horrors of the titanic revisited...

Im truly at a crossroads in my journey cautiously trying my damdest not pick the road that leads into falling into the labyrinth of poverty 5 years from now. The only thing on my 5 year plan is to not be poor...the horror and decay of poverty sends satanic shivers down my spine. which is followed by epileptic fits of anxiety. It is the not knowing, whether or not if this education tree will bear any fruits once harvest season comes around, that scares the bejesus out of me. Like one of my lectures so eloquently puts it "some of you will be stuck on a tiny boat in the middle of the ocean with no paddles and wondering to yourself how the fuck you got here and how the hell you are going to get to the shore if you actually do" and folks like me who can't swim will have to pray to their ancestors that the boat doesn't tip over-oh the horror!!

The only thing keeping me going at this point in time, which may sound superficial to some and reasonable to my materialistic  soul mates, is getting  my first pair of red soles and a Hermes Burkin (ostrich skin). Its not poetic or profound it just is what it is-the reason I plan my outfits each day and the reason I force my lifeless body to go on board the slave ship that is university. Hopefully this ship wont pull a titanic on me...