insane as it sounds, and probably a heinous crime to boy and girlfriends who know of my sick fetish for work, there is an unbelievable longing for those mad crazy days of filming around the clock and close to no sleep hours. no reason why. guess when it is a pressure cooker around with family and all, even the supposed unthinkable becomes actual respite.
there can be no cessation to any of the things that happen, has to happen and will happen, that much is truth. or rather, that much is reality, brutally painful as it can be. indulgence that lead to destruction of moronic absurdity by personal standards is beyond me.
so that said, where does that really leave me??? missing mad crazy. preposterously ludicrous a notion as it may be, a busy bee workaholic lifestyle cannot be a fault, after all, it is a hard knock life.
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