#thoughts

I think God is telling me I'm not going to ever be successful, and that is where I should put my happiness...

If I were truly wise, I would spend as much time raising my daughter as I do on my writing. I know this because if I had to give up one, I'd choose my daughter.

Did you ever have such a wonderful morning that you're overwhelmed by a sense of impending doom?

I am no Mark Twain, I'm clumsy and a little stupid.

Why would you go on Twitter and post shit when you can make your own app and post into the either.

I'm one of those special types of losers that like to fail publicly, rather than keep that shit to myself.

I've come so far mentally, but fatter for the whole experience, and with bad teeth, my breath is fine, mind you. I owe it all to my lovely wife, married circa 2013; I'm not mathing at this hour. Oh, and Jesus, when I'm not trying to actively avoid his word, ensuring the changes in me aren't so radical that I move to a South American village and start proselytising.

I really don't think anyone should be subjected to reading this particular piece of writing; it's a plain old biscuit. But I move forward knowing there are probably other things that could be said, none of which come to mind at present.

Those who try to be the most normal, the most sane, are the craziest of all.