Already Bored

Eh. I’m remembering why I stopped doing this. It’s boring. And feels desperate. I mean, when I was broke, lonely, bored, and perpetually drunk, it made sense. I needed attention. Interaction. Something. Release valve #9 for the brain. But fuck. I’m happy as hell now. Who gives a shit about any of this? An hour of my day to entertain some cubicled mouthbreather for ten seconds? Temporary, transient, doomed. Like humanity.

Off to do some real writing…