i have a fondness for commas.
i update far too little, but here is the truth:
angst = creativity, and i left most of that behind in my youth.
i mourn it, on occasion, but truth be told, wouldn't you rather wake up in the morning, happy, than filled with turmoil and mildly brilliant, in a way that is contrived, cliche, and will never be worth anything or observed?
wouldn't it be better to enjoy life for you instead of hoping, someday, in some fit of lucid melancholy that you will say something, anything of worth?
and here is the truth - i have been chasing peace, and happiness, as well. BUT sometimes, regardless, the melancholy finds me.
i believe. i believe, I BELIEVE.
but i have also drank myself to sleep every night for a week.
unrelated, but cliche (see above):
i realized this week that experience trumps possession.
you can only take experience to your grave.
1:38 a.m. - 2012-07-13