blanket like an envelope, send me away

i just perused banksy's website for about an hour, instead of doing any of the several things i 'should' do.

i need to go to the museum/library more. i prefer the museum. the library always overwhelms me, despite having the library guide tell us how to navigate it freshman year. plus, the few times i went to the library have been when i was on frantic research quests for writing classes. i wish that the hunt for new material (art, music, books) excited me... usually i just stumble upon it or someone tells me. i have been trying to do stuff that involves richness of mind rather than richness of pocket. it's a tough swing.

anyone wanna go to the museum with me?

it is sometimes difficult to know whether one is just in a funk, or needs help. i have been struggling a lot lately.. i sleep too much, i'm not keeping house at all, i feel anxious all the time, i'm missing my appointments... it's just a phase, right? i wish that i had a roommate, i think that would help. i feel like i'm in a hammock that is hanging too low, and i can't get enough energy to propel myself out. the only thing that worries me is that this has been going on since last year...

i wish my coworker would quit. how dare she ask a favor of me? stop smacking your gum in my ear, and say thank you for once in your self-righteous, mistakenly entitled life and maybe, MAYBE, we won't all hate you. move back to virginia beach where you belong.

peace, love, harmony and beauty. no judgment here.

trying to be content, here and now. i can't shake the feeling of dissatisfaction, but maybe that is good for an artist? i don't like using that label for myself, but designer seems too impersonal. desirtist? artigner?

i want to make the world fall asleep and hop naked along the river rocks on a hot day. i want to be seven and have my stuffed animals talk to me. narrow pleasures are what i seek.

and boobies. oh wait...