Chunkie's burriitttoos, tattoos, and busy birthdays
I haven't written in here in quite a long while. Although this may be could for my psyche and such, it really is all part of a master plan of procrastination. That could really be the explaination for my entire life actually.
Quick Update:
I now work 1 main job, the photography studio. I also have a job a special events as an assistant to another photographer, but that only happens periodically. Things at the record store are a bit in the slums, but soon hopefully luck will be in my favor. Things just take time I guess. Thank god I am somewhat of a mature person.
Saturday's my birthday. Woo!. Not really. I could honestly care less about 17. Seventeen years of being alive, seventeen years, of breathing, just existing.
18 will be much better.
Then I can do whatever the fuck I want, without being judged primarily on my age and those who are my peers. Which brings me to my next topic. Tattoos. I am obsessed. Just the thought of someone's art on my body is so wonderfully exciting. Almost exhilarating, even. I guess since I look at the world as a canvas, my body should be one as well. Everything should be. Otherwise creation would cease to exist.
I am a much different person that I was when I turned 16. So much has happened.
I fell in love, I met my Swedish soulmate, I turned into an Anarchist, I rode my bike more, I made more art, I become more concious of the world around me. I grew. That's life. Growth.
To conclude this somewhat meaningless babble, I will say that burrittos, hands down, will make any day better. Especially with a good friend. Burrittos and laughter. Fool-proof.
Friday I will capture Ben's soul with my camera. Saturday I will be a year older.
Sunday will begin a new phase.
Quick Update:
I now work 1 main job, the photography studio. I also have a job a special events as an assistant to another photographer, but that only happens periodically. Things at the record store are a bit in the slums, but soon hopefully luck will be in my favor. Things just take time I guess. Thank god I am somewhat of a mature person.
Saturday's my birthday. Woo!. Not really. I could honestly care less about 17. Seventeen years of being alive, seventeen years, of breathing, just existing.
18 will be much better.
Then I can do whatever the fuck I want, without being judged primarily on my age and those who are my peers. Which brings me to my next topic. Tattoos. I am obsessed. Just the thought of someone's art on my body is so wonderfully exciting. Almost exhilarating, even. I guess since I look at the world as a canvas, my body should be one as well. Everything should be. Otherwise creation would cease to exist.
I am a much different person that I was when I turned 16. So much has happened.
I fell in love, I met my Swedish soulmate, I turned into an Anarchist, I rode my bike more, I made more art, I become more concious of the world around me. I grew. That's life. Growth.
To conclude this somewhat meaningless babble, I will say that burrittos, hands down, will make any day better. Especially with a good friend. Burrittos and laughter. Fool-proof.
Friday I will capture Ben's soul with my camera. Saturday I will be a year older.
Sunday will begin a new phase.