the dusky winter sunlight into a piss-brown, diseased miasma that filled the room all day. Now I can open it because its night. My time. I stalk out of my smelly, tiny appartment to go get a whooper and a milkshake. The streets are mostly empty except for diseased whores and crack-runners, pimps and gimps clattering around on leg braces, human scum and waste. I grin a dark grin and know this christmas will be another filthy, povertystricken alone time of meaninglessness and rootlessness and lack of human warmth just like last christmas and the one before it and every day before, since, and forever on. I get back to my PC to spend another meaningless night on GFY, trolling and hating my life away...