Machines

I never think of writing until I've exhausted all other outlets for non-productive entertainment. Currently, I'm most interested in knowing where this whole "we must be productive" and "we must produce" mentality originates. Like, what if I want to waste lots of time doing nothing? What if I want to engage in sloth-like behavior? What makes it wrong? Who says it's wrong?

And, what if I want to ask a series of rhetorical questions?

Last night, while in the throes of an "inability to complete any project in its entirety" moment, I decided to make-- for the first time in my LIFE-- a blog. What a fucking memory for the scrapbooks.

I also made the executive decision to scrap my initial post. It was long-winded and crusting over with drivel, so I canned it within two hours. I don't know how something could "crust over" but what the hell? I like the sound of it.

I'm also partially angry, partially annoyed, and somewhat bored. I'm going to read now.

Uno

I have no real reason for creating this blog. I don't intend to keep up with it nor do I anticipate passing the URL around among my friends. Right now, I'm simply procrastinating.