Let me put this simply:
I hate-hate-hate certain people, things, and thoughts that are going through my head right now.
Duke is designing a mad rubber ducky tattoo for me. I don't know where I want it, or even if I want it. I like my tattoos for their simplicity, of color and of design. I just don't know right now. I'm going to have Brandon start on my shoulders and quarter sleeves after Christmas, so that's more of a priority in my artistic mind. I just hope that doesn't upset Duke - it's not that I don't want him tattooing me, it's that I want the design that he puts on me to be special and have some type of personal meaning. Yeah... I like rubber ducks, but they don't remind me of him.
Duke has been tattooing more lately and I have no words for how proud that makes me. He's developing a talent that I didn't even know he had... and I think he's even pleased with himself, though constructively critical of course. I'm happy to see that he's going for his dream and making it his reality. Now, if only I could do the same, right?
But what is my dream? To work in a corporation, smoke to keep my stress levels down, be toxxed up on braincandy to keep me from eating a bullet, and remain in this irritable fucking catharsis for the rest of my life? No. Fuck. I get wicked edgey when I can't remember my dreams anymore.
Fuck this. I'm tripping over my own tangents now and I don't know what to say next... I think I'll go smoke a bit, eat my first meal of today (since I'm feeling like hammered dog shit obviously), and play some Metroid.
Apparently my woes are temporarily cured by some high-end smoke and a chick with a missile launcher strapped to her arm.
I hate-hate-hate certain people, things, and thoughts that are going through my head right now.
Duke is designing a mad rubber ducky tattoo for me. I don't know where I want it, or even if I want it. I like my tattoos for their simplicity, of color and of design. I just don't know right now. I'm going to have Brandon start on my shoulders and quarter sleeves after Christmas, so that's more of a priority in my artistic mind. I just hope that doesn't upset Duke - it's not that I don't want him tattooing me, it's that I want the design that he puts on me to be special and have some type of personal meaning. Yeah... I like rubber ducks, but they don't remind me of him.
Duke has been tattooing more lately and I have no words for how proud that makes me. He's developing a talent that I didn't even know he had... and I think he's even pleased with himself, though constructively critical of course. I'm happy to see that he's going for his dream and making it his reality. Now, if only I could do the same, right?
But what is my dream? To work in a corporation, smoke to keep my stress levels down, be toxxed up on braincandy to keep me from eating a bullet, and remain in this irritable fucking catharsis for the rest of my life? No. Fuck. I get wicked edgey when I can't remember my dreams anymore.
Fuck this. I'm tripping over my own tangents now and I don't know what to say next... I think I'll go smoke a bit, eat my first meal of today (since I'm feeling like hammered dog shit obviously), and play some Metroid.
Apparently my woes are temporarily cured by some high-end smoke and a chick with a missile launcher strapped to her arm.