Everything is good because we're all here still alive

I suck at blogging. It gives me anxiety. I think writing papers has almost killed my writing style. I had a poetry class last semester and choked. I was pulling tricks out of my hat doing all I could just to get a B.

I want to remove myself from my literal thought-out brain and I want to scramble myself speaking metaphors like I used to.

I have so much to explain.

I am sort of stranded at the moment financially and it really fucking sucks. I have such a traveling itch in the summer, why must I feel obligations towards responsibility!?