RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition. He does have an amazing PATREON, but also *normal* ARTIST WEBSITE too.

Friday, January 8

Friday Love/Hate

I love working a new job, although after years and years of construction capped off by about five years of self-employment, it's a little hard adjusting to a state job. My mentality is GO GO GO and, thinking from the mind of a guy who hired people at times, moving slow or taking your time or having down time is a black strike of death. Yet here I am, packing five hours of work into an eight hour day. Really, this is what has killed America more than anything else, because most jobs are like this, and people have come to expect goofing off on the internet or playing solitaire on their computer as part of the cost of doing business. That is not cool. Why can't we just bust ass, be done by 1:30, and go the fuck home, all of us? Oh yeah, that wouldn't look professional, because nobody would be there in case something comes up. I guess a bunch of people pretending to do things is better than getting it done and starting up something else extra. That's America right there, to a tee. But back to the love, I love the new job, as it's some wacky challenging nonsense that will fill my years well yet only adds to the strange writer's resume that I like to cultivate even if I'm not a for-real well-published writer yet. Although I long ago deleted all games and distractions from my laptop, so in my spare time at this new job, I'm just gonna be writing like a madman, and hopefuly wrap up a couple of these projects that have been percolating for a long ass while.

I hate the cold. We got two feet of snow like ten days before Christmas, so I'm done with snow for the year. Plus, it's stayed below 40 for the past month, and been below 30 for three or four day chunks a couple times now. Fuck that. I already want it to be spring, and for women to wear tank tops and those wrap-around skirts that you can just imagine pulling loose like a string on a sweater. Oh man. I am ready as fuck for spring, already, very early.

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