THE HOMERIC DEAD
ARE PATHETIC IN THEIR HELPLESSNESS,
INHABITING DRAUGHTY, ECHOING HALLS,
DEPRIVED OF THEIR WITS,
AND FLITTING PURPOSELESSLY ABOUT
UTTERING BATLIKE NOISES.
just for the hell of it, i dyed my hair blue-black
i had not done this in a long time, and i had only done it twice before
maybe it’s been ten years or more since i dyed my hair
well i’m realizing why: there’s no point in going darker, because i can’t tell the difference at all
i guess my hair was already dark enough
god knows my brain is!!!
welcome to my soggy hovel at the end of the world! and look! everything written here is a testament to my own cracked mental state, and is a constant source of embarrassment for everyone involved. though hey: it could be worse. if i keep writing long enough, i'll bet i could make it all get much worse. yes, i'm sure i could. and here's the thing: that's ok with me. what else am i gonna do? buy a house??
o! sweet spirit! when does the horror of human life end? when does the Big Machine shut down once and for all? when are there no more of us in existence to suffer through this long dark dream? when does earth, now rid of us, sigh and repair itself and get the hell on with it???
does it happen soon? does it ever?
will one last ragged toothless human being ride this choked planet like a carnival ride as it is swallowed up by the dead sun?
ok dude seeya later
what can i say???
CMW: if you still read this trash, i don’t know. you told me a long time ago that it made you sad and you had to stop. but that sometimes you get drunk and look at it anyway. i was thinking about it and man, we’re definitely never going to see each other again, huh? maybe that’s OK. i have no idea. anyway: i like you a lot, but it really is OK if that’s the case. yeah.
She had figured out that the most pervasive American disease was loneliness, and that even people at the top often suffered from it, and that they could be surprisingly responsive to attractive strangers who were friendly.
On Sundays I have a Secret Ritual at an Undisclosed Diner near my house. We go around noon or so and get huge dumb cups of coffee and have ourselves a good ol time. I’m working my way through all the vegetarian stuff on the menu. Today I had some wrap-ass thing with cream cheese. Man, it ruled.
My friend Matt claims that as I was paying my bill at the front, the woman behind at the cash register turned to him and made a face because I had said that people who drink malted milkshakes probably also like kettle corn—both of which are pretty gross. He said when I said that her eyes got big in a sort of “Are you really hanging out with this idiot?” way. I thought that was funny as hell.
Afterwards we all drove to San Francisco’s Japantown. We ran around and laughed like hell. In a place like that, what else can you really do with yourself? I looked at stuff, I scoffed at stuff, I loved some stuff a whole lot. There were also a lot of babes, OK~
Also: I bought a bunch of stickers. All right? If I regularly send you letters, hold onto your butts, because you’re gonna start seeing these little buddies on your envelopes:
Which one of you fools is getting that huge orange bear-thing? Or the red-cheeked raccoon? Check your mailbox and find out I guess!!