Ramblitude
as if anyone’s reading this. i should be asleep, but instead i type random, superficial, anecdotal crappage that seems to spew from my fingertips when confronted with these little boxes of space. perhaps all this stuff is really just commentary on my own thoughts?
does that make sense?
like i’m having a conversation with myself, and then writing down my thoughts about the conversation that the imaginary readers never hear.
as if i’m writing stuff that i really want someone to read, but at the same time, not really.
because i’d rather not anyone know what i think up in these spots of time. they might see into this big empty head of mine and see that there’s nothing but a vast ocean of home-made cotton candy.
all this of course, i think up on the moment and continue to type. and then when i’m finished, i’ll still hit “POST”.
i hit ‘post’ cuz i probably really want people to read this. perhaps if they do, they might think i’m cooler than the little doodles i paste all over. maybe they’ll think there’s more to me than just the cartoons and big nose. or maybe they’ll see thru it all and know the narcissistic fool i really am.
hmm…
or maybe this is all carefully crafted punctuation lacking fluff. that really this is all a cry for help.
help.
i’m not really that deep. cotton candy really does fill my head. i’m not all that interesting. my thoughts are never internal or reflective, they’re just all on the surface and anecdotal. not because i’m all mysterious and don’t want you in my head, but rather because that’s just it…..i AM dull, superficial, arrogant, narcissistic, and full of a whole lotta useless.
and these little toons i draw are just my longings. my desire to be these simplistic line drawings. no cares, no flaws but those that can be erased, no purpose other than to bring delight, sadness, joy, whatever.
these concoctions of ink and pencil on paper are really who i WANT to be.
who i WISH to be ?
how i want to see the world?
how i wish everyone was?
approachable, uncomplicated, basic, smile-inducing, real.
maybe i draw to exist?
my drawings are a declaration of life.
my life. my existence.
i create to live. i live to create.
my validation is in these scribbles of graphite and ink. who i am becomes evident in my creations. through these i am alive.
hmm…
waaay to dramatic. i’m sleepy and i’ve been watching too much mexican television.
ke viva america, ke viva mexico, y ke viva peltolico!
por amor, por pasion, por vida!
man oh man, ‘narcissistic’ is a dollah-fifty word. why do i use it? and more than once? do i even know what it means? hmm…to lazy to look it up.
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