September 2011
School.
I like how school has eaten up the majority of my time, making me either tired or stressed about to-be-done assignments. I wish I could just draw decently or finish writing something.
This sucks.
But the worst part?
I still have nine more months of this.
Oh god.
I like how I wanted this to be my art dump, but now it acts as a random blog.
Mentally over-analyzing everything my characters say.
Like a boss.
10-year-old girls crying because they broke up with their boyfriends. When I was 10 I cried when I missed the morning cartoons.
When I was ten, I cried when I ran out of Pokeballs while trying to catch a desired Pokemon.
SOMETHING IS NOT RIGHT WHAT IS GOING ON HERE.
"You are not: The car you drive. The latest trend. A sexual object. Your diet plan. Your profile picture."
—American Trash, Innerpartysystem
