I don’t think I could ever die of a broken heart, but I could see myself dying of a broken brain

When I am alone at night I sometimes start to think about What Used To Happen, mostly accidentally, my mind just wanders there . . . and at a certain point I have to consciously stop myself or else I’d die of shame right there at my desk

Anyone out there in starland wanna hug a lonely manic-depressive 27-year-old man who catches and releases insects and who also slept on an elementary school playground in Rhode Island one time????

Someone call animal control ASAP cuz we got us a junkyard dog on the loose and I reckon he’s itchin to chew on some tires and roll around in his own excrement under a god dang full-ass moon

Someone put this poor creature out of his misery before he bites his own damn tail off in desperation

You crazy old bastard!!!

You twisted son of a bitch!!!!!

You filthy junkyard dog!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I wouldn’t mind living forever as long as I could be a huge-ass bird who could open doors and speak like five languages

Man, I tell you what, I would share my bed with any of my friends. I like sleeping next to Cool People.

(I have a really nice mattress that I bought on my twenty-sixth birthday and it sure is thick as hell. Before I got it I don’t think I had slept well in maybe two years.)

Anyway: if you feel rotten as hell or feel all right or . . . feel any way at all, really, other than nauseous, come on over and sleep three feet away from me if that’s what you want to do.

(Should I compile a list of people who have slept next to me and make it a page on this website? No— I should probably not do that. God, no. (Hmmmm~~ maybe.))

Today was strange. I did my delivery route in San Francisco / South Bay and didn’t listen to the radio or think about anything for hours. I just drove in silence. I barely remember anything that happened before 2 p.m.

It was overcast all day. For miles and miles there was a thick cover of grey clouds. People in the Bay Area are unused to this sort of weather. It makes them somber and quiet. I had a good time with it though. I felt calm, anyway.

My boss told me that’s the last time I’ll have to drive. That’s good. I was getting really burned out.

There is a barista in Palo Alto I’ll never see again I guess. She had red hair and pale skin and tattoos. Man. She was cool.

Yeah.