the passion of the myself

i've always felt constipated when i write. not constipated in the literal i-can't-force-my-shit-out kind of way, constipated in the way i want to get something on paper (or blog) and never really getting that satisfying feeling that i did something right. i never did, not even when i used to write everyday for school and/or on to this brain-jizz receptacle. i don't know, now that i'm using the word "constipated" as my thematic metaphor for this entry, i'm beginning to remember sean connery using it in finding forrester in some sort of context relative to what i'm trying to say right now. fuck, that movie wasn't so great, but it was interesting to me at the time because i was taken with the whole writing thing. now, i bet if i saw it again it would be something to laugh at, seeing as how it's as formulaic and predictable as any mentor-student (or player) movie like remember the titans or coach carter. although, the thing i like about those movies is that they star black people, which is good in my mind for whatever unspeakable reason.

reparations!

so all in all, i just wasted 5 minutes writing about not being able to shit through my pen and a not-so shitty movie i saw four/five years ago and barely remember. and i insulted some colored-folk on the way. you know what's a good movie? naruto... well, it's not really a movie, it's a television show, but they do have movie spin-offs, which aren't as good as the main series... whatever, fuck it. i did finally see super size me a couple days ago, which has turned me off fast food for now...

did i mention it's finals week (at least it is for me... 2 saturday finals... yeesh.)