What more can I say?
Strange. Life is strange.
I’m sitting here at midnight in Salt Lake City once again on a Sunday night. I’m one of those people who always keeps on running. No matter where I am, it’s never quite the right place. I’m one of those people who will be homeless forever.
I’m gonna go read social theory. I like social theory.
§ 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.)