o4232oo6
today begins and ends. it's a day with no time. the sun sets, so i assume the day has journeyed its usual course. i am almost to my twenty-fourth birthday. a boy i know just wished me a good year of it for the first time. i am running out of canvases. shall i move to the walls and forget about the returned deposit? i think i'm heading into my usual painting pause. this is where i begin to read and write. who knows how long it will be this time.
"you start out loving something, and you twist it and mar it, find a way to make money at it, and all of a sudden years pass and you've forgotten what you started out loving."
i missed that quote the other time i happened to stumble across the movie, hope floats. i realized, at that moment that that is the perfectly summarized reason that i hate thomas kinkade.