You want art under this roof? Look down.
Everything in my room is pretty feng shui. It's a love-hate relationship in this 9 by 9. Or so I'm assuming. My bed lays on the floor, my paintings that I never hung up, on the ground against a wall, with magazines and books on top and in between.


I have just realized I have at least 12 different places I write, different journals for different reasons. Most of them are note books, one's a sketch, others are forms of technology and one is on a completely different hard drive.
You know when you chew gum to help your ears unpop? I just popped in some. A double bubble never hurt anyone. And then I popped my ear, the opposite way. How does that even happen?


Well, my room is clean. Feels nice. I shall sleep in my gym clothes so that I must actually get up in the morning.
I have such a clear set mind this late at night.
Alrighty, 12 journals (which I continue to write in each), 7 juggling books to read, multitasking magazines, and oh hey video games. Alright, time to sleep on it.