Pepper in eggs.

Luke put quite a bit of pepper in those eggs this morning, but I didn't taste it. As in, it wasn't overpowering. I took a fact from this:

I over season stuff.

This could be the reason the salt content in anything I cook is equivalent to the ocean. I focus too much on seasoning, and not the original flavor itself. Humorously, it applies to my writing and, life in general. I think I'm getting too wrapped up in what I think I should do, and not why I enjoy those things. As in, it's work instead of the enjoyment. Thereby, I lose the passion of what I'm doing, and everything melts into deary sameness and average bunk that I'm ashamed of living in.

Right now, I'm going to write. I don't care what I do it for, or what I do it about. But words shall spill out constantly. Improving however I can, and leave the things like collecting contacts and things as such a secondary stress factor.


At any rate, my friend Jedd is getting too hung up on women. This is a road I hope he doesn't continue, and that I hope I don't fall into as well. Companionship is great, more so of what I thought I had before, but it's not something to rule your life. Of course things would better with that type of symmetrical love, lining up to form something great. But I should not holster life in the pocket for it, nor should anyone. Plus, things come to you when you don't look for them, right? I can wait. I'm patience. I shouldn't forget that.

My father gave me the "you are basically worthless" talk, despite my recent achievements and stepping up of the game. I've all but ignored the fallacy in his speech against my life, because I'm proud of myself lately.


And at the end of the day, that's the only person that should matter in that case.

{Fish Wrap Magazine isn't a good model for any ideas.}