The Entry: Tales From The Couch

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It’s one of those days. You know one of those days friends are going out everyone has a job and all I’m just here indoors chilling. One would think by now I would have gotten my life together but that seems like a lot to do. Too much honestly. I’m not suited for such, for the white collar nine to five slavery.

Alright one more day, I’m sure I can get past that. I got some movies from the guy down the road. They show a bit of promise. Five cigarettes and half a litre of Mazoe, it will be fine. My phone buzzes with notifications set to pop up on the screen. My life is far too mediocre for me to hide chats, there is nothing to hide at all.

I check my WhatsApp group often, got to keep out the riff raff that occasionally posts sexual content in hopes of baiting one of the girls I added there for the ambience. A good group admin knows you can’t have a group full of men. Before you know it your gallery is filled with porn and Instagram screenshots of girls in your neighbourhood. You would be surprised how many get excited with an “I’m coming home” tweet from the timeline hottie. Honestly, I should just leave the group and actually work towards getting my things in order. Meh, too much work.

At least tomorrow will be fun. Managed to get a dollar to go to town for the online hookup. I’m sure someone there is stupid enough to buy a tower. I could sneak a glass in with the whole ‘I don’t drink beer but let me taste’ phrase. No one there really knows me aside from a couple of selfies and half-baked tweets. By half-baked, I’m sure you know what I mean.

I’m glad though. If I was the only one unemployed I would be getting none stop lectures from Mom. Daily prayers and pastor visits to exorcise the demon of no money out of me. It helps that dad is a dead beat too. Like father like son. But tomorrow is the day, let me sleep I can’t waste these bundles I’m going to need someone to send me the location.

Nhamoa

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