OH MY FUCKING GOD

I was thinking about the grand scope of the universe and why it was the squirrels get the best stick in life, like an ACTUAL fucking stick, I mean, if it were an actual FUCKING STICK that’d be questionable, because then you’d see sweet old ladies screaming for their lives with bags of broken crackers, all the while a fuck ton of squirrels with oddly bloody twigs would be chasing her, and you KNOW shit’s about to go down when you see that kind of bullshit happen.

I once saw an octopus. No reason really, it was just there, and I was having the time of my life just looking at this fucking thing, and I was like, “Hey, octopus.” And the thing did say a word, because it has an ass mouth. That’s right, you heard, Octopi have ass mouths, they can be masters of talking shit, because of their ass mouths, and there’s nothing you or I can really do about it.

There’s such a thing as redundant torture, where you do something utterly inane to someone else over a large or short period of time, and they’ll finally be all, “Hey, what the fuck.” All calm like, but you know deep down they’re sad.
Or… something, I don’t fucking know.

Maybe we’re all just in a simulation and the robots are the real players here, because that’d be absolutely amazing, if ready player one wasn’t about the time space-continuum because a vacation inditing the mass roach riot of 20:14 military time, because I like fucking with people’s perception of things every now and then. It’s just a thing I do, you know how I know? Because you aren’t me, and even if you were, I’d still be the one writing this fucking thing, so you can’t stop me no matter who you are!
Yes, I ripped that from Ace venture, which is honestly my favorite movie of all time.

I don’t wonder why time traveling eggs don’t time travel, they’d be too chicken by the end of it. Ha.

Dumb jokes for smart people include:
1. My dating life.
My hair line.
The fact I more famous than a regular potato.
Every knows a regular potota. Or potato.
Fuck pototas. They’ve done nothing for humanity.

Those assholes.
This blog was brought to you by the overwhelming need to fuck around on the interenet and write some weird bullshit that’ll make you question if I’m high or not.
I am 6″5 or six foot five inches. Why does my jaw feel like a peice of toast ready to pop the fuck out of a toaster? Oh yeah, gravity. I keep forgetting that’s a thing.
Kinda like Brangolina. Or Bracheal.
Or Bennigan’s.

Oh to thine own soul, I doth speak to thee

I speak a summer’s breeze of creativity, heavy and rife with intellect and naive of the mind’s own maze of batshit craycray.

Preface:
Caffeine was involved.
Copious amounts of caffeine.
No fucks or apologies issued, you knew wtf was going to happen.

Let’s get something straight here, I fucking swear in my posts!
“BUT WHY!?”
And I say to you this, my child:
Because, the human language has over a trillion words in various dialects, each with their own unique needs and wants and kinks, and sometimes, the word ‘Is’ likes to do the butt stuff. Hard butt stuff with mimes dressed as T-rex’s, each armed with fifty dildos and a crosed of broken glass, which MUST BE INSTRUMENTALLY INSERTED INTO THEIR NIPPLES LIKE A CROSS DRESSING FUCK KING!
So, yeah, I swear.
Right now?
right now I’m about to lay some knowledge into your faces heads, and in your mind anus, some infojizz will bloom the might horny person into the wellspring net of yahaolmyspace.com!
So… if you were expecting an intelligent and thoughtful, proviking stance on why longboats needed to be shipped into the email addresses of local midget villages, than you’ve… made a wrong turn somewhere, because here? Here is the MOTHERFUCKING MINDCICLES! Where the contrast between intelligent and ALLMIGHTYWHATTHEFUCK happens just as quickly as a dick stabbing squirrel dressed as a honey bee setting fire to the orphanages of all of Christmas Day!
Plus, straight coffee fucks with my head in magical ways. And yes! Yes my friends, my followers, there will be days where madness spits in your face nipples and your eye feet will run, SCREAMING INTO THE MIDNIGHT FORESTS OF THE DEAD SOUL DEER, AND NOTHING SHALL RETURN!
Except, a higher knowing of what you just read might become the stuff of legend. I say unto thee, I speak for the worms and the wood, and the wood winds, and the woods that break wind, fart and from that fart, know that you shall launch the moon monday penis into the sky clouds and hamper the laundry of the infinite sadness!
Wait, the fuck?
I don’t care about making sense, I just need to write something, anything, something that makes me feel like you follow me so that at one point or another, this Bob ross of a painting of words will somehow inspire your to greater heights. Maybe, somehow, somewhere, the minds that crafted the intranet, the internet, may one day VENTURE TO THE OUTERNET! and holy fuck I’m looking up the OUTERNET as soon as IO finish writing this! Like, fuck me, that’s an awesome idea, the inter, the intra, the outer, the through, the around, and the undernet…. MY GOD, MOTHER OF FUCK LORD’S GOD, WHAT HAVE I INSPIRED!? Nothing? Everything? Possibly something that may make the thought raptor of Seclusiondick 5 turn vegan ONCE MORE AND SOLVE THE DINO-CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTHS!? Well, that’d be a fucking amazing mashup, wouldn’t it? I mean, to literally be there while a SUPERSTEGO shoots dick beams of ice and fury…. that…. truly would be a FROST JOB!
I’m not going to be serious in the post, I don’t wanna be, there’s no need to be serious in a blog post all the time! Sometimes, you just need to say fuck it with the sanity, and go with the mental flow! After all, if there isn’t a blog post out there that speaks to the psychological inner workings of the mind through abstract constructs, then you’re just wasting the time of both the reader and the writer, for every step we take is another that someone else may one day too take. Maybe you two end up in a foot race of thoughts and ideas, each step taken inspires you further along the road of life, and your souls become synched, tuned, like fine instruments to be played at such a level only those with the finest hearing can truly see where it leads!
And I KNOW for a fact that some people follow me because of the sometimes insane ramblings I post, and others for the intelligent aspect. Or maybe you read because I’m just an interesting guy, I’ll never know, really. I just want to entertain you, like the MIND SLUG SQUIRRELS OF SCOUT TROOP 555- Kidding. Just think of every non sequitur as an idea for a short story, something bottled up and shaken around for a little bit, and finally let loose. I’ve been wanting to get back into writing short stories for a while, get my thoughts out to the world, you know?

MY work schedule just kind of drains me of that, day by day, hour by hour, scan after scan. IT just seems like I’m losing a bit of who I am, and like my man Paul always tells me, “HEY! KNOCK THAT DEPRESSING SHIT OFF!” I just wanted to keep myself pumped, at the same time, I’m just a little bit freaked out by the progress in my life. For the first time in a while, a LONG while, I’m finally at a job where I’m just knocking shit out left and right, where I’m surrounded by thinkers, doers, gamers, and people with a shit ton of experience to draw from.

those who’ve followed my blog for a while, know that I’ve been around the net for a while, that my posts are unfocused, a kind of stream of consciousness kind of dealio, but it’s all good. It just takes a while for me to get to the meat of the issue, and if you’ve read this far, welcome to the format, a thick layer of insane ramblings, and underneath the prospect of learning something deeper about me. Maybe, just maybe, I shouldn’t build a squirrel launching catapult.
Maybe, I shouldn’t dress the quirrels up in little Evil Kneivel costumes.
Maybe, just maybe, I shouldn’t aim said catapult in the direction of metro PCS. but this world of ours is full of surprises! and no matter what, we can all agree, that Trump is a fucking moron who’s going to kick off world war 3 by tweet alone.
Because fuck him, that glow in the dark son of a bitch! That fuck nutted shit for brains, used cheeto bag fucking, mushroom dicked, tiny handed, treasonous fuck munch of a human being! That rejected Garbage Pale Kid, that shit for brains ass face, that fucking moron, that diaper fucking ass for face! And yeah, I’m kind going all in, because like I said in the beginning of htis fucking thing, I swear in my blogs, and there are MANY MANY MANY layers to this thing, and sometimes, just sometimes, you don’t need to make sense, or focus on ap articular thing, or just fucking fuck shit up on a literary sense.
Sometimes, you just need to go all in, and as long as the thoughts are pretty much fucking unorganized little traumatized SPIDERS FROM A DEAD CLOWNS BROOM CLOSET, THE WORLD WILL SEEK THE UNDERKING OF THE NONTERNET, SLOOPY MCFARTNUTSACK! The stretchiest of Fartsacks the world has never cared to here.
Fart Sacks. The nuts of the human ass. The biological equiviliant of bending space and time so that the WORLD CAN’T UNDERSTAND THE EMOTIONAL SCREECH CRIES OF THE TERABYTE BASED FLOCKAWAVES! They shall know only SORROW! Like the creeping insect voids of Therserererer Five nine eight! Wellp, whatever sanity this particular post had, has left the building, I mean, it WAS there for a while, and then shit just went left field, right field, pitchers mound, and ran the fucking bases.
Home fucking run.
Wait, I wonder if its possible to fuck and run and the same time?
I mean, seriously, the act is possible, on some level, by the sprints of each act will REQUIRE THE BEES OF A THOUSAND HIVES AND SEVERAL JARS OF JEFF PEANUT BUTTER!
Jeff, because while Mothers like jiff, Jeff has a bitching sports car, also the latest AC/DC Compact disk. Jeff Peanut butter, tastes like blood, motor oil, and getting chicks man!
God damn it Jeff.
Um, what was I going on about? The bee population is shrinking and no one really understands why, maybe Antisex groups are mkaing tiny bee condoms? Like, how does that shit even work? OH MY GOD I’M GOING TO SEARCH UP BEE DICKS. Also, fun fact, the size of Narwhal Penis is determined by the size of their Horn. Ladies, lmao. So the larger the horn, the bigger of the balls, and thaaaaat’s…. fucking disturbing the shit out of me. Not for the normal reasons, but because now?
Now I’m imagining regular bees, with regular narwhal hors, and giant ass testicles. So, there’s a bit of Nightmare fuel. How do Narwhals jack off? By slamming their horns into rocks or something? I mean, that make sense if you think about it… And you’re thinking about it.

Intelligent Title for a dumb fucking post.

Now that we’ve cleared up the intent of this thing, let’s make one thing perfectly clear, I’m a dumbass, and you’re a dumbass. By which I mean, there are things about which we know plenty, things in which we know not so much, and things in which we know absolutely nothing at all.
It’s all right, there’s nothing wrong with that, especially since 95% of our knowledge base comes from shouty, day glow traffic cones pretending to be something they aren’t. Fuck you donald Trump.
That being said, it’s been a minute, I’ve not found any time to make a quick post, or put some serious thought into what I’d like to talk about. And drunk blogging is out of the question as well, since no matter what, the quality of my works is just going to be crap when drunk blogging. There’s literally nothing of quality in those things. And I think I ACTUALLY included them in the book I … Don’t think I published. there was a shit ton of work put into the book, and for some fucking reason, it just up and vanished on me. Along with several hundred other little projects i had going on at one point or another.
I dunno, sometimes I think having a job is the greatest thing in the world, because money, and being able to afford things, and other times, I’m like, great, this shit again. because as hard as I work? I can never seem to get ahead, like, it’s the strangest thing in the world. Last week I was at a 104% rate, which was great, but my dailys are sucking ass, 95,81, 84, nothing above a hundred unless I’m caffeinated out of my fucking gourd and just completely in my Zen state of being… kind of frustrating. But it ALWAYS comes down to numbers, not the struggles, not the advancements, not anything.
“If you don’t make those numbers, just going to be one of those days!”
The bottom line is always more important than the needs of the individual, which is kind of sad when you get down to it, but at the same time, one of the tips that I learned from a PA, was to not let this job define who you are.
But it’s kind of hard to do when you don’t know who you were to begin with. Or maybe it’s just the motion of it all, the way things could and often do change at any point in time, and you just have to go with the flow, which is a mentality that I’ve adopted many times over the course of my life!
I got distracted and forgot what the fuck I was writing about, I know that to you, it’s just a millisecond between paragraphs, but I’ve spent the better part of ten minutes trying to dry my hands and figure out why my hands still kind of felt like crap. I don’t know why, maybe it’s just a thing of mine, but I fucking hate distractions, they’re… just so unneeded, just stay focused on the goal, and work towards that end… i’m sure whatever it was I was going on about had some importance to it… Maybe, it’s hard to tell anymore.

Well, let’s do this!

I’ve been through a thing or two, because I’ve seen a thing or two, and I’m not sure at what point those things or two can get fucking bored of this joke, also it takes me five or so minutes to get settled in when I’m getting ready to write a post, so I’m thinking, GREAT… another word I’ve misspelled. I always have trouble with spelling certain words correctly, it’s craaaazy.

Want to know what else is crazy? The fact that I’ve not written in this thing for so long. I’ve got some hard truth’s to nub out, but I’m not going to focus on them, because I’ve only 4.5 hours of sleep, and people keep slamming into my room to try and distract me from what I’m doing, which is now a thing I have to deal with.

I’ve been busy with writing, with game making, with a bunch of crap that I’m easily distracted by or I just feel like I needed to switch gears on. Oh, right, about 5 weeks ago I tried to hang myself in the garage, and now my folks are trying to crush the story so that way people don’t get freaked out by that fact.

Anyways, floating around is tweet thread about the whole thing, so if I remember about it, I’ll link it at the bottom of this post. Writing… Well, let’s get to that thing very quickly, lately, I’ve been using a writing engine called twinery 2, a kind of branching writing program that’s fucking simple to use, and you don’t need any prior experience to use it.

I’m using it because I love writing books and I love writing expansive stories that are amazing.

What I don’t love are people trying to tell me how to use the program, because that’s when I try to cram as much stuff in it, they either lose interest in what I do, or I just lose interest in that particular thing for a time. But that’s neither here nor there, again, I’ll put a link in the description below.

Those who’ve been following my blog for years, know that I have a passion for creating things, and my latest endeavor in RPG Maker MV, is a triumph in it’s own right. I LOVE making things, it’s what I’m good at, even if the results are a bit shoddy, I know this because I always put 9,000,000% into whatever I’m working on at the moment, and always try to make it the best thing I can.

This current project I’m working on, “Project 1” is the working title, is no different. It still has the same basic premise as my other works, with Darkness and Light being a married couple who need to be extra fucking kinky in bed. So their idea of foreplay is to send newly created souls on adventures and live vicariously through them, because they aren’t so much as people as they are the physical manifestations of the very concepts of Light and Darkness, and who the fuck are we to think they have genitals. Who knows? Maybe their idea of shitting and pissing is summoning the Old Eldritch gods to consume and kill virgins in the upper northern tip of West Virginia, we’ll never know, because that’s just way too meta-physical, and we’ll never know the truth of WHY THEY CHOOSE TO CARRY PIZZA ON THE SIDE INSTEAD OF FLAT WAYS LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE, YOU LOUSY SHITS!

Anyways, I…  I think I channeled my inner John Oliver there, weird. So, this time around, instead of smacking together four random characters and flinging them to the wilds, you’re instead playing as a ghost who takes over the bodies of six characters, in one case, you’ll be switching between creepy twins, no reason, just a gameplay mechanic, and seeing the world through their eyes. The interesting part about this, is you’re told right off the bat “that you’re nothing more than a sex toy to the couple, now go out there and start adventuring you freshly baked fuckboi!” In essence, dear god folks, I put a bit more work into it than that, lol.

So, because I’m so interested in branching paths and separate but connected storytelling, there are three paths to take, Light, Neutral, Darkness, and each has five to six paths, making it 15 to 18 possible adventures, including one where you just wander around a library, and due to some interesting flaws in the editor and my own laziness to go any deeper than I have to, get repeatedly yelled at for climbing on the bookshelf in increasingly more hilarious ways.

Not to mention I might make a fourth path with an actual story behind it,  well, the whole thing will have an overarching story behind it, I just don’t like to pigeonhole myself into specifics or else I’ll just end up getting bored with it trying to find tune the shit out of everything OVER AND OVER AND OVER again,

On top of that, I’ve got two different Discord servers I’m running, which I need to transfer ownership over to myself, so that way I can really get things kicked off. A fresh start so to speak, though I really do have having to delete anything, though I’ve already have a few other things on my plate already.

Hrm… what else? Not much… Anyways, have a good one!

Link to the tweet thread about my suicide attempt:

Link to my Philome.la page:
http://www.philome.la/MorganGavin

Coffee Thoughts in the morning!

God I fucking love coffee!

Seriously, nothing more satisfying in the mornings then hcocking down some random shit I no longer care about writing.

Well, not that topic anymore, I don’t write these morning blogs just to be all philosophical and shit, I write them to just fucking say what’s on my mind, and there’s not really much on my mind, no, really!

I used to try and make sense of the world, try to unlock it’s various dick shaped puzzles, and try to be something more than my mind actually was:

Infinite confuckled about everything stupid and trying to be more intelligent than a methed out gerbil being stupid funny on a facebook live of a Captain Hook porn parody where no one’s having fun, and everything just seems fucked.

More or less, I’m sure the clown in the corner, sadly jacking it to a rendition of “hurt me more” by the Sugarpops and Daddy6969 is truly just wonderful.

Outside of that, I drink coffee and slap my face against the keyboard because i need to more freeform with my thoughts, try not to bog em down with the heavier shit, because that’s what the fuck I was doing for a long fucking time, you know?

Understand the mysteries of the universe, logic it all out.

There’s nothing to logic out, it’s all impulse!All fuck this, blow up that, make fun of this person, why?

What’s the point?

Aren’t we fucked enough already without that added pressure of the constant shit talking?

Maybe we just need to shut our minds down for a bit and relax, not worry about what the others are doing as Jack and beanstalk simply refers to the act of getting a blowjob from a snaggle toothed, broken jawed hooker during an earthquake on a rickety roller coaster.

Or maybe it’s something more which I don’t have the mental patience to deal with?

I dunno…

I just do not know.

I’ve spent so much of my life looking at a keyboard that it’s really the one constant thing, more constant than staring at a screen for one reason or another.

Although it does seem a bit more fun than backwards fisting a zombie in the ass.

Maybe?

Yeah definitely don’t want to think about reverse fisting anything that’s decomposing.

Ha… You’re thinking of it aren’t you?

LMAO!

that’s the thing I love about coffee thoughts, you can just say whatever’s on yer mind and not really have to worry about a fucking thing!

It’s a freeing feeling, something I’ve continually missed as i’ve plugged away at this project or that project, wondering when and if I’d get back to the one thing that really matters, randomly blogging about nothing at all, or making some sort of sense to the five people that actually read this thing, all over the world…

Did you know I used to be read all over the world?

Seriously, that shit was insane, yeah, I used to talk mad shit about people over at VVC back when there was shit talking to be done, but I was fucked read all over the place.

Sometimes for good reasons, other times for bad, sometimes for reasons that  seemed a bit obtuse, no, no intelligent words.

BAD BRAIN, BAD FUCKING BRAIN!

Point being, I guess no matter what I do, I’m going to have some kind of draw, some kind of gravitational pull, even if I don’t think I have one. After all, hits are hits, regardless of how many times or how many minutes people read or watch. not that i’m complaining, it’s just a natural fact of life that now a days, if you’re aren’t shit talking someone, you’re not a part of the cool crowd, though to be fair, I don’t think I’ve ever been a part of the cool crowd?

Maybe?

I’m not really sure anymore, everything’s a bit fuzzy in the memory, sometimes I get flashes of the person I used to be in my twenties, and I look back at the things I wanted to accomplish, and look upon my many failings, and see that there is a veritable graveyard of them. But I can’t give up!

Not giving up!

Ever since I tried to hang myself, I’ve come to the realization that my life, my efforts, my everything really, is more important than just some one off project that for one reason or another needs to be slapped together in the form of a blog or something to make others happy.

It’s a way of keeping myself motivated for the future, to punch that sun right in the fucking dick!

To proclaim to the world that all should HAIL BILL FUCKING WATSON!

To make the most badass shoutout videos in the world and keep people smiling.

I lost the goal of that in the course of chasing high hit counts and wanting people to subscribe to me.

I lost that point, maybe that’s why my follower count hasn’t risen or fallen? Maybe that’s why I’m struggling to get anymore traction?

Or ,maybe I just secretly gave up the rat race once I figured out the truth of the matter, that no matter what I try, there’s always going to be someone to shit on my parade.

So I need to shit on theirs first, because of course that’s going to be a thing, right?

I create because it’s what I’m excellent at, I’m godlike when it comes to creating things.

the question is, how do I turn that creation into profit, more importantly, how did I go from using all of my finger to only using five? that shit confused the hell out of me.

Is it to match my internal voice when it comes to… thinking?

I dunno, don’t care, batshit crazy thought time:

So a penguin with a machete and a tiny top hat went on a tiny adorable rampage at a library and that shit went sideways with the chihuahua FBI showed up and was all “BARK BARK MOTHERFUCKER!”

I KEEP FORGETTING THE PURPOSE OF THIS BLOG, TO NOT MAKE SENSE, TO HAVE FREE FLOWING THOUGHT IN A WAY THAT’S NEITHER CONSTRICTING NOR CAUSES ME TO PAUSE, LIKE AN ECLECTIC COLLECTOR OF LECTURES. HA! I DID A THING THAT MADE ME SMILE ON THE INSIDE.

PEOPLE SAY I NEED TO SMILE MORE, WHY? WHAT’S THE POINT? WHAT AM I SMILING AT?

THE SUN?

THAT SHIT’S BEEN THERE FOR TRILLIONS OF YEARS, AND NO AMOUNT OF SMILING IS GOING TO CHANGE THAT.

OH, SHIT, I’VE HAD CAPS LOCK ON THIS ENTIRE TIME.

There we go, that’s going to read very weird, people are going to be like “Why is he yelling about smiling at the sun?”

Puppies, I don’t know, that’s just the word I was focused on when my fingers hit the keyboard, and now this blog is getting more metaphysical than I’d actually like. I need to practice using more than just two fingers- SHUT THE METAMINDFUCKING PHYSICAL BULLSHIT DOWN!

There we go, hate it when that happens, because than I’m just focused on the random bullshit that’s going on, and you see what’s ACTUALLY going on instead of enjoying a nice nonsensical blog about shit that no longer matters ten minutes down the road as you focus on which Forte Nite skin to use to do the same thing over and over and over and over again. Because really, that’s all gaming really is, and maybe I’m over extending my reach as John Wick 3 is just about John Wick going on a murder rampage because someone took his plate of nachos at golden Corral, and john’s had enough of that shit.

The movie will be a veritable and verifiable week long in running time. And it will be just millions of senior citizens rushing John in an attempt to fuck with death itself.

Wow, that’s on my mind heavily, maybe it’s something more, or something less.? I need to go to the mental gym more often and work on the mental gymnastics required to keep this train of thought going?

Maybe I do, and maybe I don’t give a fuck anymore about trying to make sense, nope, old topic, moving forward, moving on!

I like writing songs, it’s a pretty fun experience, to hear the flow of the music as you slap a ham sandwich against the way and make fart noises and than you think, well this isn’t making music, just making a mess.

Just some random brain shit… Maybe.

Okay, it’s been a while since I’ve actually talked about what’s going on in my life on this thing. Why did I stop? Because my mother, god bless her soul, is somewhat particular over what I talk about, like she’s afraid someone’s going up and break the house because of one blog post. Seriously, it’s somehow that bad… Which is somewhat hilarious.

But, here I am. Instead of in the Navy, which is where I should’ve been, had I not caught Pneumonia and fallen behind in training… And getting Separated, let’s not forget that whole shlameagle. Yeah, I get moved from one stress filled spirit dish to another, make a bunch of friends, and look at that! I’m off topic again! But, I dunno, we’ll be moving in a few months, so that means I’ve gotta find a job, because when they leave, I stay… Or something like that. OR I might still be renting when they leave… Which is always a thing.

Which could be cool, but I try not to focus anymore on the “What if this actually happened!?” And I had the place to myself? I dunno what I’d do to be honest… Make more videos? Actually be able to enjoy myself for more than two days at a time? I dunno… don’t get me wrong, home life is… interesting when I’m not getting reamed for one thing or another,at the same time though, it’s more that I don’t have any motivation to do anything else besides what I’ve been doing.

Yeah, I’ve worked 9 to 5s before, and while the pay is well worth the frustration I sometimes felt while working there, I dunno… it’s just not me. But, that time is nigh approaching for when it has to be me! Or something like that… But I figure it like this, the more projects I get done and published, the happier I’ll be, the more confident I’ll be, and the bigger fish I’ll move up to.

It always comes up to that doesn’t it? The great cycle of things. You start it up, it goes well, you get lazy, you forget about a few things, and boom,  you’re back at square one, just a little bit wiser with what you want to get for. Mind you, it’s not a bad way to kick things off, there are worse ways to go about the cycle of things, but for the most part, it just, is what it is.

I’ve had more theories about the way my life’s been headed than I can count. And sometimes the more introspective stuff is just a bit on the nose. For instance, I often think about what my life would’ve been like had my parents stayed married for the entirety of my life up to this point. Would i still be in the same situation? Would I have had the same friends? The same relationships? what about career choice? you never really know about the different aspects and the divisions your personal timeline could take unless you REALLY take a good hard long look at it. And that’s pretty much what I’ve been doing a lot lately.

Right now, as it stands, I’m more dedicated, career wise, to the idea of being an Author, and stapled to the struggles that come along with it. I know that because I fucked around a lot, because I never really took my schooling seriously, focused more on the social aspect of things that my life, in reality, is going to be a bit more harsher than I originally thought it was going to turn out.

Let’s see, the pro’s? The Pros of my life, as it is right now at the time of writing this post are: I’ve got a wonderful girlfriend, both my biological and step parents are alive, I’ve got brothers and sisters, I’ve got a ton of friends, loving parents and extended family, plenty of pets, horses and chickens, and I was, for whatever period of time, in the military.

Not bad, not bad at all Morgy boy! So, now, we do the shitty side of things… The Cons.

The cons are as follows: I live at home, my bio parents divorced when I was young, one of my step parents went insane (The one I rarely see.), I haven’t seen my brothers or sisters in years, my mom can be a bit over the top and flip on a dime about any number of things. Yes, I’ve got a ton of friends, but if I’m not posting something relevant to their interests, I’m kind of dust. My IRL friends I sometimes don’t talk to for weeks at a time. And I was separated for catching a super flue and falling behind in training.

There are no downsides to my girlfriend, I love her to pieces!

Anyways, I’m running out of writing steam here… And I’ve lost track of whatever the fuck I was talking about… I might have ADHD or ADD… who knows.

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