aftermath

this artist struck me as so hilarious and fantastic I could barely decide on a picture to show you, but alas i decided on toothbrush and paste after sex. i mean it really was an obvious choice.

getting ahold of your free time is way harder than you make it sound laying bed planning it all out. i suppose that is where i should be acquiring the motivation rather than fearing it.

leaps and bounds

i wish i didn't have so much to do. i wish i didn't have so little to worry about. if i could get out of here i would, and forget who we are.

serious patience

that is intense. i want to see more of this!!
source: http://gprime.net/images/sidewalkchalkguy/

how to train a broken heart

its not that i'm not happy now. its not that i'm not happy without him. thats not it at all. i guess i cant really say what it is. and its not like i give a shit anymore. i mean he could fall off of a cliff tomorrow and i still wouldn't care. i wouldn't regret not telling him anything or miss him or just simply be changed by the loss of his existence. in fact i'm glad i didn't say everything, glad i don't miss him, and thrilled that our existences don't disturb one another anymore. well i guess its nothing, then. but i know that its not. its like that empty feeling. and i'm not angry when i see him even though i sometimes say something rude about his appearance or his stupid jokes. and i don't even feel better. just the memory i would suppose that i hang on to. i don't want his friendship, his interest, or a place in his memory. its just that feeling i had, the intensity i felt, and the frayed ends i've left. i'm hoping i can eventually let this go or i might have to murder this memory.. somehow.