That my life is turning to shit.
Let me ease you into this, abrupt and blunt.
I plan everything, to the t . I love to organize and destroy things just so I can organize again. Emphasis needed. Or at least understood.
I see my life in a city that has life all around. Not to be contained to the few creative minds that could easily change the world for the good. Not an exclusive group , one that is free and open to new possibilities.
This is where I see myself. In a city called New York City. Yes the home of the many talented and unique people that could be nothing else but themselves. Yet I question if I’m suppose to be there.
I have no real artist talent, that I know of. I hope that I contain at least some. A small amount. That would be wonderful, or fucking fantastic.
My organization skills are not coming into play as they have so many times before, and I have destroyed countless times. My planning skills are not needed I think. More luck I believe.
I think I have plenty of that. Things fall at the place they are suppose to. Always have throughout my life.
This bothers me.
A little too much.
I have rambled enough for today. Just some inquiries.