Radishes. Colossus.

This is interesting. Very, very interesting.
BUT STUPID!

I really want to be able to make time to practice drawing faces and the
human form. Most of the time the faces I draw end up looking like they're
underwater in a Portishead video. Some turn out believable, but most are
asphyxiated by my pencil.

I know I can do it and I'd be beautiful at it, but I need to be able to
stare at someone's face long enough to understand the lights and darks
without creeping them out, getting caught, or having to use a photograph. I
feel cheated by photos.

However, I love taking photographs.

I can't wait to be done with school. I don't even care if I get a job being
a designer or even anything related. I just want to do something that pays
the bills and is relatively enjoyable so I can continue on with my creative
self. And to find out how to be happy.

I want to find happiness.

It's not to say that it's completely eluded me now, or that I've ever found
it in the first place, but that I lack a significant portion of it. Rather,
I've lost a significant portion of it. I had it once, in about 2000, 2001.
However, I lost it in my pursuit of betterment and excitement. Seattle may
have been the wrong place for me, as it's too expensive.

And I'm bearing the brunt of the horrid situation which is THERE ARE
NEXT-TO-NO APARTMENTS AVAILABLE because this wretched city is going condo.
It's like the ship is sinking and all the rich people are hogging up the
life boats and having a total disregard for the lives of other HUMAN BEINGS.
Then there are the rats left behind who are looting and stealing. That's my
landlord, he's the rat. Except someone's going to crush him in a bulkhead
below deck before the ship goes down, just to ensure he goes down with it.
:)

Writing this has made me feel a lot better, anyway. Maybe identifying the
problems and talking them out here will help. It's just that I feel so
unholy sometimes and just can't bring myself to write in a journal.
Definitely not a hand-written journal. Oh no no. My mind moves 80 words per
minute and I can't write as fast as I think so I must type. I type about as
fast as I think so it's all good. Well, I think in general I think faster
than I type, a whole hell of a lot actually, but I sort-of slow it dah' nah'
so I can get it all out before I lose the thought.

I need to get a hard drive enclosure for my 2nd / 3rd hard drive in my PC so
I can use it for my mac.

{{fin}}

That treatment on the fin looks like bloomers or something a can can girl
would wear, if she was wearing under-things.

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