lost to the annals of cyberspace.
i hate my effing internet connection that decides to spaz out RIGHT when i click “create post” after a piece of pure genius that will never again be replicated, never again be read or pondered over by another pair of human eyes. EFFF MY LIFE. what a bust. im cranky, depressed and tired.
im not going to try and remember what i wrote, because it never comes out quite the same, and im never quite as satisfied with the second product. so here’s a new one for you..
FCKTHMBTCHS
elucidation, leads to the realization-enumeration, of the problems that plague this nation-consternation, as i see this sensation-of a culture that has no cure to their addiction.
damn this one is not even close. FML. the meter is all jacked up and the anger that i felt this morning is no longer there. the title is no longer relevant.
i think that when striving to become a “starving artist”, or a “starving writer”, the precursor word carries about it an inherent nobility, or a badge of honor of sorts. hence, when my belly is full, my muse deserts me, always just in time for dessert. oh, the proclivities of my muse! if only she was more inclined to decline the proposals of the wandering spirits of the air, that toy with our fancies, our futures, and our fates! if only she would desert me no more!
i have no idea wtf im writing, and now im late for work -___- idk. ive been reading lots of speeches lately. although bryan’s cross of gold speech is good, kennedy’s crisis of confidence is my favorite. crap even more late to work.
