I've never been so busy in my life before. To be honest, it is very quite frightening. I now pull two jobs, a full time gig at Tim Hortons, clocking about 46 hours per week and my new job at the Canada Post Office located inside Shoppers Drug Mart, as a postal clerk. These past few weeks have been insane and it doesn't particularly help that I now have an entire textbook of knowledge that is required for me to be able to reproduce at any given time. Some how I've been able to scrape together a makeshift work ethic in a very short period of time, but its only a cheap splint.

Ah well.

I guess my big problem at the moment is just that I'm very tired. All of the time. It makes for a very unpleasent, short-tempered Ryan, also a very uncreative one at that. Perhaps I'm comparing myself unjustly, therefore jading and tarnishing my "art" before even writing it, but I have a definate problem with the way my poetry flows. It all gives the impression of being too forced, over exaggerated emotion. As if I'm placing too much emphasis on sounding a specific way, that my words are erected like stone walls, rather then falling from my mind like a rythmic snowfall. However, this is me that is speaking, as such, I am probibly overanalyzing such things to such excessive extents that I'm already far past doomed.

Just as long as next week brings about better days, that's all I ask.