Aye

I don't care that it's late. I'm not drunk. I was tired tonight and then I had energy and then I was tired and then I got very hungry and then I ate and then I got tired because I ate as much as I could and then work got me tired even more so and my mind hurt(ed) because what I do that pays the bills' :) hurts and hurts and hurts my heads' :) and my souls' :) and then The Deus Ex Machina Super-Duper/Future Scissors' :) come out and it cuts' :) out my spirits' :) and it doesn't bother to cut within the lines and then my sloppy spirits' :) is all-splayed out and like, you know, like, it's all sloppy and the the Elmers Glue Stick poops out from the edges and I get all, like embarrassed and stuff because if I'm going to let you peek at my private parts and then, like...

Then what?

Uuurgggghhhh. I've been doing teen angst for way too long.
Uuurgggghhhh. I've been doing adult angst for way too long.

I don't care that it's late.

So, what then?

I'm embarrassed about the stuff that I let you peek at and I'm embarrassed that I'm a sloppy writer and I'm embarrassed that this is one of the only conduits that I have left and I'm sorry that I'm a whiny writer and I apologetically apologize for (non)writing about my work, my energy, my mind on my money and my money on my minds' :)

I don't care that it's late.
I          care now.
I don't care.
It's late.
I care.
I don't.


Now what?

:)