hot chocolate/ defense contractors in iraq


When I was a small child I would obsess about carnation instant cocoa mix, and I hated any other type of cocoa; this cold patch of weather has proved that it only takes a piece of weather to imbibe the brain with subtleties of remembrance, walking through the cigarette tree of life struggling with every minor decision, waiting to exhale the truth of all the time wasted in whining pity, and inaction. A strange brew indeed fro a night of freezing rain, helped by marked indifference to trends of disorder. Thinking about how my father has given everything he has, and what I have given him, No grandchildren and no pride, and not even a guarantee that I can help him in his old age...I fell like a failure that has squandered all his potential at thirty, due to my own lack of motivation...I would kill for a cup of hot carnation coco right now, full of the good feeling of being six; a cup filled the good will of youth...maybe I could go work in the plastic mines of Africa, shaking all the plastic out of the big nets filled with blood diamonds..and big shards of plastic to be melted down to the thousands of useful items. I fell that I'm on the wrong side of the capitalism equation right now, as their are only victims and the victimized...like the people at Titian who hired many interpreters who were unqualified to translate in Iraq...I'm not making sense right now so I'm going to sleep. I will have a part two to this blog...
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