I have been home for a week now and things never get easier in fact every time I come home it feels a bit emptier. In a way I guess its me just realizing my home is elsewhere and there is less and less here for me. The solitude of home really gets to me leaves me to me and that is the most bittersweet thing ever.This is my new sketchbook I got about a month ago here are some of the sketches,doodles, and nonsense I have been doing maybe it will help answer those questions you guys so often tend to ask me, "what the hell is going on in my head?" I get it I am an eccentric individual I don't even understand my own thought process-- sometimes it is stronger than me, it makes me weak, really weak like running a marathon in a circle. I will think about the same thing until I get it, finish it, or whatever context it fits. In other words whatever is on my mind has a death sentence.
Watch out you have been warned.