waiveringsaint

So I been dreaming pretty often, idk maybe something has been restored in the chemistry in my brain, or that I feel like I’m starting to get things back into order of what order there is to my life. But mostly like I see things sometimes like a rainbow earthworm in a space suit, or a rocket ship that is propelled with nose sniffing power. Sometimes I see myself molesting dogs and bears and horses and things. Whether it’s something occasionally clique like a missing friend or girl friend, or weird stuff like ghosts and skeletons wearing pointy crowns, it’s just been a lot lately too much and too frequently like a have a lot to think about when I go to sleep at night. And a lot of stems from things that aren’t tangiblue to the touch or senses, mostly imaginary debociles or a concern with an items that don’t physically exist in a way that matters or I just worry about it. Like I’ve Pulled so far from into the normal path to the deviantion from it like insurgents or divergent or antisocial behavior that I actually experience a type of hallucination in my dementia that I am receibing revelation of some Devine source when in reality I have been making a giant blog about the way my endocrine system has been making me feel like I’m just tripping my balls thinking about chicks and stuff. But last night it wasn’t like the same chicks or some new different chicks, like there were even more different chicks. But it’s not specifically the body of these chicks I was fixating on as much as I was before because they seemed to be trying to relay some piece of information to me and I couldn’t completely hear what they were saying because it was like two chicks talking at the same time trying to figure out which one I was listening to, and I didn’t make out what either of them said except when I kinda was trying to hold hands with the one behind me with my leg wrapped around the one in front of me. But I was trying to speak some other language, like I was saying “look, if you want a sandwich? I’ll buy you a sandwich. If you both want sandwiches I’ll just buy both of you sandwiches“ and she knew what I was thinking because they both knew that I wasn’t really listening harder to the one rather than the other. And then they both said tooth light, and I saw these rainbow teeth in my dreams. It’s kinda weird because these chicks were kinda blue and yellow like the Pepsi girl. But there was something else before that too, I was trapped in a hospital and I kept trying to get out but every time I tried to leave the hospital they kept capturing me and bringing me back. I kinda rememberEd that goat that was jumping over the fence and I remember that the last goat just opened the door and took the fence apart and walked thrPugh without jumping the fence like all the other goats jumping the fence and that’s why I kept getting caught because I kept trying to turn the door knob and then I saw a rope tied to two poles and I was like “maybe if the door knob doesn’t work, I should jump over the rope tied to the two poles” and I saw myself jump over the trap and the hospital couldn’t catch me because they couldn’t make it past the trap. And then I made it to where I was going when I was mostly just trying to get out and I saw like a foxy looking girl in a glass case because I ran into this art gallery at this art museum I found wandering in the desert and then I turned around and I saw this butt naked guy laying on a couch staring at me because I broke into his house so I kinda ran out really quick, but as I left the house I saw all this graffiti art on the wall and I was stopping to take a picture of it and this guy dressed in all red kinda started approaching me and started dancing like that martial arts Brazilian dance style and I was like yeah like whatever and I turned my back on him and went to leave and I felt him slap the back of my head and I was like “why is this guy picking on me” and the Pepsi girls were right. It’s not safe to enter the swing because I don’t sell sandwiches, if I try to swing with the swingers and the gays and the promiscuous girls, my teeth are going to change colors on them and make them feel unsafe. And maybe I see this in my dream because I am worried about it.

Good news Bad news. I can digitalize my drawn art now, but I was thinking having 2 pieces of the same art is only half as fun as having new art. However, if I leave those sketches unfinished they’ll always be hanging over my head in the shadows of lost time lost ingenuity && I don’t want to forget that little episode at the King of Prussia shopping center where I wrote an entire comic book about Jake, Sally, Kira, Melon, Deerie, and Jeff the Killer (who is now going to be portrayed as Casey Jones) there is also a case of transcending the identity of a previously known Arctic Fox who’s name is being changed for some undetermined explanation that isn’t open for discussion but I am thinking of what can be done in terms of “pro-temp Stage position” (like a blank spot in a movie script that is written for a role that isn’t filled by the original designer of a character that portrays an adaptation of my interpretation of their position in my story but without the additional input of their originality in reference to the way I direct the actions of the puppet) also? Why did I decide to name Melon after a Sawahili Sun God? Isn’t it another shopping center in Denver that Akash is named of some store over there on Broadway? That’s what kid said in Rehab when I went is that his parents sent him to boarding school because he drove a Porsche 911 Turbo off an Egyptian Oil Tanker and wrecked it straight into a brick wall and he didn’t have permission to take the skis and that is why I thought Melon should speak Swahili in his reflection of me who was sent to Rehab for the same offense of Grand Theft Auto.

dude i don't even know why i'm still trying to break out the pens and pencils, like it's not really helping anyone or get anything accomplished. furries don't want to endorse people to scribble; they want to have sex with super-models. aside from physical fitness (which requires stuff like a proper diet, a work-out routine most likely with specific machines that peak the results of putting in effort, SUPPLEMENTS!!) anyways what would be way better is if i had like a super retarded job with a whole boat load of cash and if i had some sado-masochistic micro-manager person that knew how to use bit-coin type deal and if i poured all my money into making furry TV programs. or something to that effect (the UK) its stupid all those accounts where they're like "if everyone just put's 1 dollar in the mail we'll have your favorite TV program running by next year" no. what if just showed up with a brief-case of cash and just pulled a James Franco when he directed "The Disaster Artist" and instead of wasting time and energy trying to pop otc thizzles and making garage band solo act music pieces or juggling rusty gym equipment and working on children's coloring books; if somehow i found a way to launch a full blown TV show. (and spent all my money) at least artists who do know what they're doing could profit off people like me who are not ashamed to admit i'm a failure... but i don't have to fail by myself if i endorse someone who is good at what they do and they succeed then it's almost the same as if i had succeeded too right?? i guess money doesn't matter to me giving it away or throwing it away or letting it go up in smoke; or just destroying all my possessions and burning all the bridges in all my friendships just to be a furry. nobody believes in me but i can believe in yiffing in hell. i need more money

soon i'd like to get back to making art here again. i guess they changed the website? tried going core before, i guess wreck it ralph broke the internet trying to load bank heist cash into a CD rom. huh?