should i just get it over with and pick an addiction already

i mean who am i kidding here, really

should it be codeine

is it going to be codeine

codeine, as my old buddy townes van zandt tells us, is a good buddy to have

he don’t drink or steal or cheat or lie, you know

codeine that is

it is 10 god-hating degrees outside.

fuck

Laura took this during my final days at Donut Farm. I also think it is the only picture of me in Donut Farm in existence. Man! I don’t miss being broke all the time, or talking to gluten-free yoga moms, but that place was real cool for a time. I was managing it for awhile. I was herding a bunch of teenagers! I think they’re all dead now (just kidding (probably)).

my daily efforts on The Great Work continue

cc: alex h. in boston

my friends are mostly younger than me. i like them. they are good people. they’re down for stuff, which older people tend not to be. people my age always say they’re too tired / too depressed / have to go home to the boring person they’re sleeping with. and it’s like, yeah man. that’s everyone. but you can still do stuff (and maybe it would make you feel better about all that other crap).

anyway: you know what! i really enjoy the sort of big brotherly / avuncular thing i sometimes find myself in. when someone comes to me and admits their fears or whatever, and i get to say, “ah, well. . . .” and then a bunch of vague crap about shit falling into place sometimes eventually. i mean it’s not untrue. it’s sincere. then: “aw hell come on. enough of that for now. let’s go walk around with some shit wine i bought from the gas station.”

i don’t want to sound mean, and maybe this is dumb

but sometimes i look at how someone smiles in a picture and i think “yeah we wouldn’t like each other (you definitely wouldn’t like me)”

Every time I am forced to leave the house out of necessity I am reminded of what a piece of shit city this is. I get so many glares from people who look at me like I’m a bag of fucking garbage. No one is friendly, no one says hello, they all look miserable. They live these closed-in hateful lives where no good thing grows.

“every night i tell myself i am the cosmos / i am the wind / but that don’t get you back again”

“i’d really like to see you again / i really wanna see you again / i never wanna see you again / i’d really like to see you again”

“i walk the streets / i’m all alone / i just can’t think / what i’ve been doing wrong”

“i know you’re mine / he treats you nice / it’s suicide / i know, i tried it twice”

this album, man

RIP chris bell, a real dude in a rotten world

dirty dishes