I am confused, lonely, bewildered. It’s hard to work but I’m doing it. I don’t quite know what’s the correct thing and what’s not, for anyone. I am following my nose, but that feels about as random as anything right now.

about how life works?

—

…tumble…

We on the outside, we prophets and idiots and malcontents, we have always been sand under saddle, problem to be dealt with, reason for discord, source of all problems.

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There is nothing but to wander the globe.

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Everything in its place and a place for everything.

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To make the set of places is to manufacture the universe.

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I don’t know. I feel today like I haven’t felt in quite a long time. I don’t know why. One never knows why one feels what one feels. One never understands quite what other people see in you when you are doing it. (Or indeed ever.) There is nothing in this universe to bring order to the inside of my head. There is nothing inside my head to bring order to the universe.

—

Everyone hurts. It’s a fucking REM song. I wish REM had never come into existence so that this could have been an original thought… although at the same time it was an REM song that made me feel better so many years ago…

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I.Q. 45 don’t drink don’t smoke what do you do

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I am late for work. I am late for success. I am late for a lot of things.

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I am trying my damnedest to love the people I love (two different verbs, one spelling, one sentence). Often I suck at it. Okay, no better or worse than anyone else.

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It’s a miracle there’s no nuclear winter.

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The greatest word in the English language is

“forget”

.