“A man who loses his privacy loses everything, Sabina thought. And a man who gives it up for his own free will is a monster.” – The Unbearable Lightness of Being
“One shan’t talk about one’s gym attendance, breakfast habits, romantic relationships or tiffs amongst friends on, near or around the internet. Truly, that is a travesty that surpasses even the most deplorable of footwear purchases. Yes child, even clogs.” – Rachel Daily
People stress me out. I said it. It’s true. They really stress me out. I don’t deal with theatrical situations well and despite the fact that I currently have a job that has me in the throes of social media on a daily basis, I tend only to share snarky comments for my parents to read on my Twitter later so they may adequately worry about my sanity levels. They are far too young to stop having to fear. Privacy these days is a very strange thing in that it’s not possible. If you’re a sociable loner with a good sense of humor, an inevitable full circle of events will likely make you laugh and then hide in your covers for a splendid three months. Ah the life of a walking oxymoron – you poor zanyhoo you.
Thus, an extensive array of side projects, creative endeavors and inevitable flops (at least some of them) have piled up and they are about to be tackled and executed if it darn well kills me. First thing’s first….learn to write my name in such a way that it won’t look like a 13 year old boy wrote it. Truly then, I’ll be artistic. Second thing’s second…do the things I keep incessantly talking about at the rate of at least one a week. Third thing’s third…you get the idea…text Dad “still sane” at the rate of at least once a week. (Sup Dad! Thx 4 readin)
I. am. so. excited. <— personal information…I’m an over-sharer…disregard everything above