She is the kind of girl that unknowingly inspires songs. She is one of those personalities that will be solidified and made infinite through art, through the adoring glances of thousands of lovers. She has messy hair, a messy life. I step over mountains of clothing, discarded objects. She is living life too quickly to notice the run-off. She was ( Read more... )

Reading Henry Miller fanatically, jumping from one novel to the other when a passage leaves me dry, fills me up. I am in a period of gluttony; I am gorging myself on literature and paintings and experience and conversation. I am amassing fuel, having flashbacks to that night in the dark bar when I had that one epiphany-- you remember, don't you? ( Read more... )

Walls are red.
My eyes hurt.
This is something like a growth spurt.

Written and saved several days ago: I obviously can't drink and listen to music that you've given me, because I do nothing but ponder the unsolvable question of you+me for hours, to no avail, because there are no answers to questions that have never been asked ( Read more... )

The ancient tradition that the world will be consumed in fire at the ( Read more... )

When the chips are down:


( Read more... )

For 30 days, I am not going to write about myself. I am only going to write about other people.

I just can't handle introspection, anymore. It's become a disease.

I've been thinking all sorts of intelligent and beautiful things today, but I've actively avoided writing any of them down.

A mix for you all to enjoy:

Some Shit That Rocks

When people ask me, "How are you?" I can only wish that they really meant it. Because when people ask that, they are doing so out of social obligation. No one really wants to hear how you REALLY are. It's all nicety, posturing, platitudes. I am dying for someone to ask, to really care ( Read more... )

I could really use a little bit of optimism these days.