'round we go

i know it's probably extremely cliche to talk about how a hipster-doofus movie made me realize something about my life--even worse that said move was about existential philosophies and the doofuses that either spend entirely too much time thinking about them or not nearly enough. but, that's kinda what happened.

sometimes i refer to myself as a writer, but it's more in the sense that i feel i'm better at grasping the English language than most people i encounter on a daily basis. as far as actually writing, i would become extremely embarrassed to even share some of my latest. whether it's laziness or lack of talent, one of the two is the reason why i'm not completely thrilled with much of what i do. i'm kind of perpetuating my own turmoil by allowing this to happen. i claim to be passionate and i claim to be intense, but i think i'm more accurately defined as a fencerider. not that this is about definitions...

i've always been completely impressed by cyclical things: the water cycle, horses shitting and eating in the same field, the seasons, the sun, the moon, babies, sex, routine, interpersonal relationships, fashion, music. often, fearing the life/death cycle, humans spend much of life trying to break the commonality by doing something fantastic. something that is not in the cycle. something that is "unique." but even that, really, is all part of the blanket, my friends.

but let's not get depressed, ok?

it is so astonishingly wastful to dwell. to categorize. to assume.

i like to be funny, but i was just kidding. so please stop laughing.

and i absolutely guarantee that my next post will not be about myself. i'm gonna give that big ol' wheel a powerful spin.