i was in the laundryroom, washing my clothes, doing some homework (already, i know) and i just couldn't shake these memories of her. they were silly little memories, phone calls from years ago, before all of this strife, postcards from florida with sketches of seashell bongs on the back, the endless supply of pink and purple gel pens that she had.
weird.
it's like hitting a brick wall. things go so fast and then... nothing. we'll see how this pans out.
today was uneventful. i went to class, i came here, i washed my clothes, i watched some futurama, i ate, i drew.
it's weird, i always come to a point when i'm drawing where i'm faced with the decision to continue working or to give up. i usually give up. it's not that i'm lazy, but i get to a point where i just don't care anymore. i get to a point where the inspiration is gone and i'm left with trying to make it look good. i don't operate like that. call it a lack of dedication, but i say you can't get blood from a stone.
what the fuck am i talking about?
it's 2am. i'm going to watch futurama until i pass out.
bye!
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