hello world. it was a sunny day today, but i spent most of the time indoors, watching movies and finally finishing the last pages of east of eden. i tell you, steinbeck is, like, the only author of "literary classic" fiction that i can stomach right now. i haven't read a vonnegut in a good long while while now, maybe two years, but maybe that's a good thing. hopefully i'll get to read some more this summer. i'm the type of person who needs to read, but doesn't do it so often because of distractions like the internet. maybe i'll stop using the internet and learn to cook or kickbox, or polish my dirty, dirty rhymes, knumsayin!?

i, like, totally need to get over myself. like, totally, like, whatever. i tend to find myself criticizing everything and everyone, less because of egotism than narrow-minded self-assurance. i need to stop reading GQ magazine and staring at myself half-naked in the mirror and stop caring about all the corny, flaky, stupid shit that comes out of peoples' mouths all of the time. i'm a critical, hypocritical, superficial, self-conscious, world-weary idiot who has delusions of fame and suffers from the same neuroses-causing chemical imbalances of the brain as an artist, except i have no artform to work within besides the medium of my mind, soul, and body. maybe that's why always feel so out of place with myself, or maybe, i just need to calm down,

but then again,

i need to wake the fuck up! i am on the very cusps of life, not meaning that i'm suicidal, but that i'm standing on the beginnings of something, loitering at the crossroads, and i'm absolutely excited about it! and scared of it! and it's all coming down on me, perhaps in a good way - but i don't know it yet. it's kind of like how i picture myself to either be a millionaire or a heroin addict by our 10-year high school reunion - i really don't know what's going to happen to me!

and that's life!

and no one cares about any of this shit, but this is my art, or at least, the beginnings of it. like harvey pekar in american splendor, the mundane happenings of my life are bits of social commentary, entertainment, and interest for those who are amazed yet scoff at such trivialities. it keeps me sane to think that i'm extraordinary, even though i want to be accepted by all of you normals!

yes!

i AM a conceited fuck! i say it all the time! but i am! and i won't say i don't give a damn, because i do! i want you to know! i want to you to feel contrary, opposed to whatever it is that i am. but then i want you to love me. i want all of you to love me, even all of you bland, tactless drones of clay men! if you are to be pre-programmed ghosts to serve me with experience, do it well, you angels of minimum-wage-social-change.

there i go again, my so-called "arrogance" manifested into misconcieved solipsism. i am so immature! perdoneme.

that's the thing about having a girlfriend, you (you = i) always wonder how close she is to uncovering the secret that you're a worthless, stupid, self-absorbed, circular thinking cretan, unworthy of her attention, let alone anything more.

but i'm solid! i really am! there's this heart-shaped spot on my brother's laptop where the paint on the mouse-clicker has worn off.

a heart! neat!

i have a prerogative to act gay.

p.s. i know, i know, like always i loaded this post with a whole lot of self-deprecation, but don't worry, i know in all reality i'm a great, loving, caring guy! i mean, for god's sake, i am the fucking shit, man, THE FUCKING SHIT!

bye.