I love to write. I love to make a bang and follow it up with a swoosh. I love transmitting my thoughts on to a website for all to read, or none to follow. Sometimes my blogs make review boards and sometimes they make the trash. My best work has already been finished, I am just waiting to hit the bottom. I used to write poetry, while in the slumps of Iraq and look where that got me. I'm fucked up in America, or as Bushy would say Amer'ca. Wow, what to write.....It seems as if I am hitting a wall of potential as the night slips away. I am supposed to be sleeping but instead I am wide awake waiting for my 5 a.m. buzzer to go off. Then I am off to Arapahoe Basin for the day where I will enjoy absolutley nothing. I am so excited to kick this year off, yet I am so worried that my time snowboarding has come to and end. What if it has? What if I am past my peak? What worries will I bring my children when I cannot do anything besides write. My skin will be old and saggy, yet I will still have this message board. I wonder if what I write will ever make money. Maybe I will be fortunate enough to have my work plagerized while I am alive to see it in someone else's name. I will take full credit for that, even though someone else already received it.
Ahhhh.....Shit.....I should really be getting back to bed,
keystone-
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