I never write. I should though. i don’t blog often cause i can’t type that well. If I did it more maybe I will learn how. i also like to to use all lower case. some people really hate that. me, i don’t give a fuck.
yesterday i lived. my life, that is.
yesterday, i sat in a coffee shop and wrote with a pen and paper. like how it used to be done. in the days before laptops adorned every lame table in every lame coffee shop in the city. if fact, i might be old enough to remember a time whence only book readers, students studying for exams, tired jazz musicians, drunk people sobering up and wannabe writers stood or sat at tables with their respective beverages in coffee shops. some alone. some with people. some trying so hard not to look like they really want attention. others begging for it even though they have their noses down and pen scribbling whatever jibberish might come to the blank pathetic minds. i’ve stopped being that person haven’t i? nope. i’m doing it now. accept for now i am that pathetic person with a laptop, sitting in a coffee shop, typing clumsily at this plastic patch of letters.
i wanna go home and play video games. i don’t want to play them here. even though i could. but, how very tacky would that be.