And here I sit, amidst the best made plans of men. God help us all.
It seems that creativity is usually not a pleasant experience for those who are deemed to be so. Maybe creativity is little more than an attempt to "correct" the world around you. Maybe there is balance, harmony, or dare i say, peace in the acceptance of the mundane. Maybe that's why it seems like so many so-called "normal" people appear to be so content. They make no attempts to alter their reality, which allows them to completely focus on whatever problems they think they have.
As people, we are all probably doing the best we can with the tools and the vices that we have been given. That scares the shit out of me.
On the subject of the opposite sex: I like her body so much, so very much, but her mind is making it very difficult for me to listen to anything she is saying. And as my days go down into the west, it is becoming increasingly difficult to pretend like we're connecting.
I want an indie woman. A woman who makes her own clothes on occasion. I want her to turn me on to some music that I have never heard of. I want sleeves of tattoos to be adorned with rich green and red flowers. Black bangs and stainless steel piercings with "The Fashion" playing in the background. But no skinny jeans for me baby. I just can't rock em' right.