The night started with building a playlist for my funeral.  I stayed up late on Saturday night and I tend to think about death on hangover days.  I'm not planning to die anytime soon, this is just a list of songs I'd consider to be played for folks who knew me to an extent.  That was the intent, at least.  It's turned into playing songs that make ( Read more... )

I seem to have a penchant for self-abuse.  Listening to music from past lives is like scraping my skin with a scalpel, feeling for the vibrations of scar tissue.  I suck my breath upon discovery.  I hold it in and press into the old wound.  The old shivers come back for the ten year reunion.

I love old friends.

Why are flirty girls so surprised when things get confusing?

It's comforting to know that even though I'm not able to maintain a relationship for myself, I can provide helpful and perhaps insightful advice to friends.

I'm tired of dealing with the self-absorbed. I recognize the potential for irony in saying that I deserve better. I need to find a workaround for this damn shyness. It is just a fear that I'm ( Read more... )

In case you were wondering if there was ever a correct response, here it is ( Read more... )

Hungover, tired, drunk, and morose.

If at first you don't succeed, try, try again until you realize it's best just to cut your losses and find something better to do.

Why am I in Death Cab mood? Old Death Cab. Have I beaten depression, or just numbed myself with distractions?

I should sleep.

"Then I walked you home and it was pretty clear that it was hardly love."

I think my social circle is becoming too large and diverse to handle graciously.

When I'm a gruff old man, I can definitely see myself saying "I was in love once. It was the most god damned foolish thing I ever did."