There is no home like the one I know
Landlords suck. For the most part. Our studio landlord is cool. But our house landlord is an epic shit. This incredible shack for which we pay far too much for…I have grown indignant.
We as humans, need individual pause buttons. But that’s selfish.
I don’t want to rent anymore. I want to buy. I want a house, a house I want. That way, I could just write about how much I think I’m being an epic shit. It’s way funnier in this manner.
There can be only one.
In the far off distance I can see the rippling tide, swaying and swelling amongst the backdrop of a tireless existence…the gray shadows of the earth’s crown, weigh heavy; our tiny reflections against its starry stare..do nothing in changing the beginning and end of time.
Inside, outside…it’s all the same when you’re alive.
When I see a pile of folded clothes, or cluster of vegetation in the wild, I like to imagine that I am but just a small creature amongst its many patterns of solitude. I like to play with the idea that an endless amount of adventure awaits the human eye when looking at something so much smaller than oneself.
As far as the I can see, all this — yours.
According to the Mayan Calendar, we’re in the last Night cycle…which means that everything is in maximum suck-overdrive. Weeding out the weak, weeding out the strong, weeding out the lonely, weeding out the lovely. If we make it through this, then it was meant to be.
I’m easy to get along with, but hard to get to know.
Just a collection of pictures with words, that’s all this is, that’s all it’s meant to be… In the last two years since I’ve been back in Austin, I too, have experienced what one calls: destitution.
This is a good example of what I do well.
My father didn’t exactly teach me chess…but my older brother did. I’ve won against him a handful of times, but I’ve never once beat my father at the game. It’s been a source of great inspiration.
