Fugue

Okay okay.

I went off a little half-cocked yesterday.

I got freaked out about life and I gave up on something I love. In the hours since, I’ve wondered what I’ll do with all this free time, and I’ve come up with nothing.

Here’s the deal.

Maybe I do need to come up with ways to get paid writing, but it doesn’t mean I have to stop engaging in this bullshit navel gazing. I can do both.

It’s also pretty counterproductive to cut my nose off to spite my face by going cold turkey here. Maybe I need to come up with stupid fucking tshirt ideas to make myself feel better. I dunno. Bottom line is though, I’m a flighty craphead and I’m back.

The live video I did tonight was nice. Maybe when I’m feeling closed in and alone, I’ll start logging on. It brings out something I enjoy, and DEM HORMONES. There are so many delicious attention holes I haven’t exploited here.

I also dare say I’m the most honest person when it comes to this. I need you, dear reader/watcher. YOU COMPLETE ME.

Anyway, my coworkers are about to rise up in revolt. I’ll see you Monday for sure.

Love,

Bobby