Umpteenth blog entry of the weekend … Early A.M. … I’ve realized that every time I sleep I lose like eight hours and that’s a whole workday so I’m never going to sleep again … Up and down, terse and verbose, I’m all over the place this week, I swing like a pendulum, I’m losing it … If you’re gonna be this pretentious, you’d better have pink hair … Everybody is somebody else, nobody is you … If I think about anything I’ll just be sad again so I can’t think at all …
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§ 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.)