It's when I'm sitting here staring at the gaping white maw of my ineptitude that I truly feel like a piece of utter shit. I'm being hyperbolic but these days writing has been the only thing I've really felt proud of in a while. I'm sitting here right now at 2:15 AM at my crappy apartment watching Malcolm in the Middle and biting the shit out of my finger tips. I have nothing of beauty to put here and that kind of bothers me.
I'm going to call Ursula tomorrow and tell her about the sorta serious relationship I've suddenly found myself in. I don't know how any of this is going to end up but at least there's a ghost of a chance with Kara. I'd love to give you a shot Ursula but you're about two thousand miles away from me. You should know that you're justified in having about ten thousand times more confidence than you do. Here goes nothing.
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Go ahead make my day