Taking over ( Read more... )

Failure is not a good color on me.

Right now every literally every cellular function in my body is operating at a strangely serene keening vibration at this body of thoughts. Between homework assignments, making the menu for the Bar-Mitzvah and teasing myself by Google-Earthing parts of Seattle, and Julie and Erica are sleeping on my couch and I'm in the chair in the dark and this ( Read more... )

Schools:
Category 1: No way, but it's nice to dream: Amhearst, Hampshire, Reed.
Category 2: Applications pending, either/or: New School (Greenwich Village), New School (Florida), UGA.
Category 3: I'm In: Evergreen

We shall see.

This is the story of my grandfather’s death, but really it is about my grandmother’s death, eventually, and my father’s, inevitably. This all happened after my grandfather died, but before he taught us all about singularity and time travel. This all happened before my grandmother died, but after she stopped baking cookies. Above all, this is a ( Read more... )

...I really really want to be a good person, and not hurt other people. I really want to be happy again, not always standing half in some torrential blaze. I want to look into someones eyes. I want to be able to sleep and to wake and for there to be deliberate distinction between them. I want to be able to believe in a future.

Thats all.

This has been a transitional week, to pare it down to the cream filling. I have flirted with seratonin waves and met many new people that I'm tickled to call friends. I reconnected and deepened previous friendships in the most novel ways, including but not limited to the old X-Men arcade game from the late eighties (please tell me everyone ( Read more... )

Out of the blue, into the black.
I like it.

I pray its simply the weather. Lately, a very disconcerting fog/haze/rain, about twenty degrees colder than should be. It's summertime in the beautiful South. All I know is, I went from feeling like distilled silver itself to feeling like the greenish-gray lumps simmering and stinking in the sink. I haven't been to my apartment for a week. I feel ( Read more... )

It is virtually a mandate that certain classifications of event cause you to become retro-nostalgic. The death of a pet, the loss of a loved one, the leaving of an oft-despised or oft-lauded job after several years...and the removal of one's cock ring. Yes, my little halo is gone, leaving only a nest of (temporary, goddammit) scar tissue and the oh ( Read more... )