i started writing this post yesterday:
some people think it’s easier to make up stories than compose an article. in some cases it is, though personally, my stories don’t necessarily take longer to write - the problem lies in letting it out. it’s like farting in a way; sometimes you just can’t let it rip for the sake of social etiquette or what not. it’s like constipation, shit builds up inside and you find that you can’t shit it out like you normally can.
then thought, why the fuck am i sharing this shit to the world? bah. i’m in one of those it’s-impossible-to-care-less moods once again, and whenever i’m in one of these phases it really is impossible to care less, or do anything for that matter. i hate this kind of feeling, especially when there are things i actually need to care about.
like the alternative alamat thing, for example. i’ve found a good story to write about, though everything’s so hazy i can’t find the right flow or rhythm to it. anyway, sigh. this is getting annoying. you know you’ve got to do something when you’re starting to annoy yourself.
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