its a good thing I'm not in it for the money.
I'm in it for the whuffie, the kudos, the props, the karma, the fucking principle of being content, not just invisible eyeball.
and if I never find my niche, my market, my people, my golden ticket or my purpose, at least I have a universal resource locator that points to something I did.
yeah I know, rugged individualist like whoa, plz wipe the cowboy greasepaint off yr persona, but wtvr. i take this opportunity to spend someof my bonus points for living in a tent, cash in some credibility and say read between the lines, somebody update me on the new language standard that can actually express the contradictions herein. I am a difficult obstinate pansyassed communitarian utopian agrarian net-citizen with a thing for the best and worst and end of humanity, and really no interest in humanity at all. I can relate better to the mall shooter than gwb (his angsty picture looks like friends I've had), and look forward to a future where innacuracy is impossible.
where am I going withthis? what I'm trying to say is, I can't sleep. this is what it is. remind me to giveyou my reductionist analysis of psychedelia. turn over and try again mumble snuffle yawn sigh
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