cmon! cmon! we've got the time!

let's live like we know it's a prequel, and we're excited to dictate the details of how our future selves will tie it all together. we'll tiptoe around the moles and light fires under the feet of the stand stills to get them moving again. no one static, no one wavering in any direction other than the immediate panic we provide for them, and no one to notice us unless we want them to. the finicky breakfasts and afternoon meanders we'll treat ourselves too underneath the high rise tables and chairs... run for hours in every direction, eating the bread crumbs and rolling up the strings.

you'll paint me and i'll try to paint you, with everything and nothing we can find, our surroundings the canvas and our adventures the inspiration. there's nothing we have committed to and even if we have we'll save it for when a rainy day when we are old and sick of wanting to be tired. let's crawl let's jump let's climb let's invade. something is wrong with this place so we can fix it. we'll begin the days with lullabies and garnish them with chaotic expectations. build an arc and send it out empty.

that inflection won't land the fish you are after.

i want so badly to get my tattoo. not because of all that it stands for, or the implications behind it's placement, but because i need that constant reminder of why i am going after the things i am going after. i know having it won't change me, but it can motivate me towards that change. i was looking forward to summer as a time i could break my cycles, start fresh and get tons of stuff done. but i haven't done that... i've created new cycles that are seem higher priority than my previous ones, and because of that i haven't drawn in over a month, and i haven't been writing anything (for you to see or for me to ponder over). it's not the end of the world and it's by no means a make or break moment for my artistic career, i just hate how lazy i've become towards my practices. although it's the last thing i want to do when i come home from work, i need to be drawing all the time. through that release of artistic expression is where more inspiration flows from, and when none of it happens it's like a clot. i feel like the tattoo artist that allows me to fall into this focus will be like the surgeon who takes it out.

look at THIS guy. whining and aching about himself not being able to spend the intimate moments alone that he has with himself FOR himself. all the time he needs is hiding right under his nose, he just doesn't realize he actually has it. it'll be the little things that separate him from the path he's on. or wants to be on. those little inanimate desires that he gives heartbeats to by even acknowledging them as something-s that need to be fulfilled. he's taking the spare and not going for the strike, because that'd be risky and scary and everything that isn't stable. if he wanted it done so bad he'd get it done.

beach boys, you simply trounce me

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i won't be sunscreen on a cloudy day.

i've lost my mind meander.

i've lost my mind meander. if i say it again it'll become permanent. the tragic upbringing of ignorance within my sedated consciousness cannot allow for more exposure to the truth. it's been filled it's been won it's been permitted for long enough. the nurture and the curious filing down the defenses it cast up against the rot and the binge.

healed with a splint of splendor, arresting affection, acrobatics and overly intentional alliteration.

hey, here's an idea

take two weeks off. gas up, leave.


calgary-detroit. 30 hours, 29 minutes. 1878.71 miles.

detroit-montreal. 10 hours, 32 minutes. 560.32 miles.

montreal-new york. 10 hours, 15 minutes. 615.31 miles.

new york-detroit. 10 hours, 13 minutes. 614.58 miles.

detroit-calgary. 30 hours, 36 minutes. 1886.05 miles.



ohhhhhhhh snap.

i wish i hadn't

lets get angry. lost and forgotten, broken and fully exposed. i want to get in but i can't get past the gates. there are things called fate and fair and unfair, and all the reasons in between that prevent anything from being beautiful. there's nothing more i can do and it's driving me insane. fucking up the plan and moving to the sidewalks instead of the roads, blaming you and taking me where i need to dwell. we live in reality, and the spiritual realm is a jungle, and what happens to everything right now is what counts for bringing in the rest. i can but i won't describe, i should but i can't run away, i WILL but it's not up to me anyways.