|
|
damn... it's been like a conspiracy to prevent me from written expression. visual expression, even. it could be called "expression repression," come to think of it. so untidy and unfinished, this life. scraps thrown together hastily to create form... to be continued, polished, refined. one project nears completion, then the next muscles its way to the front of the line... then the next, and the next. those unable to cope around me bring their own queues for me to tackle, with the same results. multiplied. and these are just the necessities. frivolities, they are the ones that lose in this scenario. and, if i do indulge in a bit of off-the-track excursion... reality falls like a boulder on the roadrunner's coyote. fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck i've still got my nose above the quicksand, at least. there's still life in this rapidly mummifying skin... though some parts are losing their usefulness. like my brain, right about now. kee-ryst... it's quarter to three. three AM, that is... and i'm still at work. and no better an entry than last night. mebbe tomorrow. just maybe. |
|
|
