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I knew I wouldn't update this thing that often, but every once in awhile, if I've had a beer or two... or I've huffed a can of paint... I get the urge to become a professional writer. Albeit, not a very good one either.

I cannot stand people. I've brought up this discussion yesterday at work about how I truly dislike other people. Why can't I just deal with the people I want to? I am sick of outside influence and just other people in general. I live a nearly meaningless existence right now and things are never totally insured in my life. My job is, for the most part, like wet cement. It'll dry over time I suppose, but as long as I am consider part-time they can trod and walk on me and distort my shape. Usually with the unexpected cut of hours or the like, which always pisses me off. Then yet another dilemma in my existence is my existence in itself. I go to work, come home, read and research things, do this and that at home that never truly accomplishes anything. My days off are spent with me being under appreciated for the things I do and work toward and I am regarded as a "bad guy," in a sense.

Now I've lost the motivation to even keep writing, even though I've so much to say...

And we're off, with a video: