I get to feeling like this and I have to steer myself away from the weird comfort of self-destruction. I would have made a great Shakespeare character. I would have been the haunted idiot.
a good way to tell someone that, if they love you, all they gotta do is come and get you:
“i’ll leave the keys in the ignition. you can drive it right off the lot.”
ugh don’t tell anyone i made another one of these damn things
i am only putting up videos i make ok so leave me alone about it!!
Number of jobs had: 16
Number of houses lived in: 14
Number of cars owned: 3
Number of girlfriendz (who probably hate me): 4
Number of people dated: oh boy
Number of times witnessed dead guy hanging from a tree: 1
Number of times when all hope was lost: haha oh lord
‘Takiyasha the Witch and the Skeleton Spectre,’ Utagawa Kuniyoshi
Posting this again because it rules
I like Stanley Kubrick. I like the films he made when he was alive. I never, ever want to have a conversation about them with someone who tucks their shirt in—or maybe with anyone at all.
Similarly: At the New Year’s party I was at the other night, I quickly exited the room when a bunch of people who get their hair cut once a week started talking about the new ‘Star Wars.’ What little I did hear sounded like it was regurgitated from a Huffington Post article and it made me really sad.
At 11 a.m. on New Year’s Day I opened my eyes. My eyes had been closed because the sun was up and the room was bright. I had not slept the night before. I had been lying on the couch at my grandmother’s condo. I was alone. She doesn’t live there anymore.
I stood up. I made a pot of tea. I filled the bathtub with hot water. I sank into the water until I could only use my nose to breathe. My laptop was resting on the closed toilet seat nearby. ‘Return of the Jedi’ was playing. I watched the whole movie from the bath. The water got tepid. I got out.
At sundown I got in my grandmother’s car and drove through the countryside. I was listening to Big Star. I drove all over the place. I drove past all the houses I’d ever lived in in Virginia.
Outside it was very cold. I parked on a gravel road near my childhood home. I thought about walking through the empty cornfields. When I got out of the car I realized it was too cold. I wasn’t wearing my thermals. I got back in the car. I drove down dark silent streets surrounded by dark silent trees. I wondered where everyone had gone off to.
I stopped at a grocery store and bought a loaf of bread, two bottles of cheap champagne, and a jug of orange juice. The orange juice had pulp in it because I think it’s creepy not to drink pulp. When I got to the register I placed everything on the conveyor belt. I said to the cashier, “This is what I have become.” I told her I was going to make mimosas and sit by a fire. She laughed and said that sounded perfectly nice to her.
I drove back to my grandmother’s condo. Dante was asleep on a chair near the fireplace. I opened the flue. I crumpled some paper and placed it beneath a log. I lit the paper on fire. The paper burned. The fireplace was illuminated. I went into the kitchen and mixed orange juice with champagne. I sat down by the fire and got drunk. I read a book. I tried to sleep. I couldn’t sleep. I thought about someone far away.
this is me when i was a little kid
this is also me for the rest of my life if you know what i mean
I have no real marketable skills, but at least I don’t breathe heavily or walk around with my mouth open.
frans masereel
