I'm Not Drunk, I'm Just Bored (What Does This Shit Even Mean, Motherfucker?)

     Dizzy seemed like as good a state as any to be writing in . . . Not sure why I’m dizzy, I think it’s because I’m not quite sleepy, not quite awake, and when I move around a lot like that, it—wait, nevermind, I had Jameson and Amaretto in my two cups of Coke, earlier, while watching Firefly at a friend’s.

     [Yawns]

     I’m starting classes back on Monday, going to focus only on Art Studio studies this semester . . . Will be interesting, the whole “Going Blind” ordeal really soured being artistic for me, so it’s been awhile since I’ve really felt any strong pangs of passion about the whole practice. I bought a couple sketchbooks and a new pencil to try and kickstart my artistic tendencies, but it didn’t really work.

     I’m not sure what I’m doing with my life, but I’m twenty-two and I don’t think I’m meant to know. I’m the kind of guy who takes careful note of the fact that I started this and the last paragraph with the same word (“I’m”), the kind of guy who has a Blog and a LiveJournal, runs a D&D game and goes to college . . . Not sure what that means. I think it means I’m eclectic, but I think that whole “Hey, look at me, I’m indie” fad is bullshit, and I’m sick of posers who think it’s alright to pose so long as it’s not the “mainstream” or trendy thing to do. Posing is posing, poser.

     [Yawns]

     I’m listening to some Clutch—that’s three paragraphs, now—and I’ve got a beard. I shaved today, instead of trimming, because having a mirror with higher magnification caused me to be bothered by just trimming my neck, since I could clearly see all the hair still there in the real-close-up side of the mirror. This is the kind of style of writing and things I should reserve for actual . . . Writing, not rambling to my Blog.

I’m tired and I can't focus my eyes too well.