admitting there's a problem

i see them in france or spain, or whatever other hip country or continent. 

i tell myself it's only the hipness of the place that draws them there, not the experiences or the sights, but sometimes i wonder. why the hell am i so deserving when they're the ones working their asses off? 

i guess they don't always bust behind, some just come from wealthy backgrounds. 

but still, they're younger, more active and attractive. 

they can commit to their schooling, and still seem to have fun, while i putter along directionless and hopeful. 

no amount of reading will get me there.

no amount of writing. 

i feel stupid, real stupid. 

while perusing the internet, spying on old familiar faces, i've stumbled upon some very sad news. i can't believe cocaine habits and pity whoring could take you so damn far in this world. they go from tokyo to brussels to sydney to new york, taking memorable snap shots all along the way. i've always believed that some of these bastards had a real shit storm headed their way, some horrible karma lurking in their unsuspecting shadows, but somehow they've sidestepped their impending reciprocation and continued merrily on their way. 

without schooling.

without changing.

parents feeding them money, maybe? hell if i know. hell if i'll ever know.

some people, i realize, i've wrongly accused of some stupid trivial thing or another. i can see that. i can also see them doing much better than i, you know, traveling around and enjoying themselves and yada yada. as jealous as i get, i can only shrug my stupid shoulders and forget about it. but the others...

shit.

i can only say this:

life isn't fair, goddamnit.

mad scientist in the fish aisle.

a variety of filters and subterranean bubblers. 

kissing gouramies, blood parrots, schools of piranha like oscars, cichlids and tiger-striped barbs. 

a small wooden desk, blotchy with chemical spills and slightly warped by accidental fish bag spills. underneath sat large empty buckets that, judging by the silhouette of the drowning toddler, once contained something hazardous. now only slippery moss and algae.

old aquarium parts, light bulb fixtures white with calcium deposits, glass feeder doors, broken aqua green nets and other bizarre equipment, some having no place in the fish aisle.

aqua boy, professor xenitor.

the stare of a man fresh out of a coma.

skin made of plastic cling wrap. stares into your soul. 

an evil telepathic super genius.

customers emitting rays or vibes that sickly resemble those of a chinese foot binder or a goatse enthusiast. obsessive, lacking some important quality