i had an idea in my head of how this would went to shit.


here we are in 99 degree weather trying to accomplish something, and of course someone has to shit all over it. not to be all melodramatic but the broken glass on your window seat is reminding me of my dreams right now. well, i guess we’re going home. but not before we stop at applebee’s for a few drinks. yes, applebee’s. my level of brokeness only responds to drink specials.


did you see his email? he won’t do it.

did you see her email? she can’t do it.

he never showed up.

she never showed up.


*adds justin bieber and jaden smith's banger ‘never say never’ to playlist*

*acknowledges corniness*                                                                                           

*sets playlist to private*


nobody said just how hard this was gonna be.

damn it. her hair is fucked up in the picture and i haven’t gotten to the part in my late-night photoshop [training sessions] where I learn how to edit in hair. solution: cover it with another picture and act like it’s graphic design. boom.

these web developers really want me to hunt them down wherever the fuck in the world they are and cuss them the fuck out. my verbal barrages are much more effective in person. how did a deadline of one month turn into a whole year??!?! i blame myself. but mostly i blame my finances because i sure as hell can’t afford to hire someone new.

i asked him for a proper itemized budget so he decided to withdraw from the shoot.

i asked him for a proper contract that includes a list of all fees so he hit me with the “this process is usually less time-consuming” and ended the agreement.

                                                                                                                                     so apparently i look like a boo-boo the fool to you. okay got it.


that support is there and she pulls it together for you by herself because she knows you’re busy cleaning up the spaghetti that the alzheimer’s had your mom thinking was water for the plants.


precompiled code versus compiled code. and here i am the simpleton that thought code was just code.


pretty much fucking with my sanity at this point.


the little project that couldn’t.


i really wish people would stop asking what i do. mind your business. i do shit.



everything has been easy. seamless. we expect that if we do one thing, we can predict the next thing. and when that prediction doesn’t manifest, that’s when things get hard, interesting. we don’t know how to act. because there’s no blueprint. we live in cause and effect. but now we work in a cause that yields little to no effect. but the little to no effects, day after day, month after month, have become and will become the total effect that it was always meant to be. it just needed time to grow, develop, and evolve. we don’t give things enough of a chance to do that. because we’re too busy falling apart at the seams, which we don’t even notice because again, seamless.


in the moment, i hated it. but i found out that i needed it, and i wouldn’t be shit without it.

am i immune to its force? no. but i move better in spite of it.



days of pure sunshine got me feeling particularly sprightly then gusts of winds threaten to rip this shit from my hands. a reversal of everything I’ve worked for--a giant waste. you know it’s real when it’s not so much that you don’t want to give up, though that deserves its own praise, but that you can’t. there’s too much at stake not to hold on for dear life. you’ve put so much into it...almost too much at this point. but motivation is starting to prove itself to be a tricky bastard to pin down.

but is there a question of if and when to let go?

*adds t.i.’s ‘motivation’ to playlist* two words: corn. ball.



to quote the SLICKest of WOODS because she’s the realest and we’re waiting for any philosopher to say it better, “Follow your dreams until it fucking kills you because the pain of regret is incomparable. My dreams broke me down, built me up, moved me to the other side of the country with not a cent to my name or a friend in my phone book. My dreams gave me crippling anxiety and depression. My dreams broke my skin out from stress and worry but you know what else my dreams did? They gave me the motivation and the passion to overcome the bad that made it not only hard to enjoy, but also aided the block I had on the blessings God was sending. Moral of the story: BLEED FOR YOUR FUCKING BELIEFS and TRUST AND LOVE YOURSELF UNCONDITIONALLY AND UNFUCKINGAPOLOGETICALLY. You attracts EVERYTHING around you.”


i had an idea in my head of how this would went to shit.


until it didn’t.