one cool couple and my messy room

hi emily. hi randy.

i'm in the process of cleaning my room, which is so messy that it makes me all paralyzed, and not able to move. i just sit there, staring at the growing piles of clean, and dirty, laundry piles, and the mountains of loose papers and scraps of collaging material that just sits, balancing on top of each other, until someday it falls, but everything is so messy that no one really takes notice of the fall. see, right now i'm procrasintating cleaning. i will eventually have to get to a point where the mess leads me to be quite crazy and virtually unproductive, which normally won't bother me in the least, but now that i have this magazine brain child, i have to have a little bit more order in my life, as to fake being an "editor" and everything. I think that i am just having fun playing with titles of importance, but i'm realizing that titles don't really make you importance, they just make you think that you are. like i "think" that i'm doing something with my life now that i'm an "editor", like i'm not a loser anymore. ha ha. it's funny because in reality, I still don't really know what i'm suppose to be doing in life, or having it all together, i just know that going corporate isn't the way for me. I do not want to be stuck behind a desk, with office managers sucking out my soul with their hourly micromanaging. bitter? yes. i never said that i wasn't over being immature and angsty, if anything now i have a venue to be just that, perhaps a little bit more articulate than before.

... btw, issue one of EyeBall Burp is out.

Buy one, and support the independent artists and writers and whathaveyous.

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