I'm not dead. But I might as well be. Truth told, I just don't have much time for the internet anymore. I work six days a week while still trying to find time for love, travel and drum-n-bass. Oh, and drugs, my exceptionally favoured crutch, but even that's slowly slipping against the pull of... maturity? Something like it. That thing that comes ( Read more... )

( Fiction. )

I found myself walking across Eugene today, slightly overdressed (overblack?) for the humid, sunless weather. I remember coming to this city when I first moved to this part of the world, some ten years ago now, and being amazed by its vibrant energy. Here I found the "fucking hippies" my father had always bitched about, the scraggy mud-crusted ( Read more... )

Waste away, count the seconds like days
Self-destruct in a thousand ways
It's all okay, if I don't make it
I've faked it all before, I can take it
[I swear I can take it]

And everything bad
And everything good is
Just...

[a teardrop on my foot]

These lyrics [to a yet unwritten song] were bothering me, saying they needed to be let out. ( Read more... )

( Read more... )