You know . . . I'm such a fuckin' phony, its really getting to me. I think I'm in a bit of a shitty mood right now so all of this may just be a bunch of "wo is me" bullshit but . . . I've been writing now for how many years, more then I'd care to admit to, more then I'd care to admit to because I haven't been published. The not being published thing doesn't really get to me any more, its more the fact I have never sent anything for review. I keep saying "tomorrow, tomorrow" I've been fucking saying tomorrow since I was 12 years old. And I thought I couldn't hac it as a writer so I took up guitar, ya thats a fucking joke and half. Sure I played my first show, and people said they liked it, but I'm a hack, I have 3 songs with the same exact chords I just sing different words. And as if I thought it would help I started pretending to be an artist. I'd probably get better shows if I drew stick figures or wiped my ass on some canvas. I just feel like some washed up dinosaur that came way past his time. That if anything people would call me a throw back, or shutter to think, retro. I mean, who I am is buried under layers and years of different forms of art that I forgot what the hell it was I really wanted out of life to begin with. How can I write a book about life when my life has been a quest to find something to write a book about. I have the attetion span of a sea monkey and now a days the only thing I seem to be able to write about is the fact that I can't write. Oh, plus I have been unemployed since september. I have become the very thing I used to hate the most, a starving artist that isn't even good. Man . . . I'm just one big whinny bitch ain't I. Everything just seems so ineffectual and mundane that even sitting here typing this I want to plunge my head threw the monitor . . . thats it . . fuck it!
*From this moment on I say nothing*
*From this moment on I say nothing*