Long. empty. fucking. nights. No problem in the day, in the sun. But at night, nothing but longing nostalgia. Give me back my beautiful prison. The turba mentale daydreams, glasses of wine, sunset upon sunset. Take me back to San Servolo. Leave me with the cats. Nothing made sense on San Servolo, and it was gorgeous. In Durham, the insanity is ( Read more... )

February is the month to figure my life out.

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck ( Read more... )

Once, years ago, there was a dream. The dream was fiery and pure, and I believed in it uncompromisingly. How could I not? The dream was uncorrupted; it lit the way and by it, in its red-hot reflection, I knew who I was ( Read more... )

November's excuses will no longer suffice; it's December now, just barely, and we'll have to find new reasons for why things are going wrong. Not that they are, specifically. This is more of a spectral thing, the haze of events colluding on a still slightly distant horizon of vaguely defined Trouble. This is a mete-or-astrologica-nominal thing, a ( Read more... )

The stars have fallen, the constellations strung loosely together have come undone, they've flown apart, the end is near. The gift is gone; I will never spin gold from straw again, never spin literary fancy from the boring strands of quotidian works. I'm done, undone, a sham, a lie ( Read more... )

I realized today that it's a popular habit of this generation to self-diagnose, jokingly, with various mental disorders, which becomes a shield for "I don't want to have to deal with life." Top three disorders a college student will joke about having ( Read more... )

One day, in a fit of boredom, I began enumerating to Hilary various axioms I hold regarding food. She found this a profound source of wisdom, and in light of my success at weight loss, told me that I should write some kind of book about diet and exercise. Well, a livejournal post is practically the same thing as a book, only hopefully not as long ( Read more... )

It's time to tell some lies. And to not answer the boring questions ( Read more... )

Every so often, I must sign onto this account to assure myself that I remember its password, because saving passwords is for chumps who will get crushed underfoot when robots enact the New World Order. Once signed in, I might as well make a poasty-post, because it's fabled that I do that, every so often ( Read more... )