HA HA HA! You FOOLS! I made you believe I created content to post on this journal -- sure tricked you, huh?!
My bad, everyone. I haven't had a lot of time to just sit and type lately, much less really interact with anyone online. Between work and being really tired lately, I haven't wanted to hassle with an over-shared and unreliable dial-up Internet service. With a little scheduling strategy, perhaps you'll see more of me, and maybe I'll actually do something, anything; I want to shake off this lazy spell I'm under.
thetakogun is going to visit me for a night this Friday. He's on a road-trip back to Fairbanks, but he's taking social detours. Too bad I can't see raiblu with him, but his road plan isn't built to accomadate my job.
Just finished reading Samuel Delany's Dhalgren. I want one of their optic shields.
I can't wrtie any more right now. Every statement I make starts with an "I" and that upsets me somehow. I (SEE?!) want to be able to communicate, like a lot of the people I admire, but I just can't make this writing thing work, it feels like I'm missing a part of my brain that would let me do it, so whenever I attempt to write socially, like a comment on Livejournal or a piece of fiction, I feel like I'm riding a bike with a busted chain: I peddle, peddle, peddle but I'm not moving foward. Most of what I write, I destroy. I've typed hundreds of comments, only to read them, sigh, and close the tab without submitting it. I've written, or more accurately attempted to draft lots of skits and short stories, and now it occurs to me how many comics I've fully scripted, but never drawn.
If I keep this up, I'll go into full introspective whiney mode, so I'd better post this now.