something you’d rather be doing

I’ll be working 5 days a week from now on, as my job offered me a second position in the same office. I don’t mind it much, i’m grateful — sure, but there’s always something you’d rather be doing. Truthfully i’m not much built for office work and having a boss, but alas — one must hustle to get the golden egg. I just know i need to sleep. Where its good and safe. Away from the screaming. The holy terrors and bad ideas. Christ i wish i could sleep.


Recently i disappeared. I turned off all my social media. It was starting to stress the hell outta me, and when it starts doing that it sure as shit isn’t worth it anymore. I’m not the kind of person who wants to chase social media like a butterfly chases the last of the dying flowers in the autumn. No sir, i sure ain’t ! I don’t care. I simply just don’t care enough to show my whole life on the internet and i shan’t apologise for that. It’s not what i’m about. So i turned off instagram which in turn lost me followers — so what? Instagram reminds me a lot of past clingy relationships, so in much the same case; good riddance ! I turned off facebook apart from the few conversations i keep with my family in Denmark so they know i’m not dead. I haven’t made another vlog either, as i’m sure a few of you have noticed, and i’ve been meaning to. I have it planned out though, but finding the time is the kicker with how much of it i don’t have. The thing is that i can’t predict when i’m going to get inspired. I don’t know when i’ll get a wild hair up my arse and want to create or write.
Unfortunately i didn’t get round to working on my western either, its crazy how time slips away when you’re living in the wrong place or living for one goal and then in turn end up missing another. Well, i guess i also LET it slip away a little. The snow is long gone now though and i haven’t even scratched the surface really. So for now we write, we plan and we choreograph. And if it ends up being filmed in the desert? I’ll be pleased as punch. Boy, what a dream. To sit in a run down telegraph house writing  about the Outlaw and the Ranger, as the Texas desert burns like a son of bitch outside, where the town isn’t big enough for me and Josie-Moe to be on the same street without getting into some kind of fight about stockings or the newest hairstyles, that i secretly don’t care about but i love the argument just the same.

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