Sometimes I feel like the only person on the planet with problems. I feel like being 18 and and being black, and being an artist, and being semi-smart, and being somewhat in the know, makes me more of a minority than normal. I feel like sometimes doing the things I do, like riding my bike and taking pictures for fun, are really indie. Then again, I kind of am. I don’t play guitar, I play the Kaossilator. I wear beanies, and snap back hats. I listen to Justice and Modest Mouse. I can rap, and I can sing. I can make things rhyme and I can write poetry. All these things are useless facts about a single person in the world, who happens to live in America, and just maybe on the east coast, and even still, in Virginia and furthermore has a blog, that should be kept up more often. But they only remain useless until someone specific reads them, takes them in and finds some value in them. Why would anybody want to know that I can pull my upper lip over my nose? I don’t really know where this post is going. Look at this instead.
Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
Tee to the Hee
SNORT!