Oh my god I feel shitty.
Still can’t sleep.
No matter, I have to be to work soon anyway.
The inside of my mind is this maze of memories I can’t touch without hurting.
The longer I live, the worse it gets.
—
She asked me, recently, why I was always suffering. It’s funny, I’ve been asked that before, with as much irony.
Women are why I’m suffering. When I don’t care about them, I’m fine.
It’s like this roller coaster of highs and lows that I just can’t take.
§ 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.)