Why? Because I'm special. Special as a stomach pump. Just like everybody else. The wonderful blogger Finslippy is special as a mysterious foreign postcard in the mail, and she has these feelings, too. Except her can talken more betterer then mine. Seems like everyone I know is having a hard time with the creative product coming out of their head, not just me, lately. Read it up, and if you don't believe me or her, listen to Ira Glass. That guy really fucken knows what he's talking about.
Monday, September 15, 2008
wonderful words by someone else but me
I've been having a wonderful/terrible time lately with motivation and creativity. I mean, up until about 6 months ago it was just a terrible time, so that's better. It's just now I kind of still feel that icky feeling a lot of the time, but I find it hopelessly funny. What? I'll never amount to anything? I'm a terrible artist/writer/person/friend/daughter/pet owner? Everyone has these feelings and they never go away, no matter how hard you try to do better or ignore them? Then I roll out of my chair in genuine, life-affirming laughter. Which usually pisses me off.
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