Holy Snickerdoodles-in-a-pie-pie-pan!

Life is strange. One second I’m scrubbing the toilet (like a good husband should), and the explanation presents itself.

I was just telling my wife earlier today how it seems like my mind has slowed down as of late. Not in an old-man sort of way, but like that of an addict “sleeping it off”. I just wasn’t sure what “it” was.

For the first time in life, everything isn’t a convoluted mess. Technology is beginning to make sense rather than frightening me to the core with fears of mistakes. Words and ideas are deepening with no fears of deadlines; not even to myself.

I think it’s finally beginning to make sense; filling the potholes of the pre-established crossroads before me.

My goal as an author subliminally became the desire to create for enough sales to remain in the cool kids club.

My goals as an artist are to come up with cool stuff that makes me happy, attracting the happiness of others, and solidifying my legacy as someone who may or may not contribute to the greater good of the galaxy.

I think this is what happens when your body knows you’re about to die but they’re saving it for a surprise party in the brain’s near future.

Well, poop.

Not Whale poop. That’s sick. Google it.

Preach truths, toke jokes, and shoplift Amazon.

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