i'm tired. the world looks different.
mom wants me to copy a book for her sunday school class. i thought i'd be nice. i'm trying to do that these days. it started out ok.
but stuff happens, and pages later, stuff happens.
and suddenly i don't want to do this anymore. what started out as a project to do my mom a favor has become--
well, if this is truth, why should we keep it from children? like sex. like death. don't they need to know? i'm always ranting about how we clean up Bible stories for kids. how noah and the ark ought to have corpses floating by the chubby boat, which is always full to exploding with giraffes and elephants but not hyenas or eye-stabbing vultures.
being edgy and relevant ain't so fun when you got kiddies to think about.
not that i have kiddies. my ma has kiddies. i have big sheets of paper, watercolors, and a book of 22 full-color pages that may as well be 103958 pages because at this rate, i'm only at 6.