Woah, where did that week go?
Good intentions and firmly-set goals. What exactly where they good for again? Damned if I can figure it all out. I’m just petting a cat for comfort while everything spins around me like maniac Kansas around Dorothy. Where or when I will emerge I couldn’t say.
Some people my age are old already. Ha! Not me.
It is five o’clock in the f@$#ing morning.
§ As you get older, the ghosts become more real than anything else.
§ Under the leaves, soil. Under the soil, stone. Under the stone, souls.
§ Radically empowering individuals in society may be the worst mistake we ever made.
§ Want to be a radical? Refuse to suffer. Then, wait for the assault.
§ Goodbye 2017, part two. (The real part.)
§ Sometimes you find home where you’ve never been—and you dwell where you aren’t.
§ The self can’t play Atlas for postmodernity because science is now supernatural.
§ Rehab is universal. So is history.
§ Identity, transcendence, and tactics.
§ Untitled. (a.k.a. Pretty faces, new old photos.)