To skim through this blog quickly, only read the large text, the smaller text are unnecessary ramblings from your one and only...
Living 24-7 with Internet people with barely any other friends or contacts in a hyper-intense city can be fucking stressful, yo.
I've been adding 'yo' to the end of a lot of my sentences lately, which reminds me, I must stop...yo. DAMMIT! So close to glory. It always alludes me.
I've been feeling very sulky and sad for the last couple of days because I've been sick and I hate being sick, and I am extremely into the bright-eyed world of Internet Consumption right now and dislike being pulled away from guzzling on the nozzle of my rusty tap of corrosive entertainment.
There is something about crap that I find so endearing. The fact that it was made. It's pungent innocence. I simply adore it. And when I must leave it for the real world aka work, I can not be motivated.
I am disappointed at the fact that I only seem to be able to do a job if I am completely content and inspired.
Today, for example, I did not wake up very happy.
Last night was dramatic in the household and nothing was achieved at all (thought it was nice to see Luke come back and fill his position as Head and Only Male of the House of the Internet), so I went to bed tired and sick and woke up to continuing disappointment.
The only way I could get my groove back was by turing on Pandora and side-stepping out to the Teen Pop stream. There is something about the Disney Teenyboppers, and Popular Music circa 2000-2004 that just gets me back in the right mood. The happy, inspiring, I can do anything mood.
You know what it is? It's a memory. When I was dancing around the house to popular music (and I listen to much more teenybopper music now than I did then) I was younger and excited about the future. Sometimes it was scary, but I knew (in my little, generic pre-real life kills your dreams heart) that I was destined to be something great. So I would dance around my room, my house or in dance class to the pop music of the time. I guess my memory has not yet forgotten the joyous sensations of body movement and performing. I really must get back into it before all is lost.
Ladies and Gentleman, if you can do me a favour and ask me if I've started going to dance class any time we speak, that would be most helpful. An e-punch in the face would also be most appreciated.
There really isn't much else needed to be said, I guess. I've got to take a leaf from Nike and 'just do it'.
I'm very happy with what I do at the moment, that's not a problem. It's about doing more. I did more as a 12 year old than I do now. I use to write and write, books of scripts - complete scripts - stories... I used to draw so much, and these days I would struggle to even compete with my 11 year old self at drawing a cartoon person.
I struggle so much with ideas and inspiration. It's almost like I can't go forward until I complete what I already started creating. I am worried that I am losing that inner-child or inner-cat that finds everything so fascinating and plays there way through life. I must win it back. I will.
It's just fear. When did I become so afraid? I use to bound down staircases as a toddler without holding onto the sides while my brother use to tip toe down them holding on the railings. When did I lose the sense of self-assurance? How can I get it back? When will I stop caring?
Honestly, people... I'm like, the human version of Radio. I'll just keep holding panels and talking about my problems instead of actually doing anything about it... over and over until my 'medium' dies out. Great.
That was depressing! Let's listen to Demi Lovato right fucking now!!!