I’m not a prisoner to culture and will never be. Call me a terrorist or a weakling or a communist or a lunatic. I’m alive. I’m alive until I die, and then I’m dead. And people like this, people like me, are the most dangerous thing to any established order. Time will tell.
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Please, my friends: please never let me get involved with California people again. 🙁 I knew once, but apparently failed to learn my lesson, and I really need to be beaten into shape on this point.
§ 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.)