Hey.

     "What do I have to do?  I'll fucking do it, whatever the goddamn fuck it is.  You want me to dress in a nice business suit?  Have a fancy portfolio with awesome artwork in it to carry around and show clients?  I'll fucking do it.  But forget about the hair, I ain't cuttin' it.  I finally got skinny enough to have long hair again, so fuck the world.  They are just going to have to deal with it, and besides, it isn't even a big issue anyway.  All that really matters is if the work is good, and that I can get the job done, Jesus Christ."

     With that, he stormed out of the apartment.  He could barely give a fuck, so he just started to walk to blow off steam.  He needed to think, to reset his mind, and move on from there. 

     Walking was his way to cool down.  It did him good.

     Just all the pressures of daily existence, upcoming engagements, errands, all those meaningless tasks just slowed him down, weighed him down.  Just all the bullshit that society creates stifles the individual spirit. 

     He was sick and tired of it all, that was for sure.
  
     So he kept walking.  An hour had gone by.  He had walked past homes and businesses, past people, and he was still heavy in his heart and mind, even at the core of his soul.

     Things just felt unresolved, and impossible.  If only he could think clearly.  He lit up a cigarette.  That made him feel better, and less angry.

     "Fuck," I feel better now," he thought to himself as he blew out a puff of smoke after a big inhale.     "Maybe things aren't that bad, I just needed to walk it all off.  Yes, I feel much better now."

     He looked up at the moon.  It was a half-moon.  He did not know if it was waxing or waning.

     With that, he walked down the street and found a neighborhood bar to kick back in.   Having  a beer and jamming out to some tunes, he started to have a good time.