In short, I'm swamped.
Of course, because art has no practical purpose in my life, that's all I want to do right now, so some drawings and such may start filtering in.
People say all the time that art thrives on poison. Seems like for now great heaps of unendurable stress is my poison.
As to what chickenhead syndrome means (you read this far?), it's when you're so busy/crazy/stressed that you run around like a chicken does after its head has been chopped off.
There's an image for you.









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if you're not on the edge, you're taking up too much fucking space
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This is my signature
And thank you so much.
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Why live in the world when you can live in your head.
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if you're not on the edge, you're taking up too much fucking space
So instead I'll say that I have to go now because I am currently escaping the CIA in a small rubber raft out in the Arctic Ocean, and it works better if I move around so their satellites can't read my mind.
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"They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety." -Benjamin Franklin
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