i’m sure every roommate i’ve ever had has overheard me say to my cat: “what the hell are we going to do, dante?”

lord, remember how obi-wan senses millions of voices crying out in terror

yeah, whoa, that’s what this feels like, except the “suddenly silenced” part never comes

man a war that used to take ten years could be accomplished overnight with a few missiles

so many people, and they all want dignity i’ll bet

so much instability and an uncertain bloody future

men with guns and no one to stop them


i really am sorry that i come off so aggressively negative

i just can’t be passive about it is all

isn’t that what everyone else does?

why oh why didn’t i take the blue pill, et cetera

I need to figure out a phrase that sums up the catastrophe of whatever the hell all this is, and make it as punchy and to the point as “Soylent Green is people!”—and then scream it from the rooftops before the shadow agents finally take me down (surely I have ended up on some sort of watch list)

Why can’t they see? Am I alone in feeling this way?

Man the Nazi boxcar of the 21st century is invisible though, isn’t it . . . and that is why it’s impossible to get your hands on it, or really begin to understand what it even is

Because it is a million things, maybe more, and nearly all of it is poisonous and awful

I feel lost inside my mind and inside the world and for God’s sake I am not being poetic about it, I mean it literally

Often I say things, sometimes phrased softly and other times not, and I am terrified when I am met with indifference or lately just these sort of “Huh? Oh . . . yeah. . . .” moments and then a fade to a familiar lost gaze

There is nothing anyone can do so maybe that is the only reasonable response I can expect anymore

I can’t relate to another single human being outside of a woman who is shut up alone in her Chicago apartment dealing with her own insurmountable anguish

Every day I can feel it, really feel it, that I am getting further and further away from relating to anyone on even a basic level

I don’t care about myself or where I’ll end up . . . it seems so silly to me

My plan is flimsy but all I know is that I need to get away and stay away and never come back

i want my “dreams to come true” but i also don’t want to ever compromise whatever sorry excuse for integrity that i have maybe deluded myself into thinking i possess????

He woke once more to external reality, looked round him, knew what he saw—knew it, with a sinking sense of horror and disgust, for the recurrent delirium of his days and nights, the nightmare of swarming indistinguishable sameness.

wow, you said it, aldous huxley

He was like a man pursued, but pursued by enemies he does not wish to see, lest they should seem more hostile than he supposed, and he himself be made to feel guiltier and even more hopelessly alone.

“Yes, I thought it was wonderful,” he lied and looked away; the sight of her transfigured face was at once an accusation and an ironical reminder of his own separateness. He was as miserably isolated now as he had been when the service began—more isolated by reason of his unreplenished emptiness, his dead satiety. Separate and unatoned, while the others were being fused into the Greater Being; alone even in Morgana’s embrace—much more alone, indeed, more hopelessly himself than he had ever been in his life before. He had emerged from that crimson twilight into the common electric glare with a self-consciousness intensified to the pitch of agony. He was utterly miserable, and perhaps (her shining eyes accused him), perhaps it was his own fault.