Huh. I’m older now.

Today’s the day I turn twenty-one.

. . . and each year, I grow more and more cynical.

Pessimistic, too. Maybe it comes with adulthood. When I was a wee lad, I used to dream of writing grand adventures, and playin’ games in gross excess. Well, what I do now isn’t far from what I aspired to be. I don’t make a livin’ doing what I want to do, but we all start somewhere. I’m following my dreams, but I don’t feel fulfilled. I think. . . the day I wake with no obligation other than being me, I might find fulfillment. When the bills are paid by my personal, creative pursuits, maybe then I’ll find peace in my life. I’m sure the lot o’ ya get tired of me begging for money (and speaking of which, Patreon anybody. . . ?)

It was an everyday kind of day, save for a few boo-boos.

Just what I wanted. I woke up earlier than I wanted, physically burnt and mentally whack. I slept in as late as I could, before I knew I’d have to get up (or risk bein’ late at work). I got up, shaved and showered. I sat on the floor, my trusty Alienware beside me. I installed a few new games, intent on reviewing them before leaving for work. I didn’t have the creative drive to write. I left for work, bought some snacky snacks. I gorged on chicken, fries, a shake and a lemonade (with cold brew) concoction. The day was busier than normal, and I took off few bits of skin from my arm. I walked in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I caught some oil (fresh from the fryers) in my elbow. I walked home, beneath watery clouds, living in my head. I pondered about characters I wrote many years ago, back in grade-school. After getting home, I opened some presents and gorged on more chicken (with rice).

Overall, it was an okay day.

I don’t like parties, and I don’t like attention. I don’t want cake or presents. I’ve reached a point in my life where. . . all I want is security. I want to know that when I wake up, there’ll be a food on the table and a roof over my head (with internet included). I have a computer, and I have paper ‘n pens. What more can I ask for? I’m set. I’m an artist and a gamer, and everythin’ I need is at my fingertips. The older I become, the more I desire solitude and time to write. I spend more time creating content than working a “real” job and sleeping combined. Each day, I hone my creative blade, striving to produce new and improved content. But at the end of the day, I find myself somewhere I don’t want to be. Bills don’t pay themselves, now do they?

But I have plans!

I have so, so many things I want to create. Of course, the Wombat Trap remains an always priority. There’s hundreds of reviews I want to write. I want to create videos, video reviews and comedic skits. When I was a young’n, I used to create stop-motion videos. Oh, how I’ve dreamed of pursuing stop-motion videos once more. Everyday my head boils with new ideas and stories, and I want to share them all with you guys. There’s games I want to make (and one I’m actively working on), and things I want to draw. As a twenty-one year old, you can expect me to continue working on what I’ve been doin’ as a twenty-year old. Someday, I hope that I’ll be your full-time, friendly wombat frien‘. Just. . . imagine that! Creating content everyday, all day. Most people would consider that hell.

That’s what I really want for my birthday.

Did you actually read this far?

. . . you must really have nothing better to do. Scoot!