I'm supposed to be writing an essay in the form of Michel de Montaigne right now.

Instead I'm listening to Freelance Whales and thinking about clothing. Thinking about reading. Thinking about how I've been neglecting to call people back.

My essay is called "Of Youth and Manhood", based off of the latin viri and the Kings of Leon album. Also based upon my life and how I'm actively resisting growing up/civil/religious/familial/personal duty.

So that's what my essay will be about. It will be written in my basement in the light of my Christmas lights that hang on my wall probably while I listen to crappy music.

I can't ever tell if I'm perpetually in a bad mood anymore or if I'm just being pathetic... Hmm... Something definitely isn't making a good connection in my body. I'm going to assume that more Diet Coke will cure it. Diet Coke cures anything.