I’ve reached the end of my rope — it’s Saturday.

God won’t show that kind of mercy, we’ve got to do it all ourselves these days.

It’s 3:31 and easier said than done. Lucy’s have gone up a dime which is outrageous yet we all pay it.

This is the book 

I’m writing in colored pencils that GOT

tossed to me or at me, accusatorily, so naturally I felt I MUST defend the honor of these pencils so I tossed the 99 cent store case coz I saw a spider hanging out (they like to bite my lip but only on one side so it looks like bad collagen) and I wanted to suddenly be able to draw. Just like I often suddenly want to be able to go onstage with the Rolling Stones and pull off a Tina Turner but to follow up on such metaphors would be farcical miss the point et cetera 
Frankly I don’t care that much about it 
So that leaves the metaphor. Which is actually in the strands of DNA

and I have loads of that metaphorical understanding which is pretty much like finally accepting you have asberger syndrome when they decide it no longer exists.

Or something like that. See simile.