it's definitely been a moment in time since i've had an inkling of actual thought worth typing. not really. i've just been to lazy to revisit work in which, initially, was the reason i birthed this blog. truthfully, it's hard to solidify thoughts. i'm a daydreamer, so my train of thought is continuously on random. but any efforts to make something tangible of those dreams were trumped by that sense of wishy-washiness of a person who's searching for nothing in particular. i'm a walking-talking sienfeld episode -- no real plot line, no real theme, just a series of lines connecting a to b.
so what's the point to all of this then? nothing much, i suppose. rather than work, i want to re-create this blog into something more cryptic and therapeutic. this blog's rebirth is a forensic investigation of my vomit: what i'm eating and what i'm actually digesting. chunks and chunks. it's never pretty.
so what the fuck is on tap then?
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