A Day Late, A Buck Short.
October 31, 2007So I'll be taking some time off of writing, and I'll be internetally invisible for a few months. No, I'm not going through any of that existentialist bullshit, nor will I spend this time off to sulk and blame myself or the world. I'm actually being proactive in going about my situation. I already have a three-step plan in motion, though they don't have to be in particular order. One may pose a difficulty, monetarily, and another will test my very weak, little girly-like threshold for pain. The third one won't be a problem. Or so I've been told my whole post-pubescent life.
I also aim to do things which I haven't done as much in a while, like visit old friends, discover new music, catch up on my TNA, wall-climb or play badminton, watch more than one movie in a day with the use of my ultra-sexy MTRCB Deputy card, and hit on the ladies that hand me my parking tickets at the mall.
Anyway. Yeah. Hiatus. It sucks that I'm temporarily giving up things like writing and wandering these forums, things which I consider to be my more significant escapes, but I wouldn't be doing this if it weren't necessary. I just need to do away with certain aspects of my life to completely clear my head and shit. Because we all need to clear our heads and shit sometimes. It says so in the Bible. Isn't that right, Buff Jesus Taking Out the Trash While Texting His Good Friend Dennis?
I have no regrets, and I wouldn't have done things any other way. I wish for a lot of things to be/have been different, though. There's a difference. It's like I now realize that no matter what I did, the results would have been the same. I wished for different results. Not "expected," but "wished for." Well I guess this is growing up. "Tab it to experience," she always said.
Anyway. Yeah. Hiatus. Starting now. But not before I leave with a song that truly reflects the meaning of my existence. I mean, if I had a Delorean, I'd go back in time to the day I was born and blast this motherfucker, John Cusack in Say Anything-style, as my Mom goes into labor, and I'd be all up in Baby Coco's face like: "You will go through plenty of shit when you grow up, but you need to get yourself together you son of a bitch, and you'll have this song to remind you of how better things can be! Now go, child! Go live your life like there's no tomorrow!"
Someone had too much sugar in their coffee this morning. The point is, Baby Coco didn't grow up to be a jackass like Sisqo. And I'm still me. Just an overly and uncharacteristically depressed me. Hence the necessity for a break. I'll be back sometime next year. And that's my Martha Stewart complex talking. I like to think ahead. So toodles, for now.
