Most beautiful thing I ever saw: Golden Gate Park in the early morning fog on December 1st, 1999. Sadly, I couldn’t appreciate it then, and wouldn’t be able to until months later. Now I can appreciate it, though my memory of the experience is hazy.
Will I be there again soon?
Surreal and alone are the word(s) of the evening. (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.)