I wish I was a battery operated capitalist machine; a real commodity — like the way I’m treated. There’s not much more to being a human being than having rickety joints and an infinite amount of complaints, though, right? It’s up to you if you want to vocalize them, or write about them, or cry to someone who loves you at nighttime, because there is no other way to get all of those negative feelings out. I like positive people. I like the way they make me feel, with all of their optimism and naivety, because it reminds me of a time not too long ago when I felt the same way about existence. Actually, that time seems like eons ago… And positive people like me sometimes, too! They think I’m pragmatic and I force them to look at situations from angles they’ve never contemplated before. They think I’m worldly and that is quite an ego stroke. I have to say, I like positive people because they make my realize that there is much more to life than my own soul fatigue. I’m a bit less jaded and a lot more loving. I’m absolutely infatuated with their innocence and zeal. Happy people make me think that I’m not so tired anymore.