“We live in a world where War and Peace has already been written and yet people are reading Harry Potter.”

It’s possible that an entire generation can be completely rotten, yes? And that my getting along with someone my age is entirely dependent on how shielded they were/are from this twisted nightmare culture?


Even when I read the best literature, it does little to comfort me. In fact all it does is confirm and reinforce what I already know: the world fuckin’ blows, man.

Casper Lockett was fucking his robot secretary when the president called.

“Yes?” said Casper, still going at it.

“My god, man,” said the president. “What are you still doing there? Get the hell out of the city! Didn’t you hear the air raid sirens?”

“I’ll leave when I’m good and ready.”

“There’s no time. The bombs are set to go off in less than 20 minutes. You won’t escape the fallout unless you leave now.”

Casper hung up the phone and, with a handheld remote, dimmed the lights of his penthouse apartment.

“Who was that?” said Lisa, Casper’s robot secretary, whom he was still fucking.

“Just some jerk,” said Casper Lockett, pressing a button on the remote that would lower the shades.

I was looking for . . . something just now, I’m sure, when I was digging through archives of “stuff I’ve said to other people” in the last year, but I completely forgot what exactly that something was. And then I stumbled upon a conversation I had with a girl who loved me, I think it was back in May, and after going through the thing I was reminded of a period of my life I had somehow forgotten about. She had asked me, “What’s going on with you? Why do you become so strange at night?” For months I had been alone and was drinking in parks and not sleeping and exploring unlocked buildings at the UT campus while under the influence of various psychotropic substances. So I responded to her with, what I realize now, is a succinct explanation as to why year after year I just don’t feel any better about all of this:

“I can’t relate to anyone and I feel increasingly hopeless.”

So there it is! I guess I will file this away in the back of my brain.

These are the lame and meaningless voyages of Ryan Starsailor, the mad-cap loser who once slept on an elementary school playground in Rhode Island.

I will never

  • get married
  • have children
  • be cool

I will probably

  • die alone
  • die penniless
  • die young(ish)

I will definitely

  • die

Recently I decided I am fine with all of this, so hooray I guess