I'm not as good at keeping up with this as I thought I'd be. Really though, it's my lack of worthy posts, nothing seems interesting enough to share. Having said that much, I decided I would try babbling a bit, maybe this way I'll come up with at least one paragraph of slight merit. Being home is getting old; and quickly at that. It's always one big painfully obvious cycle of bull shit. And when I say bull shit, I am using it as a kind of analogy. A bull's shit is to my life as this summer is. Inconsequential. There are good times, but there always are. The point is if I took everything I've done in the past month or so, and deleted it all from ever having existed, nothing would happen. I do have some new art, but what is that doing for me? Zilch.
Time to look for a job.
No, literally. I am leaving to look for one r i i i g h t . . .
now.
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