House (the show)

I think I might end up on the show House, well, not really ON the show, but at least develop some strange disabling sickness that would be written into a script for the show. See, you know how I’m always complaining that my ceiling leaks when it rains? Well, the leaky ceiling turned into a leaky wall and eventually into a damp mess. I lifted up all the plastic I had laid down today (to semi protect the carpet from getting soaked) and when I did, low and behold the great and lovely mold that I hear so much about that tend to kill people, make them sick or perhaps even turn them blind. At first I was pretty disgusted with the nastiness of what it looked like, kind of pancake like, and seriously, about the size of those tiny pancakes I got as a kid at Perkins.
So, with all that said, if I end up passing out someday in front of you, make sure when they take me to the Hospital tell Dr. House that I’ve been living in an apartment room that has been moldy. I’m not sure something like mold can be taken care of overnight either. If it’s showing on the outside of the wall, what’s going on inside the wall and the ceiling?

Any Moron Can...

take a picture. 

write a story. 

be creative. 

maybe it's just the moron that decides to do such. 

i think i may have a moronic nature. 

why?

i want to write stories, stories i have no business writing. 

if you know me well enough you've experienced my daily struggle of not being able to entertain with my stories. i have plenty. 

you've most likely been on the recieving end of a long winded, never ending story that has no direction or point. 

the struggle? slowing my mind down enough to simply articulate an idea and complete a structured, thought out narrative. 

if i could only write. 

i mess around with photos instead. i know how to mess with photos some.

but. 

any moron can take a picture.

I'm not "Dad" material

Yeah. I don't know why I'm even mentioning "dad" type things, but, at the moment, I know I'm not Dad material. I'm not even relationship material. I'm simply my material. My material is made up of all things me. All things "me" mean all things I can handle, all things I have a tolerance for. I have a high tolerance for all things dirty and leaky...like my ceiling. I'm okay with a leaky ceiling in my bedroom, considering the fact that I pay a good weekend out for rent. I'm cool if I don't have furniture of my own, or cutlery for that matter. I have a few pair of converse, a pair of Sperry topsiders and a decent collection of Lucky jeans. 

I have an idea, and an idea is enough for me. Of course, my idea needs a pinch of experience, equipment and money, but who's really counting? I've been done living my life for my parents a hell of a long time ago, I figure if I become successful in anyones eyes, they'll be proud that I've done anything.  

I'm my own worst enemy in my own world; so I cheated and read the last chapter where I ignore the worst enemy and started to do stuff regardless of equipment, experience and money. There isn't a sequel cause I've stopped the horrible questioning and insecurities that happen in the original. 

Like I said, I'm all things me; I'm on this journey by myself and I'm not letting anyone distract me with reponsibility or expectations that are destructive to what I want, or where I believe I'm being called to be. 

Selfish? Hm...not really, I'd say more responsible than I've ever been. 

that's it.