For half of my FUCKING life I've had to listen to my sister argue about insignificant things with whoever her boyfriend is at the time using words and sounds no greater than fucking and saliva against the back of her teeth.
wordless she leans, wounded that he'd go a shudder of love for him, and no way to show it she ponders, and ponders, and finds her heart the same over and over when she sleeps the butterfly's imprisoned in her dreams.
I've come to hate illustration at OCAD. (Like, what the fuck is "illustration" anyways?)
The people are pretentious. The images lack meaning. The professors don't know shit. And I'm paying $500 for a course that is supposed to teach me how to enhance my work digitally? What the fuck!