They say not to post all of this stuff on your blog, much less under your real name.
Only I can’t see stopping being a person just because it’s more convenient for the economy.
I can’t believe other people do.

They say not to post all of this stuff on your blog, much less under your real name.
Only I can’t see stopping being a person just because it’s more convenient for the economy.
I can’t believe other people do.
Okay, so something is off. I’m sitting here and I should be frenetically working or enthusiastic as hell or at least scared or lonely or whatever, but instead I’m blank. I’m blank and slightly down and have the deep sense somewhere underneath the floorboards that I’m wasting time, but I can’t quite see my way through the spider webs to do anything about it.
No doubt this is where the doc prescribes prozac or ritalin or something, except that there is no doc and really drugs shouldn’t be enough anyway, I mean there should generally be something underlying your life, shouldn’t there?
I’m entering my third decade of about six or seven. I’m about to go back to school but I’m not quite sure why, except that it’s the best idea I’ve had so far in a very large universe of rather desperately flat ideas.
I don’t feel empty or sad so much as absolutely spiritually and inspirationally bankrupt, like there really is a soul train only I took it to the mall instead of to Africa, and now there’s nothing left to do but watch Jake & the Fat Man and eat veggie burgers out of cardboard boxes.
All of this despite my determination not to buy in & sell out.
Everyone’s pissed off at me or at least frustrated and bored with me, and really I just don’t care.
Blank.
Eh.
—
I feel like a cynical American.
I feel like I’ve never seen anything that wasn’t a pose.
I feel like nobody’s qualified.
“Qualified for what?”
I don’t know. F—. Qualified for anything.
Days ago news came down the pipe that the tropical zone around the equator has expanded north and south by over a hundred miles, meaning that Salt Lake City is now on the verge of being categorized a sub-tropical zone by temperature and precipitation statistics.
And it has been hotter in recent years, with less wintertime snow, than I remember as a child. On the other hand, we’re also getting more instances of weird weather. Like today… it’s cold and it’s raining, and the weather people are saying the snow line is going to be around 6,000 feet, which means that we may have snow on the east side… at the end of May…
Oh well, whatever. The scent of the weather is incredible and to be enjoyed, regardless.
§ 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.)