proser

I make art for blind eyes, and speak to empty chairs and the deaf. I write and paint what I'd like to enjoy, but can't find. For me. This is not pretentiousness, this is apathy to public reception. This is my backscratcher, a place to prattle prose and paint as I find myself uncontrollably compelled to do. Enjoy or don't, I'll not be affected.
~ Thursday, April 14 ~
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death and taxes

Fuck TurboTax.  Fuck America.  I don’t even want the money.  Leave me alone.