i do nothing on a regular basis.
yet, everything is happening constantly.
i 'm even struggling right now,
trying to think of something to say and i find that odd (for more than one obvious reason),
but not surprising.
but, that's neither here nor there
or original or interesting.
i'm even going back, looking at what i've typed
thinking how "constantly" could be "happening" and "happening", "constantly" and what
that flow would be like. too bad.
and now... it seems almost existential.
pangs of guilt and shame for my apparent lack of ?
inspiration? insight? bullshit?
augh, so 'this' is the postmodern experience. i was wondering.
blog#1
blog on.
keep on blogin on...
it's a long blog highway,
blog now or forever keep the peace.
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