I feel like writing today. About nothing in particular. Birds chirping maybe. Or sunsets on the beach. Or baby wrestling.
I feel like playing guitar today. Already have for a little bit, but I never play enough. Hopefully, no one ever says, "You know, that thing I love doing, I've done enough."
It's a lot easier to make things up on the fly than to take the time to actually develop ideas. Especially when you're impatient. Especially when you could care less what people think about you. Especially since you can always fall back on "yeah, it sucked, but we made it up on the fly"...
My wedding and honeymoon didn't really happen. They were dreams that are now drifting off into the ether of struggling to accurately remember-ville. In fact, all of our lives are not really happening. It's all just a representation of a symbolic allusion to how things might have, will have, could never have been.
I understand why Tralfamadorians are so worthy of our envy...
The cocktail party is more like a speed dating with benefits session.
The people that have truly influenced my life: mom, dad, brother, sisters, Mrs. Reinert, Tim Nelson, Perry Como, Miss Running, Mr. Caldwell, Mr. Goeppel, Rivers Cuomo, Daniel Brummel, Ryen Slegr, Todd Simmons, Chris Duncan, Terry Trebilcock, Adrian Noack, Ben Hammond, Rachel Pupa Montemayor, Chase Pupa Montemayor...
Do you honestly believe that you've worked hard enough to deserve it?
This time we live in is exciting, terrifying, dangerous, fleeting...
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