shoting star

i could scream. this lack of self control is starting to scare me. whatever happened? I am a self proclaimed control addict. i need to be in control, i need power..i hunger for it. 

its 547 and i just woke up with the biggest craving for juice. fruit. i stumbled out to that vending machine that never works and guess what the fucker didnt work. nothing that belongs to me in the fridge. bastards

God i need to get off my arse. 

The problem with having mondays off. is that on friday, almost subconsciously there is a loong weekend, on saturday, there still is sunday and monday. on sunday there is a tingling of panic but still hey, THERE STILL IS MONDAY LEFT RIGHT.

fyufagajsighashl

How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot, The world forgetting, by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd

Wake

there is no time, no space; just thoughts, a flowing consciousness. it moves what we perceive as distance is objects around us. Time is but a subconscious method of organizing - sequencing emotions and discussions.

the things - signboards, trains colours shapes are living breathing manifestations of our thoughts, perceived only as is by the thoughts that perceive it. a complex paradigm soup, that we colour and taste to our preference, either knowingly more often than not un. We live in a dream, dream in a live.   

Until it Sleeps

I woke up with the worst headache.

The thing about typing is you cant squeeze the ink out of your pen. Feels unnatural, forced.

Chuck Lorre Productions, #212

I believe that the voices of fear, both from without
and within, can only be dispelled by trusting the
voice that comes from the heart. Be still and listen
to it. If it speaks of love and compassion for
other, for the world itself, it just might be the
voice of God -- or a reasonable facsimile. If,
however, it snarls with fear of the unknown, fear
of losing what you have or of not getting what you
want, then it just might be the voice of Rupert
Murdoch -- or a reasonable facsimile.

Joe Says Perky Tits

Been a while eh,

I Don't Think I Can Be An Artist.

There is a problem, having a penchant for pessimism;

personally your work is never good enough for yourself. 

I have an irressistable tendancy to prod and poke, cut and paste;

And when finally some degree of satisfaction is attained, nobody likes it anymore. 

Worse, - damn it - you forget what you were doing in the first place