the freedom to be is becoming more important. the freedom to live. but the rent is also important. i have a childhood of responsibility weighing on me: the parents of reason and saving and going to be before 12pm. they scold me every day. it's not as if i could ever coherantly enjoy not pay my bills, or anything. its not about bills. its about the myth of my life, the one that has been told over and over to me: and office job is better than an artist's job. Better to work in a cubicle than without. and i cannot leave. i have rent to pay. what would i do? even with 100 subscribers to the website, i still could not pay the rent and the bills. its a vicious self demeaning struggle.
and i still cannot spell.