Life...

In all seriousness, and without one thought of a depressing nature, I think it's safe to say, that life itself, in being sentient, is an emotional phenomenon primarily described as solitude. There's always something missing, and it becomes our principal goal to find whichever we think that is.

Whether it be the search for God, a unifying theory describing ,

(At this point, I was abruptly interrupted by a maintenance crew of four or five gentlemen, all on phones at the moment discussing the situation with various parties, knocking on my door. They entered and swiftly bee lined to the back room in which I was seated quietly, where apparently directly underneath, a pipe had burst, drenching the apartment below. I had to move all my shit out that side of my room, which includes my laptop and desktop computers, the desk and chair, speaker system, and amounts of other furniture, clothing, and various other accoutrement, and since then, there has been banging and whirring, and several other individuals have come in to take looks and ask me questions. They all seem very puzzled, but I mean come on guys. I should really be the puzzled one here.)

Now as I was saying, some people's lives lack excitement (obviously not mines), certain others are hungry or can't pay bills, some are in search for love or family, some are trying to accomplish remarkable feats, but lack the tools or senses, and some people just want a fucking cigarette. If you don't want something, you're dead. Choose your paths wisely.

Here are some pictures of god knows what:

(I actually just googled god knows what and went to extra large image sizes.)

A pic of my face yesterday morning, when I didn't really want to go to work, and I was right to not want to, because it was really fucking dumb and long:

Yesterday's tree:

Today's tree:

Me after rolling out of bed at noon:

And after cleaning up:

My idol.

Friedrich Nietzsche.

(click)