So it's three ten in the morning on chirstmas day and I find myself much the same as I've found myself for the past several weeks, completely unable to even attempt sleep. And the past couple of days I've been afraid to leave my house before noon, even when awake long before then. And my writing has been happening in such unbelievably odd spurts ( Read more... )

I think I'm having some kind of dumb existential crisis. Boo.

I dunno, sometimes I just don't want to exist. Whatever.

Sleep is harder to come by than usual.

Maybe I need to start writing more again.

Or maybe I should try to get into a relationship with a girl again.

It's been a while.

Not like it would help.

This is dumb.

I was walking up a sand drive way, and it turned into mattresses, and the mattresses were falling and I was with Nate, then we stacked the falling mattresses.
This is it.
This is my dumb head.
These dreams terrify me.

It is four fifty seven in the morning, I am listening to music, and writing a paper. Brennan, I found out why I don't believe in objectivism, it's because I have yet to come to the belief that humans all want the same thing. Or rather, if they do want the same thing, it's manifested in ways so completely incompatible it seems illfitting to call ( Read more... )

She dances to 80s music.
She wears spandex.
She doesn't seem to care what others think.
She thinks I'm cool?
She is weird.
She is fun.
She would like an adventure.
And I like her.
She has a boyfriend.
I am lame.
I don't like this.
-Random note found on the side of Broad Street.

I am sitting in a briefing room of a resort with Brennan. There is a friendly woman explaining the use of a couple of instruments to us. She is telling us how to operate a couple of flying machines, a couple of machines we'll attach to our backs. She is gorgeous, she is the Madonna, she is the fine arches of cheeks and quiet eyes. She finishes ( Read more... )

She, slanking slowly south
will take my palm
rub off the rougher edges
take off the broken skin
in the softness of
the space between
her neck and chin.
And she, will glow
will grow
will sow
will low
will go
will tow
will know.
Yes- -that is it.
She, will know.
And I will know it is love
because I will feel it
in the space
underneath my arm.

Nothing left to do but pack this up. Nothing left to do but pack this up ( Read more... )

List of things to do in the New Year that are not necessarily resolutions but could seem as such to those who wish to categorize them as such ( Read more... )

I hate that stupid ball. It's fucking stupid. It's big and it's shiny and it descends a pole. We'd be better off with a stripper up there ( Read more... )