Today was one of those days, like the old days where you just can't seem to tackle the mountain of work in front of you and you spend a lot of time looking around at the grandeur of the space in which you are currently packing it's contents for transport to some different place that is probably more grand than the current occupancy in which you are spending precious moments that you will never get back no matter how hard you wish and no matter how hard you work because just looking around you know that these people made different life choices earlier on in their lives that resulted in a whole shit load of responsibility you never wanted and are thankful you don't have because really this is just one big carrot leading to nowhere special and besides, the only people that have this many art books are the people that can't make art for themselves... And this is what you talk about as you drive over the bridge, back to your tiny apartment where everything makes sense to you and you feel like you can actually
breathe.
Finally.
