magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

Sometimes, I wish that I told so many lies that I had a hard time keeping the actual facts of my life story straight in my own head. Sometimes I wish that I were an alcoholic, or a drug addict, or that I could even successfully manage to get addicted to cigarettes. Sometimes I feel that I need to have hit rock bottom to really be a creative genius.

Of course I know that this is crazy. That's why none of these things have happened. Because I'm basically well put together, and I know that. Because I know that a life of struggling with addiction or truly antisocial behaviour like pathological lying is an entirely different ball of wax from a generalized lack of motivation and a relatively minor bipolar disorder.

Instead of pulling out a shot glass, bottle of whiskey, and pack of smokes when I got home, and going up to my roof, I gathered up my dirty clothes and headed to the laundromat. Neither was a particularly creative gesture, but one was a little bit more practical.