Greetings From Camp Clever -
Whether or not you hold court or teach clown college, you are convinced your path is the correct one. Wherever you go, your advice is priceless and your actions are tenable. Every relationship has it's share of the truth and the divine right to change metaphors mid publication.
The choice of no choice, of aimless drift and lazy self destruction is obviously the worst sin of all. We are only defined by our jobs if we enjoy them.
And this is what I have. The sand of time lost stuck in socks and unworn shoes. While the wake for the past is ever ongoing, the present unfolds with much aplomb as we compare anecdotes and shots both cheap and plentiful. Nobody ever put a gun loaded with adjectives to their temple much as nobody ever overdoses on self righteousness. It's the good advice you just can't take, and not because irony is the currency of the underpaid and overly entitled. The biological imperative implores as not to raise children who aren't ours and not to accept advice that we haven't expelled spent from our rich interesting lives. The trash piles and the proof sinks.
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