Writing writing writing
In the mist of all this thinking and loss of sleep over this project I've started writing. God help us all, I'm terrible. Philly has been hit with one of the worst snow totals and horrible weather ever this winter. In the coming weeks I'll be going to Tampa, into some sunshine and out of the snow. I'll have a chance to write, work, and catch up with old friends, as well as get in shape for the summer ahead. Thanks again to everyone that still takes the time to look every once in a while! Here's a piece from what I've been scribbling down.
"Even after what little time I spent walking and pretending like I was about to conquer the world all I had in my head were romantic montages of me with a big fucking smile crossing the US. In reality, my whole life is one big romantic fucking montage never thinking clearly and having grandiose visions of my wildest dreams coming true. I pictured myself just like Frank Moody, a fictional sex driven drunk played by a real sex driven drunk whose only way out is to play a fictional sex driven drunk on cable. I see the start and finish of everything I want to accomplish and never see the middle, the actual journey. No one thought I would actually start this, let alone finish, not even me. I realistically envisioned me giving it the old college try, which meant me not reading, missing class, and having my college sweetheart bang everyone around me but me. Everything is for the best though, she was a terrible lay."
Thanks and take care!
Mike
