I have spent a lot of time feeling bad in Los Angeles

At what point do I admit the whole thing is doomed to fail and give up

babydboy

The other day I was watching a movie and Dante sat down next to me on my bed and watched too

Last summer I drove to Berkeley and ate a bag of mushrooms beneath the campus clocktower. I walked around in the dark for hours, climbing on walls and trees and befriending stray cats. I even called my little sister and had a long conversation as the sun came up. It was really cool.

One memory sticks out more than any other: I remember wandering over to the library in the center of campus where they have newspapers from all over the world hung up in these plastic display frames. And as I stood there reading them, I thought, “Man. I really have absolutely no idea what’s going on anywhere.”

Today I realized this has not changed at all!

woop

I think Leila took this when she was here for my birthday

In all honesty I consider it an air-thin miracle that I wake up every morning and I’m still surrounded by four walls, or that when I turn on the faucet water pours out, or that when I flip a lightswitch the lights come on. And I don’t just mean that I pay my utilities— I mean it’s amazing to me that there is anything reliable at all in the universe. It is still a big miserable glued-and-duct-taped-together mass of chaos and dumb luck, but when a few things work it is a nice thing to me at least.

I’m probably only two or three months away from dressing like Tetsuo at the end of Akira for the rest of my life

For as the swift monster drags you deeper and deeper into the frantic shoal, you bid adieu to circumspect life and only exist in a delirious throb.

. . . and while ponderous planets of unwaning woe revolve round me, deep down and deep inland there I still bathe me in eternal mildness of joy.

This book was written 160 years ago and every time I read parts like this I want to scream because it’s about a billion times better than any of the cheap trash they expect us to relate to today