Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Courtesy Flush...

I've been thinking a lot about writing lately.... my first love..... I guess I've kind of left it... 'sold out a little bit... I suppose I could do it full time.. knock out pages and pages, daily.... I'd have to get used to sleeping on cement though.... true suffering for the art...... Some people suggest that it requires a sort of balancing act..... I don't entirely (at all, really) agree... I wouldn't care much for that diluted lifestyle.... I'd rather be a square in a necktie than a phony with Ray-Bans and a closet full of flannel...... And I don't ever want to come off as presumptuous... you know?... Why should I feel that anyone cares about what I'm writing...? or that they may be at all impressed with anything that I may have come up with?... but I love to tell stories..... and I hate to shove them away in my closet after they've been written and never allow them the chance to be appreciated by eyes other than my own... as if they've the right to be appreciated anyway.... I just..... get tired of my thoughts... on reality.... because.... in reality... I'll never reveal them to you.... and we'll just go on playing this big game.... and you'll smile, and I'll smile..... and everyone will play nice.... and I should know better by now....... I know.....

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