a topic that has alway confused me, because i do not possess the ability to select a hierarchy of importance pertaining to the things i hold dear. ergo, i have compiled a list in no particular order of things that matter the most to me:
-my macbook, my entire livelihood
-my sketchbooks, all documenting my progress as an artist
-my macbook charger because this motherfucking computer runs out way too fast
-my aesthetic-ass canon camera
-my nursery of plants, whom i pour all of my compassion into
-my micron pens that have unleashed a plethora of opportunities for me
-my ipod shuffle, the most retro thing i own and i have used since i was six
-my gay self
-my collection of cds, which is small but precious to me
-my imagination, which proves daily to be my best friend and worst enemy
ESTÁS LEYENDO
my crappy, existential thoughts dump
De Todonote from the far future, in much better times; consider this book a diary, an archive, a live day by day biography- of the lowest point of my life so far. draw entertainment from it, by all means, but take it as a warning, of all the bad that comes...
