Reading back through....I whine a lot. It's like middle school diary all over again. I need to cut this shit out and write about better things and keep the whine for the pen and paper.

Disdain for standing still

Follow the basics and call it a career. Your words are winding their way around my canal, resonating in the bones, shooting bullets into my brain and left me for dead. Am I here for the right reasons? Where do my passions lie? "See you in seven years" I don't have seven years to spend wondering if this is the life I want to live. It's intimidating. It's hard. It's the hardest thing I have ever done. I feel like I have spent my life waiting for a something or a someone. I want the steps I take to feel like moving forward. I can draw a line. I can tattoo a line. I can't work past that. I can't seem to grab hold of a next level. I can't decide if I even want to.
You keep asking.... I keep not knowing. If I explode standing still it's because the rock and a hard place squeezed me like a zit on the talented back of Portland tattooing... and rightfully so.