I Can't Stop You From Believing

Alright, I recently started another anime.

I know what you're probably thinking.
"Brett, you crazy human being! Why would you devote your time to doing such things? Imagine what you might turn into!!!"

Don't worry, guys! I'm still regularly showering and applying deodorant. I don't wear sweaters or capes to school. Honestly, guys, don't think I'll cave in that easily.

Well, anywho, it's Dragonball Z. It's pretty sick.


Today I spent much time around the one that -- some would say -- I love. Which means it was a good day. To any bloggers who might be reading this and devastated that you are not the one I admire, I am sorry. I can't exactly just practice polygamy and still be legal. Geez.

In fact, much of the inspiration from my art comes from my desire to love and be loved. It is, after all, one of the basic human needs. (Well, somewhat basic. Food and shelter and whatevs is pretty important, I suppose)

One day, hopefully someday soon, I'll post my favorites of the art that I've done on here, so you can see and enjoy and whatever you do with art. I do stuff with sharpies, and it's okay, I guess. I would really like to do some graffiti as soon as I age a bit and buy some air-brushes. It may be illegal or legal. I don't really care, honestly. If it's legitimately awesome, the cops probably won't care much. Or the train driver-people. (Their name escapes me)



Have you ever watched a movie with someone, and all you could do was stare at them throughout the whole thing?
If not, then I'm probably some creep that finds that kinda thing somewhat romantic and should probably go to prison.
If so, then I guess one can say I'm human.


Moments like those I wish could last forever.


Ahhh . . . love. Thou art not like unto seminary, because I actually enjoy thee.



I just noticed that I actually have a pretty hard time smelling sharpies now. Is that a bad thing? I suppose I've just become used to it. My sibling came in to my room while I was drawing and was all like, "Yo homie bro, them sharpies rank this room up." And I was all like, "Wuddup wit dat? Chillax, dude. I ain't pickin' up nothin' in these ole smellin' factories." And they were all like, "Whatever, man. You must be dopin' on them rainbow pens."

Well, I may have gangsta'd up the conversation a little bit, but I felt like the actual dialog wasn't groovy enough.


Well, my breath smells like peanut butter.

Over and out.