computer love and digital fuck-ups

so it's never too old to learn something new.the last two days, i have been incapacitated unable to do shit because i have been overwhelmed with a overwhelming sense of frustration and most of all, guilt and self disappointment.i made a mistake about posting something, some time ago and during the brief minutes i had it up, someone who i would not have liked to read it and wanted to take it down for that sole reason, read it and fuck. worse part is- i realized in a second i was completely wrong.i also know now that muthafuckas actually read my blog (occasionally and accidentally).then there is the issue of a coincidence and too much of one. the last couple days have just been a synchronicity of events that almost made it seem like my mind was manifesting things as i made them up. especially your worst nightmares. it made think.i'm don't ever treat this blog like a public place. i would put the private function but what the fuck for. people would be like "what makes that muthafucka think we want to know about him". if you have private switched on, good for you. this is a place where i have set for my inspirations of my music. my facebook might be where u wanna go to see my drunk photos, or find out i went somewhere with someone when i didn't want you to, etc etc. but this here. is real talk as and when it happens.i wrote this blog to share my inspirations so everyone of my entries, less for updates, have almost everything to do with my music and what i write. see, one day, i'm gonna be the greatest. just like everyone else in this game, i wanna be that and i am going to be that.and when i'm dead and gone, i hope a generation of internet children who are looking to do what i do can find these endless entries that fuel my creation of what i hope will be a lifetime of great songs.i hope that this be a lesson to me about what i scribble on this place but i hope it is also me making it very clear that i use this blog as the wall of my stories and inspirations that make these songs i write.there seems no way to getting myself out of this this time. so sorry, you. i wrong you. it as unfortunate you chanced upon my blog i never speak of much but is truly where i scribble whatever. but stop smoking, that shit'll kill you one day.i wished i was mark phelps too but unfortunate i'm not. it's called photoshop, bitches.