If you see something here that resonates with you, or makes you think that I’m a big fucking moron (or both!), please say hello because I would very much like to hear from you:

octonaut at gmail dot com

To the guy in Virginia who says that I am probably a bad influence on him: Did you know I am in Virginia? Man I gotta reply to your email. You wanna hang out or something? Please don’t kill me. (Wait—maybe do kill me.)

To the nice woman who writes to me from Belgium, and who has beautiful handwriting and good taste in stationary: Please know that I have responded to your letter (on crappy paper!) and will put it in the mail this week. ☆ミ

(To everyone else: If no one else will be your friend, then I will be your friend.)

amen brother

A video posted by ryan starsailor ☆ミ (@starpuncher) on Jan 11, 2016 at 6:05pm PST

kinda proud of this one ok

y’all keep going to your vapid parties, and playing with your dumbass pocket computers, and eating your fat-free yogurt, and watching your ukulele-and-bongo-music commercials, and buying your fake plastic crap that’s going to choke poor sweet planet earth and send us all to hell

i’ll be here in the mire wrestling with them big-ass monsters, and them big-ass demons

i won’t be fooled

you won’t fool me

i’d die of a broken heart before you got me in them big-ass chains

(lol)

I have been taking a little white pill every day for more than half a month, and now finally my mind if razor-sharp again. It was so broken and foggy before.

Here’s the thing: the pain I am feeling now is real, it is not in my head, and it hurts a whole god damn lot.

As long as they promised me Dante would be safely delivered to Laura Rokas in Oakland, California, I would face the firing squad tomorrow.

. . . how’s that for melodramatic!

Well but what if it’s true?

(well, in the tradition of this website sounding like it was written by a teenager. . . .)

whoa this song just came on:

“i’ve been out haunting the neighborhood / and everybody can see i’m no good / when i’m walking out between parked cars / with my head full of stars”

a few minutes later (oh my god i’m back in high school):

“i’m looking at a hand full of broken plans / and i’m tired of playing it down / you just want her to do anything to you / there ain’t nothing that you won’t allow”

(i am aware this song is kind of about heroin)

((the point remains. . . .))

On the way to the grocery store to buy booze I ran out of sidewalk and had to hop someone’s fence so I could get back into the residential neighborhood bordering the street. I noticed every turn along the straight path terminated at a cul-de-sac. The street was an endless corridor of dead ends. In a sort of noir detective voice I said aloud: “Well ain’t that fitting.”

I walked alone in the dark. The street lamps were dim. I don’t know why but a larger conversation that was going on in my head escaped from my mouth just then. I clenched my fists and said pretty loudly: “Motherfuckers!” A man was in his driveway getting something out of his car. I hadn’t seen him before. I saw him now as he stared at me in total bewilderment. I apologized. I told him I was having a rough time and kept walking.

 

As I neared the shopping center I saw a monstrous SUV parked on the street. I sneered at it. I had been sneering at everything. I tried to pick up the huge stupid vehicle so I could hurl it at a nearby house. It seemed like a reasonable thing to want to do at that moment. It ended up being way too heavy.

Instead I fell to my knees in the middle of the street. I looked up at the stars. I addressed whomever was listening:

“I am so tired. I can’t do this anymore. Please don’t make me do this anymore.”

You imagine a future for yourself, and it looks like Avalon or the Garden of Eden, but when you finally get there it is the lobby of a used-car lot and the coffee is cold and there’s a stick of fly tape dangling from the ceiling.