March 7, 2001: Babysitting

The damn sun is up—I’m writing through shadows! It’s screwing with my brain. It’s like reverb but with handwriting. Every move made is copied within the shadow. It’s like I’m talking in a giant stadium and the words are shot back to me by use of echo. Then, I laugh inside—it’s nice to know the creative self is smiling. This is why I enjoy being the biggest fuck up on earth. The honor allows me to bend every rule written. Hell yes it pisses me off but get the fuck over it!