Category: Diary

September 8, 2024, Sunday.
Aurora, Oregon.

I still have the load. Meaning, the load delivery process didn't happen last night either. Maybe it will happen tonight, maybe tomorrow night. Days are passing. I am losing money. There is nothing I can do.

I excitedly celebrated the Sinaloan at 12 at night. I said send $2500, I pressed the send button, it didn't go. Then I sent $1500 from the card that had $1500 on it. I told her to shoot a video for the song you made and publish it already. She sent me a video with kisses but that's it for now. It's coming up on 12 noon now and still no other message. Oh well, I eased my conscience. I'll probably send another $1000 by October. And I learned not to ask for anything in return. When you ask, it doesn't happen anyway. You just end up begging.

September 7, 2024, Saturday.
Aurora, Oregon.

Aurora again. Because the Flying J is here. I brought some things to Kroger again but I was late. They didn't take them. That's why my time is passing in vain now.

I don't feel like going to whores either. The money goes to waste. The treatments aren't good around here. It's better in Mexico. However, the day before yesterday I paid $200 and sucked a fat black woman's huge boobs for an hour. I was in Bakersfield that day. While I was in Bakersfield, I thought about whether I should cross over to Tijuana, but the green-eyed 20-year-old baby was bound for El Salvador. Her grandmother was there, she was going to visit her.

September 2, 2024, Monday.
Aurora, Oregon.

This headache hadn't been around for a long time. It's probably blood pressure, you know. It's on my head again today. I was afraid it would happen when I stayed sleepless. Yet I had been driving sleepless for quite a while and nothing was happening. Yesterday I slept a lot and today I had a headache all day.

I did an unbelievable thing. I messaged the poor girl I really liked and told her I couldn't keep the promise I gave her. Wow. Good for me. Like an idiot two days ago, when she was sad, I made ridiculous promises to her. It wasn't actually a promise, I didn't promise. But the words just came out of my mouth. She was crying. I said okay, you don't work, I'll pay all your rent and bills. The girl's expenses are $2500 a month. Why the fuck should I pay that? Okay, I liked her and all, but fuck that.

September 1, 2024, Sunday.
Tumwater, Washington.

Two days ago, a song called "Küçük Bir Yol" (A Little Road) came up in front of me, I've been listening to it day and night for two days. Apparently, Hadise sings it. Its lyrics seem like nonsense but the music, the voice, and the interpretation are magnificent. The lyrics are also words that touch one's soul, but when you look at them as a sentence, they are nonsensical things. What is "a little road", for instance, in the first place? Nothing. It just is. But I listen and listen and cry. Crying is my hobby, you know. It helps me rip out and throw away the dirt, rust, and ugliness inside me.

I'm in trouble. She texted me yesterday. She said, "I'm in trouble." I said, what happened my love. Because she does prostitution, you know. Her uncle was at the venue. That's why she ran away to her room before her shift ended. She keeps crying. She already does prostitution unwillingly. To be able to pay her rent, to look after her sibling and her grandpa. She comes once every two months, works for 5 days, earns enough to cover her two-month expenses, and returns home.

August 30, 2024, Friday.
Clearfield, Utah.

I will get a good amount of money today. Because I worked well last week. Dispatch worked well too. We found good loads. We earned good money.

Today I'll send $500 to my dad, $400 to my mother-in-law. I'll send $400 to one of the girls in Tijuana too. I'll probably send $100 to the girl in Ankara. I'll set aside $1000 from the remaining money, and pay the rest to the credit card. Actually, I want to send $1500 to another Mexican girl. It's her birthday, and she also has a song she recorded, so she can shoot a video for it, even if it's cheap and amateurish, and publish it.

Good morning, lucky human. You are lucky because you weren't born in Africa. You are lucky because you weren't born in China, Malaysia, or other shitty countries of Asia. You are lucky because you weren't born in Venezuela and other shitty countries of Latin America. You are lucky because you weren't born in the 19th century. You are lucky because you weren't born in the 18th century. You are lucky because you weren't born in the Dark Ages. You are lucky because you weren't born in the first half of the 20th century. And you are lucky because you are still alive today.

Everything is flowing so fast. A bunch of beautiful things, the time and effort needed for all of them, but the limited time and strength we have.

We can't keep up. We are unhappy. We are helpless. We are among the losers. We are doomed to lose.

Social media is going to kill me. Turn it off, right? Nope. Can't do it. Better it kills me.

Thursday, August 22, 2024. Medford, Oregon. They loaded cheese from Wisconsin on Monday and told me to get it to Medford, Oregon by Thursday or Friday morning. After picking up the load, I went to the tire shop. But...

If she calls and says things are going well here, I'll quit and go there. She'll drive the truck during the day, and I'll drive it at night. Or if she gets her passport, and he gets our tickets, we'll come to Istanbul and I'll learn the...

August 18, 2024, Sunday. Cheyenne, Wyoming. https://youtu.be/vgr9ylj_ht4?si=sruynkexqyoag0ua My blue one, I turned blue, I locked myself to your door. My heart was rusted, but with you, I was renewed. My darling, m...