When I read Over-Rated, I can't help but wonder if there's someone out there, silently reading my 'blog and finding themselves strangely moved. Why are the words of strangers more powerful than the words of friends? In people we don't know, ambiguity and incompleteness of thought is beautiful, but the same traits in those we love just... pisses us off.
I've been at work for almost two hours, and I think I'm going to leave soon, because I'm hungry. It's amazing how unproductive I can get away with being. I don't do nearly enough to justify them paying me, even though they only pay me minimum wage. Seriously, I spend 40% of my time working, and 60% browsing, reading, writing, and zoning out. The little voice in my head just kinda shakes its head and says, "You suck." I'm not sure how a disembodied voice can shake its head, but this one does. And with a look, it says, "I am so disappointed in you." I think it wants me to feel guilty... well, it won't work! Damn the man! Save the empire!
I don't feel I need to explain my art to you, Warren.
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