I trip the wire and it all starts over again. Starting fresh with no plan. Smile on my face just because I can. Feel the steel at my back, but I thrive off that shit. It's a gift. And we'll see when all is said and done. Cause I don't aim to quit, and the words don't aim to quit me.
I lag and lolligag and fuck I feel guilty because Rush!!!!!!!!!!!!!! is waiting on me, but I got bills to pay and I write for money. Not the real writing. The real writing comes from my confusion and wonder and fear of the world. And my recognition of its beauty. The writing about product releases and small businesses. People who want a little extra for nothing. But then there's Jeff. Thank the good lord I resist for Jeff. My belly is full and the rent is paid.