Only 50 a day, yet I cant stay away, though in this lies the bothersome worry of the everyday

Ideas start to pile up, and yet the urge constantly disolves. The resolutions, the opinions, feelings, both negative and positive about all of life's little indulgences. How does one develop a whole new means of presentation for the personal happenings of one, while also trying to re-invent the persona of a creation that has steamrolled out of social control. Only 50 a day, yet I can't stay away, though in this lies the bothersome worry of the conversational everyday.

Sometimes those embedded blogger rules that come about from the historical ramblings of others start to make sense, as you can write so freely, void or family, or friends who give a damn. Only fifty a day, yet I cant stay away, though in this lies the bothersome worry of the conversational everyday.

Do I talk about budding love, do I flaunt good fortunes in the face of a veiled readership. Probably not the best idea. I start to wonder if writing in poetic tongues, and loveable quotes from other authors will some how make my day to day more mysterious and more socially acceptable for myself. I hate that I cringe if someone brings this thing up. Only fifty a day, yet I cant stay away, though in this lies the bothersome worry of the conversational everyday.

Its weird how many addictive vices are injected through power and plugs as opposed to needles, or noses, or burnt paper.

posted by mr. tomas ubik @ Tuesday, January 03, 2006