23.6.08

sniff.

It's not so much the busy killing me. It's not. Really. I like to be busy. That's not the struggle with time I have. I just want to sometimes fold all of it in half and get where I want to be. I like busy.

I like working hard. It's something to be proud of, all this simple things so far away from the drama of the 20s and the angst and shit. All the things I wanted are still there, and I'm really enjoying the feeling of self sacrifice. The biggest part is that this less self centric place I'm living in is that I want to help other people be more of themselves. I like putting myself on a shelf for a while.

The problem is I'm happy. Happy Motherfuckers don't write songs. They just don't need to. All the attention and the "need to be heard" shit is coming out on Jenny. Courting strangers is tough work and I'm not sure how up to it I am.

So I recommit to this practice thing. I'm going to be chasing everyone out there with an opportunity to make music down. I want the opportunities. I want so much.


Time.

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