I should probably try writing essays or fiction about something more than my own pathetic self-indulgent issues and heartbreak. You know, like, something with—I don’t know—a thesis. I’m totally failing at this new blog direction thing in which I said I’d go.
Though, I guess when you think about it all writing (and art, generally, probably) is just a synthesis of the composer’s own self-indulgent, pathetic thoughts and feelings. I’m just much worse at hiding that kind of thing behind an artistic veil that actually is of some interest to anyone but me.
I’ll work on it. Just remember that if you are in fact reading this that you are under no obligation to do so and I certainly wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. And here I go again.
One On Top Of The Other
I should probably try writing essays or fiction about something more than my own pathetic self-indulgent issues and heartbreak. You know, like, something with—I don’t know—a thesis. I’m totally failing at this new blog direction thing in which I said I’d go.
Though, I guess when you think about it all writing (and art, generally, probably) is just a synthesis of the composer’s own self-indulgent, pathetic thoughts and feelings. I’m just much worse at hiding that kind of thing behind an artistic veil that actually is of some interest to anyone but me.
I’ll work on it. Just remember that if you are in fact reading this that you are under no obligation to do so and I certainly wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t. And here I go again.