Future Home of Precis
". . . God, I need to start a blog. And get my teeth cleaned. Okay, I will post this and at least think of starting a blog. Banish all insecurities! I'm worthy of a blog!!! Here, I'll do a 3 minute free association writing practice to unblock myself:
I'm sitting at the office getting paid 8 dollars to be completely in the moment. Coffee. Cigarette. Not now; blogging. This is the future, we are blogging. No, this is the moment. 5 seconds ago this was the future. Now it's the moment. Moment. Crotch itches. Too much coffee. The moment. Completely in the moment. Thinking of googling "bugs bunny porn," but I'm at work and trying to be in the moment. Moment. "Mom"-ent. Mom. Mom. Ooh, gross, must not think "bugs bunny porn" and "mom." It fucks you up forever. Not like that. Not like that. Amused at myself. God, I'm so smart. And handsome and caring. No, you're a shiftless, worthless boner-loving douchebag!!!! Who the fuck just said that? Oh, inner editor. Let it go. Let it go. Back to the moment. Whatever, blogging's hard. I'm going to drink some more coffee and smoke a cigarette, maybe work hard today, go home and start doing yoga and reading the Koran (Qu'ran?). Possibly apply to grad school and learn Chinese. I'll just have to stop sleeping. But now I'm just so tired of being right here, blogging in the eternal moment. moment. moment. moment. moment. moment. moment. "
