Sometimes I miss my stalkers
Hah!
Maybe I’m serious
Maybe I wasn’t joking!
My next novel is going to be called “Get Me to the Suicide Tent”
If you ever want to have a really fuckin wild time in bed, all you need is
- a pair of earplugs
- a sleep mask
- 5 mg. of melatonin
Put all that stuff in / on your body, lay down someplace safe, and get ready for a psychedelic fever dream you’ll probably regret in the morning!!!
Tonight I am going to practice being an adult and drink wine out of a god damn coffee cup like you’re supposed to instead of straight from the bottle
Wish me luck, my starchildren!!!!
Every time I watch an old movie, or read an old book, I feel like we’ve all been ripped off big time—because there ain’t no real people no more, not many anyway, and it really did seem like there used to be a whole lot more.
What happened?
Advertising, I guess. The ubiquity of . . . whatever this is.
They got real good at crunching those numbers.
Jesus. I’m going to sleep.
Havin me a Good Old Time™ over here
No idea of retribution or punishment. Just exchange of values. You gave up something and got something else. Or you worked for something. You paid some way for everything that was any good. I paid my way into enough things that I liked, so that I had a good time. Either you paid by learning about them, or by experience, or by taking chances, or by money. Enjoying living was learning to get your money’s worth and knowing when you had it. You could get your money’s worth. The world was a good place to buy in. It seemed like a fine philosophy. In five years, I thought, it will seem just as silly as all the other fine philosophies I’ve had.
Perhaps that wasn’t true, though. Perhaps as you went along you did learn something. I did not care what it was all about. All I wanted to know was how to live in it. Maybe if you found out how to live in it you learned that what it was all about.
he was born / he suffered / he died
Most of my time is spent wondering how I should spend my time
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