Prostitutes

For the last time. I will hopefully write this, I'm thinking of that dry dusty road on the way from botrivier to hermanus. Ever since I heard a man committed suicide there, my brain seems to be obsessing about the place. I don't know what to do about it, except stop sinning. I need action in my life. An extreme lack of action has brought me to this place I can't seem to get out of. In about 5 minutes I have to start getting dressed and I don't know how I'll handle the day, except for one step at a time. Let me just get my bearings so that none of this really matters anymore. I don't want to pay whores to do things that I can get for free, but if it's a mutual help then who am I to argue? I'm such an impertanent idiot sometimes. Why do I keep doing this. But I feel no real sadness as I didn't cum. As soon as I cum, I feel the terror of an imminent passage to hell bearing down on me. Thank God this other hell is soon over. I will have 33k in my banking account and that's enough to travel anywhere. It actually doesn't matter where I go, although China. Speaking of which, first order of the day is to write my own resume. (No thanks GiGi, thanks GiGi)