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14 January 2018 - 16:02

I'm supposed to be working on a word puzzle for work. Not quite feelin' it. Haven't updated this shit in forever, feels like. Don't it feel like? Forever, I mean. I haven't felt much like writing. Or drawing. Or anything, recently. My life's a mess.

Not that I'm bitching, mind you. My life's a mess because I've made it that way. Now I lie in it. All the time, every day, that's what I do. I lay in all my shit that is my life, too lazy to lift a finger and change the direction it's going in. Wallowing in my own filth. Sure, there are days I perk up a bit, give myself a good pep talk, put on my salsa/merengue playlist (mmm, sounds yummy, like a spicy mango tart) and get to tackling some part of my life that needs fixing. I'll focus on laundry or sweeping, or furtively wiping every visible non-porous surface with Clorox wet wipes, and that'll last about... I dunno, four to six hours? Then I flop back in exhaustion and go back to making jigsaw puzzles on my phone, listen to political comedy podcasts and scratch the lint out of my bellybutton. And so time passes.

I even stopped my Apocrypha project, which I had sworn to myself never to do. At first, I used the excuse of school. I had too much shit to do to keep up with a graphic novel. Then I graduated, and now I'm overworked, I claim. But the truth is, I'm just unsatisfied with everything, and I'm not excited about it like I used to be. Nothing excites me anymore. Maybe it's age. Maybe it's depression. Or maybe I'm just an aging, fat motherfucker who pretends to be jaded by life when in reality, I'm just lazy.

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