Upd4t3s? L0L Wu7?

So here I am again, typing away while waiting for a class to go by. I'm only really writing this because I feel terrible about a test I royally botched and the fact that my next class I am supposed to turn in a paper that I'm not even half-way done on. So here I am waiting for my fate to eat me up like so many moray eels in the reef of life.

As far as the story goes, I've been working on writing the script for it as well as studying various things to give me an edge in drawing. Hopefully soon I'll be able to procure some .5 mechanical pencils for light sketching, some .9's for filling in big spaces and some .7 blues for initial stuff as well as a light source I can place under my drawing so I can ink them... and some decent pens for said inking. Lot's of work, but somehow, I'm kinda looking forward to it. This summer is going to be nothing but working at whatever restaurant or burger joint will hire me and drawing. I suppose that at some point I'll need to sleep, but I may not have time for that.

I feel over whelmed as usual whenever I start planning large things, and without a doubt, there's going to be lots of things that get in the way of my initial plan, but that's okay, because I'm at least good enough at life to roll with the punches.

Speaking of the future, I wanted to share my dream with those who read this (Susan and maybe Aunt Julie if she still checks this place for kicks and giggles). I imagine myself in 10 years being that guy you see at cheap coffee shops who chats with people while sucking on a cigarette and tapping away on a laptop, countless sketches and such littering the area, obscuring the stains on the table. Thicker goatee and mustache, longer hair, maybe a little less color in it, but eyes as green, blue, gray as ever, and just a mischievous as when I was 17. As you pass by the table, you might think, "That guy looks like an eccentric nut job who barely scrapes by in life... But I'll be darned if he doesn't look like he's enjoying himself at least." And hopefully you'll be right. I don't want to be rich, or famous necessarily. I want enough to get by, enough to live and continue doing what I really enjoy, putting ink and lead to paper.

Same Kangol slouch cap pushing my bangs over my eyes, of course. Can't ever forget the slouch cap.

Thanks to those who follow this barely updated, rather uninteresting blog. I find writing to be a great catharsis and knowing that at least one other person out there might read it and think something about it is nice.

The Kid.