life fscking sucks
wohoo

There is no fscking downfall and there is no fscking salvation. There’s just more of the same tomorrow.
Whatever happened to 1995?
This forum for communication… isn’t any longer. I don’t have a solution.
Not so long ago I remember being stuck in Brookings on Highway 101, watching the overhead fan spin and spin and… now I’m here in Chicago, headed soon for Salt Lake City.
What the fsck does anything mean? Fscking hell.
There is no connection between me & anything else, no connection, no connection, no connection. I am a miasmatic, I am autausmatic, I am plebematic.
Things burn.
Things burn.
Things burn.
§ 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.)