Process and timewise

This Is Your Brain On-

Good morning, Monday Afternoon!

Today, I have been thinking deeply about a well known and widely discussed concoction known as The Back-Up Plan. This 'plan' is something that is discussed widely in the nether regions of Adulthood, where things like tax returns and student loan payments flutter through the air like dragonflies from hell.

Today, I feel like smashing things.
Today, I bask in the wake of those who went before me, of those who boldly slept in gutters and breathed in car exhaust for a chance to just touch that great thing they were chasing.
Today, I say Fuck You to the barbed wire that keeps trying to pull me back into a realm of general comfort and casualty.
Today, I crumble with one part sadness and two parts psychotic joy.

This lifestyle isn't a choice anymore.
I am well aware that I am standing at a point where if I turn back now, or even turn the dial back to a much safer burn, I'll lose this beautiful momentum and suddenly I'll wake up in a minivan on my way to the carpool lane. Again.

I'm not the first human to have these feelings and it's obvious that I'm not the last, and so this documentation of "how it feels" isn't meant to shock anyone out of themselves with recognition or even to put my oh-so unique thumbprint on the yearbook page that is 2010.

The point is that I'm tired of talking. I'm tired of going on and on about "The Business End Of Things" while slowly letting The Dream become the bane of my
existence.

Fuck The Back-Up Plan.
Fuck the built in excuse to fail.

"Art consists in going to the full length. If you start with drums, you have to end with dynamite, or TNT."

So give me that glorious fuse, and I'll deep throat the mother fucker before blowing my guts out all over this dead universe.
I won't go out in one piece.