Dreams and thoughts and whispers of late
do I ponder into the night and morn
Wondering what? That I might escape the inevitable?
days more empty than nights,
filled with accursed comfort
and a curious hunger for nothing more.
Perception and perspective are more hateful than I
who would sacrifice purity for that which /might be/

Is it just me or does almost all freeform poetry sound emo?
Anyway I gotta get up off my fatskinny ass and go looking for a job.
And I'm not the only one with this problem, just the only one I know

I'm sorry I haven't put up any new art, but I'm still without a tablet despite my mother's promises and recent trip to cuba. Thanks to my aunt I have some new artbooks that are actually helping and that's one of the few things that can drag me away from the X-box, which curseth me with sloth. In unrelated news I have become very efficient at Nazi Zombies Verruckt, If anyone who can actually play past round 20 wants to, I'll have a game with them.




Also a recent bout of introspect has lead me to realize that I dislike people.
I feel compelled by nature to help them, but growing up I was bullied SO MUCH, that any sudden movements will lead me to believe I am being attacked. Despite loving every single one of them, I actually hate people, and I live in one of the nicest places on the planet other than Finland. Dear GOD the human race is FUCKED.