many of you i will never see again

time, for a jerk like me, is not a smooth, linear narrative

it is a strange, stuttering, backfiring, broken thing which flings me from one alien fragment to the next with no explanation as to how i got there or why

for maybe the ten-thousandth time in my life, i just went through my address book looking for a friendly name, and finding no one, turned off the light and found a place to sit in the dark

tonight at a bar i saw what i always see: a bunch of narcissists making out with people who look just like themselves

most of the time i respect objects which are good and useful

but other times i have this intense distrust or aversion to inanimate things because they are not alive

hah!!

i can’t tell you how many times a strange-looking man has biked by me muttering something unintelligible but undeniably evil

“. . . I had gone to no such place but to the smoke of cafés and nights when the room whirled and you needed to look at the wall to make it stop, nights in bed, drunk, when you knew that that was all there was, and the strange excitement of waking up and not knowing who it was with you, and the world all unreal in the dark and so exciting that you must resume again unknowing and not caring in the night, sure that this was all and all and all and not caring.”

(a farewell to arms)

I’m in New Orleans

if i were to somehow recall every single stupid thing i have ever written or said to someone i might actually die of embarrassment

the last human alive is going to be some inbred halfwit sitting alone in the ruins of a football stadium trying to figure out how to fuck a toaster