Graveyard Dirt: Two Worlds and In-between

Hook, Line and Sinker

I'm god-fucking-awful with endings. They're my creative blight; the constant reminder that I typically blow my wad with an irresistible hook, line and sinker. I have supernova beginnings and low battery endings because I have an ongoing problem with pacing myself: I wail on the gas like a motherfucking valkyrie going to war, and the only fucking thing that can stop the unholy momentum behind my fat, martial-ruled ass is an empty fucking tank completely devoid of juice.

I mean, I'm so goddamned tunnel visioned that I'll continue running if there's vaporized fumes to consume. And then - out of nowhere - the ride'll suddenly stop, and I'll come to a jarring, what the flying motherfuck? halt miles away from the finish line. (You'd think I'd get wise to the route I've floored so many times before, but the scenery doesn't look familiar until the last fucking second, and by that point it's already too fucking late to ease off the gas.)

In other words, I'm so fucking exhausted that I'm ready to slip into an indica induced post-Harvest coma. (Last year Harvest began on September 1st, and it took me three shell shocked weeks to recover. This year? Harvest began mid-July.) In addition to catching up on lost sleep, I also need to mentally decompress. For approximately four months I lived, fucked and worked exclusively outside, and now I've got to get my head around the new indoor-themed set I'll be tyrannically ruling over for the next six months of life.

As you'd imagine I'm woefully behind on shit. Emails, trades, thank yous, private messages, packages, mentions, promises, direct messages, reviewing, birthdays - you name it, and I'm knee-fucking-deep (and sinking). In fact, I was several years behind with some shit BEFORE Harvest began this year. A quarter of a year later I'm even worse off than I was before: my desktop containing my entire life might be fried (not to mention all of the homemade porn I made for "Santa Claus" this year), and this dinky laptop Italics got me requires some mighty repairs to get it working properly.

I know it probably sounds corny, but I really want to thank everyone for giving me such a wide fucking berth these past few months. You guys have been hella patient with me as I got my Harvest on, and I appreciate that everyone respected the distance I needed in order to perform all of my crazy-ass duties, obligations and responsibilities. Now that my feral, non-hibernating ass is indoors for winter I can refocus my attention to Graveyard Dirt, catch up with all forms of communication and finalize the all-important details of future sales and giveaways.