every time i get close to living some sort of normal life, it is either taken away from me or i find some way to sabotage it myself. i think i just need to stop trying to have one of those lives. there’s no way it’s ever going to work for me. and no one is going to let themselves get close to me because of that. i need to take the restrictor plate off and go full-blown can’t-relate-to-anyone weirdo, or just disappear. or have them follow in that order. who am i kidding, asking girls out and applying for writing gigs and putting down security deposits. world ain’t got nothing for me, man. it’s a shame but it’s the truth.

look i know this is something they probably put on yoga posters

but after the boston marathon bombing a few years back, i emailed my master in boston and asked him if he was ok

he said he’d been a block away from the blast but was alive

i remember he ended his email with that cool rumi quote:

‘the wound is the place where the light enters you’

i don’t care, i like that.

herman melville: you are my spirit brother, and i hope you are just fine in The Other Place, because i have bad news, my brother: earth is a whole hell of a lot worse than it was when you sat down in a cheerless fireless room 165 years ago and wrote the only damn thing that truly makes sense to us cripplingly perceptive orphans who are damned most subtly and most malignantly!!!!

RYAN STARSAILOR
☆ミ
1988–2017
DAMNED,
MOST SUBTLY
AND MOST MALIGNANTLY!

RYAN STARSAILOR
☆ミ
1988–2016
HE LACKED THE LOW,
ENJOYING POWER

i am going to start a doomsday cult and we will live in the woods in a tiny village of russian dachas and worship abstract things like time and four-dimensional objects

and when it is time to meet our end and return home with the reaper, we will sail across the starless sky in a flaming black zeppelin on which is crudely painted a laughing skeleton

put me in charge of something

i’ll oversee something

truly: i am incorruptible

i may be a childish sadsack moron but at least i have integrity

i really don’t want to go to austin anymore

maybe i won’t

i can’t see the lines i used to think i could read between

Dry heat upon my brow! Oh! time was, when as the sunrise nobly spurred me, so the sunset soothed. No more. This lovely light, it lights not me; all loveliness is anguish to me, since I can ne’er enjoy. Gifted with this high perception, I lack the low, enjoying power; damned, most subtly and most malignantly! damned in the midst of Paradise! Good-night—good-night!

The path to my fixed purpose is laid with iron rails, whereon my soul is grooved to run. Over unsounded gorges, through the rifled hearts of mountains, under torrents’ beds, unerringly I rush! Naught’s an obstacle, naught’s an angle to the iron way!

sweet lord yes

make sure to put the first one on my tombstone

in fact don’t add my name or birth / death years

just that