Please God, give me a cause to fight for. Something to rally around. A goal. Something with enough immediate reward spaced throughout the process of attaining it to keep me going for it. Please God let me kick ass and shut. my critics. up.
Poetry reading happens on July 5 and I still have jack. At least I'm not alone. Apparently some of my blogger friends are just as blocked as me. Apologies. I'm rushing a painting. I'm rushing two. Upon my return to Quezon City, I will be greeted by needy friends; a bank account running on empty; a design job I will not be paid well for; the long and useless wait for art students, who have things better to do than learn crap that they can always pay some geek--like me-- to do.
You must not whine. You are above this. Life is hard. Suffering is the first noble truth. You knew this when you first noticed the divide between your rich and poor gradeschool classmates. Do the work, Dex-boy. Find the need; meet it. That's all that matters.