Swirling Thoughts

Up in the middle of the night and my mind will not stop. I am crazed with frustration. The crazy run of bad luck is translating into me becoming somewhat of a what? What? A boor? A whiner? A fucking Sad Sack? I simply cannot get over feeling like there is some cosmic plot against me feeling any sort of complacency or generalized comfort. This is a bawwww blog. Stop reading right now if you don't want to witness me working this out in public.

I cannot believe that I have spent more than $12,000 on vehicles in the last year and I have nothing but problems to show for it. I purchased a used motorcycle from a local dealership for $9,000. It's FUCKED. I purchased a used pick-up from a local for $1200, it's FUCKED. I purchased a new engine for my old scooter for $1800, I have ridden it for 5 total days, it's FUCKED. It seems that all of my bad luck is coming from machinery right now. I am so fucking frustrated. I made the decisions to go ahead with these purchases, only to find that my hard earned cash is hemorrhaging out my bank account like blood out of a hemophiliac Russian Prince.

I would love to be able to take the Love path. You know, meditate and open my mind to releasing the petty concerns of the smaller man. I would love to have a positive mind towards accepting that things do, in fact, sometimes just happen. I would love to focus on my new girlfriend and forget about all of the stupid ass baggage that the Bad Luck has brought to my heart and soul. I WOULD LOVE TO STOP WORRYING ABOUT THIS DUBIOUS SHIT.

Is it because of bad choices? Is there such thing as Karma? Did I do something that is warranting all of the rage and heartache I feel towards my vehicles as they suck me dry of positivity and money?

I want mention this: What is it with motorcycles? If I spent $9,000 dollars on a new car, I feel that I could reasonably expect many miles of use. Think about it. A used car that costs that much is categorically expected to live up to standards. As a consumer, you would probably agree. Shit, for $2, 000 more, I could buy a brand new car. I have. My ex has it,  it's called a Ford Focus.  It's a great car. But, when it comes to motorcycles, it seems to be accepted as just being the initial cost of owning a bike. After that, apparently, mature motorcyclists understand that bikes just cost more money to maintain. And don't fucking start with me about all of the differences between cars and bikes. It has wheels. It has an engine. It has been engineered. It should FUCKING work. End of story.

I know that this rage doesn't help anything. But it's true, right now I am enraged. My shit is in shambles, I'm tired of telling myself, "It's gonna work out. This is just a speed bump." What has that gotten me? Expensive. Broken. Shit.

Watch out for me today. I am not in a joking mood, nor will I suffer fools gladly. I am tired because when I woke up at 2 am, I couldn't go back to sleep. I just keep thinking about all the smiling faces that have rooked me. And I hate being rooked.