Here we go.

So not well-documented so much. I haven’t written in a while.

I saw Wicked last night downtown. Every time I see a Broadway caliber musical, I rethink my decision to give it up. I was always given parts, at least in the chorus, and I seem not to have much for prospects in the dance community at least as of yet. Voice lessons anyone? I should find a sugar daddy to fund me. For real, life is too fucking expensive. My dignity is less important than my career. haha. jk? Not quite sure anymore. What does it matter anyway? If i don’t believe in heaven or hell what should it matter, right? I don’t know.

Maybe I should write in here more. Maybe I should stop just sitting around and do something with my life. Although, I’d argue I am…just wtf am I doing though? Trying like hell to graduate so I can start a dance company and work at the wonderful Target Corporation I suppose would be my ideal job. Or Best Buy. Both very gay friendly, not just tolerant.

Well that’s all for today, kids. I’ve grown up without realizing it. 24 here. I started writing blogs when I was 18. 6 years later, I’m no different. It’s all an illusion. Wiser? maybe. More independent? perhaps. More mature? never. Now I’m just living alone, with a cat, able to drink, make my own decisions. I’m still that boy though. The one who was afraid to be who he was.