I’ve brought this up before, but I hope you realize that most of the things you read on the internet (or, hell, anywhere) are polished and bleached and sanitized. Everything is Safe and Easy and Painless. It’s pretty gross! I just wanted to remind you once again that, for good or ill (probably mostly for ill), I don’t do that. I’m not trying to sell you anything—not a vacuum cleaner, not aluminum siding, not even an ideology! Most of the time I don’t even know what I’m saying, to be honest.

I mean, seriously, look at all the trash I’ve published on the internet. It has made me absolutely unemployable and undateable. And I don’t even care! Sometimes I reread the stuff I write in the middle of the night, and I cringe a little, but I let it be. It was real when I hit “publish,” so that’s how it’s gotta be.

I do it for you, baby!!!

LIFE; or, “I’m Running Out of Ways to Fill The Hours”

I turned the corner and fell to the ground near a stone wall. I sat up and held my knees close to my chest and started to cry. It was late and there were no cars on the street and no one walking down the sidewalk. I don’t know how long I sat there. I stood up and walked toward the skyscrapers by the bay to find my way home. On a dark street I called my father and told him he was one of the few real friends I have left. At home I passed out in my clothes and didn’t wake up until thirteen hours later.

The Twin Peaks theme song, for whatever reason, is like mind balm to me

[fictional character] only made me feel OK about myself for [X] hours

i am very tired and i miss my friends, whoever they are anymore

Every time I buy a red onion, Laura says, “Ugh! You are such a bachelor!”

And I say, “Well!”

My heroes are Herman Melville, Orson Welles, and Bugs Bunny

“Just so you know, I’m not wearing a bra, and I’m wearing men’s underwear.”

“Well, that makes two of us then.”