So it's been amazing moving out here and living the past six months. It's really made me realize how fortunate I am to be living the lifestlye I live. I answer to no one, I do what I want when I want, I've got a group of friends I'd fight and die for and it's reciprocal. I live each and every single day how I see fit, and I go to sleep at night and don't have an ounce of regret. It amazes me sometimes to think that I've been out of high school now for seven years, almost twice as long as I was in. Yet here I am, living with Stephen Hayes and Erik Benson, kid's I've known for upwards of twenty years, and Dustin Deveaux is sleeping downstairs on the couch, us knowing each other going back 11 plus years.
I was bunking in the loft here in CO with Garrett Gentry, one of my most recent promotions to best friend. We started the W5 together over a long night of everclear and throwing knives and it was a historic occasion, although we didn't know at the time what we had set into motion. I wouldn't trade my year with that group of five guys for anything. I'd take a blade or a bullet for any one of them and I sincerely believe it goes the opposite way as well. We're family, and in many ways we are five guys who needed some form of alternate family, replacement family, real true blue we bleed and die with you family. Not all of us have two parents, or living parents, or families that are there for us when we need them. Some of us do, but it's never all roses and dancing with glo-sticks, there are skeletons in all the closests. Those are the kinds of friends that I have and I wouldn't trade it for the world. They have my back when I need them, they are there with cash when I'm strapped, drinks when I'm thirsty, beds when I need a place to sleep, and fists when I run my mouth a little too fast.
I love each and every one of my friends, but those that deserve special shout outs are the original W5 besides myself; Stephen Hayes, Austin Marsh, Garrett Gentry, Erik Benson. There's also those homies who are just always there for ya when you need 'em, people like Casey Cathcart, Kaylin Landry, Marta Gurule, Eric Gastelum, Gabe Edwards, Eli Goodall, Amanda Gabourey, Ryan Moss, Natalie K, Amanda Wilson, Colleen Whipple, my sis, and countless others that I'm sorry I didn't have the time or presence of mind to mention. I promise I still love you. Anyways. Tonight was just one of those nights, one where over many many drinks and smokes you just appreciate and love your friends. I hope you are all as well if not better then I am. Much love. Goodnight Colorado! Posting from Oregon in less then a month!
Monday, April 11, 2011
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Absolutes and Absolution
I am a writer and these are my words. They come from different places, from uncharted areas of my thoughts, from past experiences, a mishmash of past present and future emotions and expectations. This life that I live, the places I go, the people I am with, the choices I make, all things that I try each and every day to be proud of. Sometimes it's easy, sometimes it takes a little work. As my musing trickle down my ever firing synapses and down into and through my typing fingers it's hard not to reflect. Writing has taken me to so many places, both literal and figurative, peaceful and torrential, I learn more with every word and sentence and it keeps me moving forward.
In response to reading a piece on deconstructionism by my friend Gabe over at the Common Flow Narrative I have some thoughts that are perhaps corresponding albiet in a more nihilistic tone. I very much enjoyed his piece and for better or for worse it's inspired the following.
The world is a nasty place. Everything and everyone have teeth, and you can get bitten no matter where you are, both geographically and metaphorically. We build up our beliefs, our standards, our views and opinions but there is no absolute, nothing is finite. It is truly a meticulously assembled model just waiting to be taken apart piece by piece, spread out, mixed in with new pieces, and rebuilt as something new. Familiar yes, but never the same.
It's been my experience that all this, life itself, isn't happening within some personalized self contained bubble universe where you are free to go about your philosophizing and mental construct building without outside influence, be it good or bad. Some people will come into your life and just step right up and start fuckin with the controls and not word one from you can stop it. Aspects and understandings of and in your existence that you thought were concrete, you thought you knew through and through, dashed against the rocks into a million little pieces. Pieces that fly up into the air like pixels in an early nineties screen saver, swirling and changing right before your very eyes. Where they settle, what formation they take, it's going to be something you hadn't planned, couldn't plan, and thus enters the human factor.
You cannot predict your fellow man. If you are reading this than you are old enough to read and you should know this already. We are absolutely unconventional, fallible, misguided, self-serving, and entirely contradictory to nature and common sense in general. You may have a wonderful thing built up, each tiny cog and screw lovingly put into place over a long period of time, and no matter what kind of fences you build around it, no matter how strong you believe it to be, there always exists the truth that at any time, anybody, anywhere, could come along and tear it down. I'm talking scorched earth, absolute and total destruction, nothing left, no more pieces, time to go back to scratch. It happens. You can't control it, predict it, or God help you stop it.
I figure the only way to deal with this is to just go with it, accept it, know that it's out there and could happen and come to terms with that. You will rebuild, you will make something new and different and no matter what, better. It's better because it's progress. It's forward motion, and if you don't commit to it you will die, there is no place in this world for the stagnation and decay that accompanies motionlessness. You will be stomped on and beaten back and down until you know nothing but the intimate details and cracks on the floor.
If you accept that it's all fleeting, that everything is meaningless and nothing lasts, you open a door to freedom of a nature you've never known. Learning to just say 'fuck it' to those myriad obstacles you can't control or change is eye opening. There is so much worry and thought and time wasted on things that worry and thought and time have no effect on. It's all pointless. None of it makes any sense and it's just pissing in the wind to bother wasting brain cells on a meaning or a purpose. Just concentrate on the truths. Every day the sun will come up. You may or may not be around to see it, so live fast, enjoy all you can, and never put too much stock in things that fade. Take a deep breath and exhale everything that you don't have a direct influence or impact upon, because these unchangeable forces will suck the life right out of you in a sinkhole of stress and worry and panic. Embrace the void, and fall face first into the cleansing nothingness. The ultimate deconstruction will come when there's nothing left to pull apart. Just white noise.
In response to reading a piece on deconstructionism by my friend Gabe over at the Common Flow Narrative I have some thoughts that are perhaps corresponding albiet in a more nihilistic tone. I very much enjoyed his piece and for better or for worse it's inspired the following.
The world is a nasty place. Everything and everyone have teeth, and you can get bitten no matter where you are, both geographically and metaphorically. We build up our beliefs, our standards, our views and opinions but there is no absolute, nothing is finite. It is truly a meticulously assembled model just waiting to be taken apart piece by piece, spread out, mixed in with new pieces, and rebuilt as something new. Familiar yes, but never the same.
It's been my experience that all this, life itself, isn't happening within some personalized self contained bubble universe where you are free to go about your philosophizing and mental construct building without outside influence, be it good or bad. Some people will come into your life and just step right up and start fuckin with the controls and not word one from you can stop it. Aspects and understandings of and in your existence that you thought were concrete, you thought you knew through and through, dashed against the rocks into a million little pieces. Pieces that fly up into the air like pixels in an early nineties screen saver, swirling and changing right before your very eyes. Where they settle, what formation they take, it's going to be something you hadn't planned, couldn't plan, and thus enters the human factor.
You cannot predict your fellow man. If you are reading this than you are old enough to read and you should know this already. We are absolutely unconventional, fallible, misguided, self-serving, and entirely contradictory to nature and common sense in general. You may have a wonderful thing built up, each tiny cog and screw lovingly put into place over a long period of time, and no matter what kind of fences you build around it, no matter how strong you believe it to be, there always exists the truth that at any time, anybody, anywhere, could come along and tear it down. I'm talking scorched earth, absolute and total destruction, nothing left, no more pieces, time to go back to scratch. It happens. You can't control it, predict it, or God help you stop it.
I figure the only way to deal with this is to just go with it, accept it, know that it's out there and could happen and come to terms with that. You will rebuild, you will make something new and different and no matter what, better. It's better because it's progress. It's forward motion, and if you don't commit to it you will die, there is no place in this world for the stagnation and decay that accompanies motionlessness. You will be stomped on and beaten back and down until you know nothing but the intimate details and cracks on the floor.
If you accept that it's all fleeting, that everything is meaningless and nothing lasts, you open a door to freedom of a nature you've never known. Learning to just say 'fuck it' to those myriad obstacles you can't control or change is eye opening. There is so much worry and thought and time wasted on things that worry and thought and time have no effect on. It's all pointless. None of it makes any sense and it's just pissing in the wind to bother wasting brain cells on a meaning or a purpose. Just concentrate on the truths. Every day the sun will come up. You may or may not be around to see it, so live fast, enjoy all you can, and never put too much stock in things that fade. Take a deep breath and exhale everything that you don't have a direct influence or impact upon, because these unchangeable forces will suck the life right out of you in a sinkhole of stress and worry and panic. Embrace the void, and fall face first into the cleansing nothingness. The ultimate deconstruction will come when there's nothing left to pull apart. Just white noise.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Already Forgotten
Here it is. People are assholes. Also they are vultures, and have with them screaming babies and shitty attitudes and inflated senses of entitlement. What the fuck? I'm working at a massive corporate bookstore that is going under and as I work on this sinking ship in it's last few week(s) of life, you really see the underbelly of retail and consumerism. "I'm so sorry you are closing and losing your job along with 20 other people also hey do you know when things will be 45% off instead of 40% because I could get these cheaper online."
Me: "So go fucking get them online. We don't give a shit lady, we are headed for the unemployment line."
Customer: *Looks at my manager standing directly behind me*
Manager: *Shrugs, walks off*
Me: *GIANT SMILE* "HAVE A GOOD DAY!"
That's one of the least volatile encounters I have had, including flipping off a customer in front of two managers. People are just fuckin assholes. Some people are cool, they just come in, buy something, acknowledge you, and leave. Some people come in dragging their yelling crying asshole infants with them, all full of attitude, demanding and laying down ultimatums. Where they go wrong is assuming we actually give a shit about anything anymore. We've all been layed off. Everybody. It just hasn't kicked in yet (give it a week and a half). Nobody gives more then a minimal fuck about anything in the store. If you treat us poorly, we won't be kicked around, we won't take it like dumb corporate drone sheep clerks. We are just putting in time now. If you are a dick to us, we will absolutely be a dick to you. I will not tolerate your idiocy or your hamfisted douchebag approach to what should just be a simple transaction.
Thanks to all the people out there who have been cool during the insanity and unpredictability of this bankruptcy situation, and a big middle finger to everybody who apparently wasn't raised with any manners. You insensitive bastards.
Other news I'm stoked to be done working soon. I'm glad my birthday is coming up (I didn't die this year!). I'm glad I have some true and loyal friends to get my back. I'm irrationally excited that I was retweeted by Lisa Lampanelli (LOVE HER). I'm excited to get back to Bend, and I'm excited to go through the next month and a half here in the Rocky Fuckin Mountains. I'm glad I'm me.
Me: "So go fucking get them online. We don't give a shit lady, we are headed for the unemployment line."
Customer: *Looks at my manager standing directly behind me*
Manager: *Shrugs, walks off*
Me: *GIANT SMILE* "HAVE A GOOD DAY!"
That's one of the least volatile encounters I have had, including flipping off a customer in front of two managers. People are just fuckin assholes. Some people are cool, they just come in, buy something, acknowledge you, and leave. Some people come in dragging their yelling crying asshole infants with them, all full of attitude, demanding and laying down ultimatums. Where they go wrong is assuming we actually give a shit about anything anymore. We've all been layed off. Everybody. It just hasn't kicked in yet (give it a week and a half). Nobody gives more then a minimal fuck about anything in the store. If you treat us poorly, we won't be kicked around, we won't take it like dumb corporate drone sheep clerks. We are just putting in time now. If you are a dick to us, we will absolutely be a dick to you. I will not tolerate your idiocy or your hamfisted douchebag approach to what should just be a simple transaction.
Thanks to all the people out there who have been cool during the insanity and unpredictability of this bankruptcy situation, and a big middle finger to everybody who apparently wasn't raised with any manners. You insensitive bastards.
Other news I'm stoked to be done working soon. I'm glad my birthday is coming up (I didn't die this year!). I'm glad I have some true and loyal friends to get my back. I'm irrationally excited that I was retweeted by Lisa Lampanelli (LOVE HER). I'm excited to get back to Bend, and I'm excited to go through the next month and a half here in the Rocky Fuckin Mountains. I'm glad I'm me.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Post's done.
So sorry to everyone that I haven't put anything new up. And by everyone I mean my sister. Hi Erin. SO. Not an entirely impressive report to make I'm afraid. Work at the ol' corporate bookstore is winding down and life as an employed contributing member of society will soon be a thing of the past. In the meantime, more time to ski. Or whatever. The skiing has been great, I'd like to write up a whole post just talking about it, but I'm just kind of maybe possibly getting to the point where I'm like fuck this snow, give me some sunshine! Anyways there will be plenty of time still for sunshine, we leave here end of April for Bend, and oh how it will be good to be back. It's been an amazing goddamn winter that I'll never forget (except the nights I never remembered), but it'll just be nice to see 'home' again. Go to our bars, tip our bartenders, pick up on our girls (or your girls), talk to our friends.
Addendum. Things I'm really into right now, Charlie Sheen and everything he says or does, being a bigger asshole to asshole customers in front of my manager with total freedom, Donettes, going to bed.
Addendum. Things I'm really into right now, Charlie Sheen and everything he says or does, being a bigger asshole to asshole customers in front of my manager with total freedom, Donettes, going to bed.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Tattoo Rants
As someone who is heavily tattooed I apparently fit into some sort of sub genre of human according to a certain set of people. To me getting tattooed is a way of life. It's something I've been fascinated by since I was a little kid and saw my first set of sleeves. My tiny brain couldn't quite comprehend exactly what I was looking at, or how it was possible, but I knew I wanted some of those. I started getting tattooed when I was 18, and in a couple weeks I'll be 25. I've come a long way since that first tattoo, my one color piece, a sacred heart on my back with a banner reading 'Veritas', Latin for 'truth'. Over the years I've built my tattoo collection in different states with different artists on all different parts of my body. Currently I have two nearly finished sleeves, an LA on one ankle as a memento to living there, and a full chest piece I plan on expanding into a full torso piece. I want to get to a position in life where I'm financially and jobwise set to where I can tattoo my neck and my hands. Each and every single tattoo I have I remember the needle hitting my skin, I remember where I was and who I was with and where I was in life. They are milestones and markers that for me, I display on my body, permanently and proudly.
I get that it's not for everyone. For some people they will never get a tattoo and never be missing out on anything in their lives, completely fulfilled in the skin they came into this world in. Some people just get one, or two, or several small pieces throughout their lives. Some people take it an entirely different level and tattoo their heads and faces, their eyelids. All of these are perfectly acceptable for the people who's choices they are. That's what they are, individuals making choices, choices that nobody else can judge or be party to, because what's displayed on my body or anybody else's is mine and their own damn business, respectively. I've had very visible tattoos for a few years now, and I'm used to the looks, the comments, the questions. When they come from somebody who is actually interested in tattoos, or wants to discuss where mine where done, by whom, or just to compliment my art, then all is good in jolly old. It's the people who look down their noses at you and ask snotty questions about how much money you must have wasted on that and why would you put yourself through that pain and my personal favorite 'You know those are going to be there forever right?' No you stupid asshole I've spent thousands of dollars and probably a hundred plus hours of discomfort and they DON'T WASH OFF??!?! Oh my God I've been had! I'm used to that kind of ignorant BS, like the guy who asked me if I had 'all them things' (my sleeves) so that if ya ever get decapitated you can be identified', but it more then makes up for it when somebody just comes up to you out of the blue and says 'Hey I like your tattoos.' It makes me feel good. It makes me proud to be displaying such quality work, and I have no problem spending twenty minutes pointing out who did what and how they are done in such differing styles from artist to artist. How my left sleeve is done in a ridiculously detailed black and grey shading, how you can tell the artist (Tom Clark, Fullerton CA) has been around a long time and has honed his craft and has worked to become very good. How my right sleeve is done in sweeping bold art (Nick Pulzone, Salem OR), an in your face style by probably the most natural artist I've ever met, that asserts itself and is not only incredibly well executed but aesthetically pleasing in every way. How my chest was done in one single sitting at the Portland Tattoo Expo (Nick) in front of hundreds of people, six hours straight made possible by large doses of percocet and intermittent cigarette breaks.
The interesting thing is, I HATE getting tattooed. It fuckin hurts. Some people will tell you it's just a warm tingling feeling, or that they like it. I can absolutely believe liking the rush of a new tattoo, but the actual process of applying said tattoo is never going to be something I like. I love my tattoos though, I love my friends tattoos, I love looking at and talking about tattoos. Thats something I'll never apologize for and I'll never change. Getting tattooed until I die or run out of space, and to the people who can't except that or who think they can judge what I do, well you know where you can go.
It was hell. In case you were wondering. See me for directions, I've vacationed there from time to time.
I get that it's not for everyone. For some people they will never get a tattoo and never be missing out on anything in their lives, completely fulfilled in the skin they came into this world in. Some people just get one, or two, or several small pieces throughout their lives. Some people take it an entirely different level and tattoo their heads and faces, their eyelids. All of these are perfectly acceptable for the people who's choices they are. That's what they are, individuals making choices, choices that nobody else can judge or be party to, because what's displayed on my body or anybody else's is mine and their own damn business, respectively. I've had very visible tattoos for a few years now, and I'm used to the looks, the comments, the questions. When they come from somebody who is actually interested in tattoos, or wants to discuss where mine where done, by whom, or just to compliment my art, then all is good in jolly old. It's the people who look down their noses at you and ask snotty questions about how much money you must have wasted on that and why would you put yourself through that pain and my personal favorite 'You know those are going to be there forever right?' No you stupid asshole I've spent thousands of dollars and probably a hundred plus hours of discomfort and they DON'T WASH OFF??!?! Oh my God I've been had! I'm used to that kind of ignorant BS, like the guy who asked me if I had 'all them things' (my sleeves) so that if ya ever get decapitated you can be identified', but it more then makes up for it when somebody just comes up to you out of the blue and says 'Hey I like your tattoos.' It makes me feel good. It makes me proud to be displaying such quality work, and I have no problem spending twenty minutes pointing out who did what and how they are done in such differing styles from artist to artist. How my left sleeve is done in a ridiculously detailed black and grey shading, how you can tell the artist (Tom Clark, Fullerton CA) has been around a long time and has honed his craft and has worked to become very good. How my right sleeve is done in sweeping bold art (Nick Pulzone, Salem OR), an in your face style by probably the most natural artist I've ever met, that asserts itself and is not only incredibly well executed but aesthetically pleasing in every way. How my chest was done in one single sitting at the Portland Tattoo Expo (Nick) in front of hundreds of people, six hours straight made possible by large doses of percocet and intermittent cigarette breaks.
The interesting thing is, I HATE getting tattooed. It fuckin hurts. Some people will tell you it's just a warm tingling feeling, or that they like it. I can absolutely believe liking the rush of a new tattoo, but the actual process of applying said tattoo is never going to be something I like. I love my tattoos though, I love my friends tattoos, I love looking at and talking about tattoos. Thats something I'll never apologize for and I'll never change. Getting tattooed until I die or run out of space, and to the people who can't except that or who think they can judge what I do, well you know where you can go.
It was hell. In case you were wondering. See me for directions, I've vacationed there from time to time.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
DFW
I don't really have anything to write about except an update on me and what I'm doing. Starting to actually look forward to going back to Bend in April. Garrett is leaving to go back April 20th, I may come back with him. Everybody else will be here til the end of April. Border's filed Chapter 11 and are closing 200 out of their 500 stores, including the one I work at here. I was a barista, but the cafe closed already, so now I'm a floor employee. To anywhere from tomorrow to mid April. Layoffs will be happening frequently, and I'm just a seasonal employee anyways so I'll be the first to go. Pretty much just going with the flow right now.
Looking forward to being back in Bend, but as for how long I don't know. Maybe a few weeks. Maybe the summer. A lot of that depends on whether or not I officially start at Leading Edge to be a helicopter pilot, and/or when I start. No rush, I want to be confident in the decisions I make. I don't know how good this summer in Bend will be, and last summer will be hard to beat. We had Erik and I in the cave, Stephen and Marta upstairs, Austin and Garrett two blocks down, and all our favorite bars within easy stumbling distance. Last summer was endless games of wallball, video games, joints, parties, decks, sunshine, beer, friends, the official formation of the W5. This summer Erik and Stephen will be mentoring kids at camp (scary thought), Marta's off discovering herself in Israel, Kaylin moved to Ashland and will probably be assimilated into hippie culture, the Amy's moved to Washington, and it'll be a different and less colorful and exciting place (Bend). Add to that there is apparently somebody back in my hometown that I don't want to see or run into, but with the circles we travel it's inevitable. Strangely enough I really wish I could be this guy's friend, I do miss hanging out, I miss what was once my closest friend. He choose a path that doesn't allow us to be friends though, and seeing him again it would've once been hard not to take out his teeth. I don't have the motivation anymore though, the fire I had a year ago wouldn't have let me stop until I heard things breaking, but its died down to burning coals. Anger and disappointment that I could misjudge people so badly, that he could value our friendship that little. I'll deal with that when it comes up though, and I'm tired of thinking about this so, moving on.
I don't have a car, I don't have a home, and I'm really not looking forward to crashing at my parents house again. Then again my moms is great, she cooks, it's cheap, and she'd love to have me around, at least for a while, so I suppose thats the route to start at. Wherever I am or I end up, I'm going to make the best of it, and do my best to enjoy the shit out of life, have as much fun as I can whenever I can. All I have ahead of me are options, possibilities, and potential, and that sounds pretty damn good to me right now.
Looking forward to being back in Bend, but as for how long I don't know. Maybe a few weeks. Maybe the summer. A lot of that depends on whether or not I officially start at Leading Edge to be a helicopter pilot, and/or when I start. No rush, I want to be confident in the decisions I make. I don't know how good this summer in Bend will be, and last summer will be hard to beat. We had Erik and I in the cave, Stephen and Marta upstairs, Austin and Garrett two blocks down, and all our favorite bars within easy stumbling distance. Last summer was endless games of wallball, video games, joints, parties, decks, sunshine, beer, friends, the official formation of the W5. This summer Erik and Stephen will be mentoring kids at camp (scary thought), Marta's off discovering herself in Israel, Kaylin moved to Ashland and will probably be assimilated into hippie culture, the Amy's moved to Washington, and it'll be a different and less colorful and exciting place (Bend). Add to that there is apparently somebody back in my hometown that I don't want to see or run into, but with the circles we travel it's inevitable. Strangely enough I really wish I could be this guy's friend, I do miss hanging out, I miss what was once my closest friend. He choose a path that doesn't allow us to be friends though, and seeing him again it would've once been hard not to take out his teeth. I don't have the motivation anymore though, the fire I had a year ago wouldn't have let me stop until I heard things breaking, but its died down to burning coals. Anger and disappointment that I could misjudge people so badly, that he could value our friendship that little. I'll deal with that when it comes up though, and I'm tired of thinking about this so, moving on.
I don't have a car, I don't have a home, and I'm really not looking forward to crashing at my parents house again. Then again my moms is great, she cooks, it's cheap, and she'd love to have me around, at least for a while, so I suppose thats the route to start at. Wherever I am or I end up, I'm going to make the best of it, and do my best to enjoy the shit out of life, have as much fun as I can whenever I can. All I have ahead of me are options, possibilities, and potential, and that sounds pretty damn good to me right now.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Faded Ramblings
Technology kinda freaks me out when I stop to think about it. Which I do, occasionally. I remember when cell phones were a huge deal. I remember when we got our first family cell phone. I was probably 10. One of those old bulky Nokia's with the tiny yellowish screen. It cost one billion dollars a month and we got 18 minutes of talk time and if we called somebody further away then Redmond it ran 19.00 a minute. I remember getting my first cell phone, a blue screen standard Mitsubishi, I was probably a freshmen or sophomore in high school. None of this really has any point or relevance other then that I'm typing this entry on my phone. Which is one of the most amazing and versatile things I own today. If there was a fire I would save three things, my 42" flatscreen, my laptop, and my phone. Which also happens to be my iPod. Which also happens to be my detailed calendar, my actual address book, ect ect blah blah blah. It does nearly everything my laptop does and it fits nicely in my hand. Ten years ago this kinda shit was a dream for the average Joe. Now you've got little kids in diapers with Blackberries and iPhones. I remember what a huge deal it was to have a DVD player on a laptop, if you even had a laptop. Now I can watch fucking Inception on HD on my cellphone because my Blu-Ray disc came with a digital copy. It's insane to for me to think of a generation growing up with all this crap readily available and provided by parents even.
I know there wasn't a point to this but sometimes you just have to get faded and think then write about what's on your mind. No matter how mundane or pedestrian a read it may be. If you are even still reading I salute you. From my godamned can't live without it phone.
In closing, a quote I think we could all take some time to think on.
"Shut up."
- Stephen Haze (in regards to...anything)
I know there wasn't a point to this but sometimes you just have to get faded and think then write about what's on your mind. No matter how mundane or pedestrian a read it may be. If you are even still reading I salute you. From my godamned can't live without it phone.
In closing, a quote I think we could all take some time to think on.
"Shut up."
- Stephen Haze (in regards to...anything)
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