so, sitting here all hopped up on sugar and caffine, in cut off shorts, t-shirt, no socks, and a mission to not cut my hair. thinking about pizza for breakfast at 12:42. excited about eating my weight in gummi worms tomorrow. garfield books in my bathroom. an inabillity to spell, or use propper grammer. bills paid. 60 hour work weeks.  

im a 24 year old, hairy, tattoo'd, kid.  sweet.

is this a bad thing? am i living in some detached reality? rock shows, coffee, and summer vacation? i have many friends who can call themselves "professionals". i talk nonesense, music, and art, with coffeeshop people and make latte's. 

dont get me wrong, im not questioning the importance of what i do. im a part of an amazing comunity, and a special time in this city.

 but in 4 months i will be 25(lego's are a great gift by the way). and i feel like 25 is the "stop f'ing around" age.

but maby im wrong, and maby its all about what you love.

me!

my name by niceone, a chi street artist. fresh.

stills from a distant past.

i ran across all the still pictures from carls old  birthday video we made a few years back. the pictures take me back to a time that i miss, the people, the shows, the person i was. this last week i've been thinking about that person alot. as much as i like what im doing and who i am. i miss the energy i had, i feel like i smiled bigger, longer. life was too good to worry, too fun to not be reckless. it was never a struggle to be happy. now i feel i work to hard for that happyness, that used to just flow. but none the less, thies pictures still make me smile. if you are in one, x's and o's. you are missed.

at least once a month someone has a "secret" that sums up how i feel now in chicago.

postsecret

i know i post alot about my job. but when 12 hour days make you happy-its worth bring'en up from time to time.