2019-09-15 | Subject | Beanie Weenies
I foolishly stand on my toes, looking over the crest of the hill to find something new in this barren, forsaken land of worn bots, crusty old images, and echoing stances of self validation; however, there is nothing, still nothing new. I refuse to turn away completely. I open another can of Beanie Weenies, eat it cold, and toss it next to the other hundred empty cans... my hobby, I suppose. Perhaps tomorrow will be different.