i wish i could’ve written something worthwhile.
or hell, longer than a few words, but i figure making at least a minimal effort is important.
how the hell did i end up wasting another night watching movies, when i should’ve been working on my art? i don’t know. it just seems to happen on its own, even if i know it doesn’t really.
i live a fucking boring life when i’m not drinking.
jiu jitsu tournament in a week so i’m abstaining from sex, drink and rock and roll, those things that inevitably lead me down the road to bad decisions and great stories.
in this abstemious state, i realize that i drink too much. i think i realized that awhile back when i was cutting back on it and felt like shit because of it. but hey.
alcohol, cheers to thee, my mistress, my lover, my spiteful friend.