02 November 2017



this may come as a surprise to you, but i listen to everything you say and i remember all of it

i remember the little things in your room and in your car and i remember the little things you do with your hair and your lips and your hands and shit like that

i remember the little things you mentioned in stories and in letters! i remember what you were wearing on certain days

the little things stay inside my brain long after the person who put them there has gone. my brain is a haunted house of little tiny baby remembered things!!

maybe it is killing me! to remember all these things! my brain has begun to look like the treasure room in xanadu from ‘citizen kane’:

where do i put my things? why don’t my things matter to me??? maybe i have appraised them as worthless (they are)


(footnote: you, in this instance = second person pronoun. ex-girlfriend(s): relax! i’m talking to everyone!!)

02 November 2017

can we all agree that the worst part about instagram is when someone you’re following goes on vacation

01 November 2017

of all the possible realities / universes / dimensions / planes of existence that we could have ended up in, why is this the one

it’s the only one we know of, anyway

maybe the rest of them are far away or invisible to us

maybe they were destroyed

this place is a godawful hell, man

and i’m stuck here until i die

it’s not as though i can get on a spaceship and fly to a planet where the people (or whatever) there don’t kill each other all the time

maybe they would even have a pill or a vaccine or a hypnosis machine that could fix my head lol

01 November 2017


Tracey made soup:

I put on A COOL ALBUM:

Laura and I walked Dante in the dark:

. . . and then we watched ‘THE THING’ (1982). It ruled. Duh.

OK byE~