blood oranges

I've stopped making goals because they never pan out. Why get all excited about something which will probably never happen anyways?

I feel that my life is speeding by and I am getting nothing accomplished, as though any day now I am going to wake up and I am going to be a middle-aged undergrad living in a tiny shared apartment working for slightly more than minimum wage allowing his creativity and intelligence to rot away.

My growing cynicism can't be healthy.

Fuck February.

Keep on Tranglin,
Anthony