I get to see Eli tomorrow. (Sleepy eye and tired smile)
Gage, Cameron, good evening. Nice to see you gentlemen out and about this evening. I trust you are well.
I am unintentionally becoming nocturnal again. The good news i this time I am severely less depressed and mentally ill.
I crush her against me. I want to be part of her. Not just inside her but all around her. I want our rib cages to crack open and our hearts to migrate and merge. I want our cells to braid together like living thread.
Late night studying with this kid at Denny’s.
i can make fart noises with my hands.
Through language and myth, we signify the marginal.
Hitler was okay I guess.
quit stalin mao. i know you are just putin me on. i know trotsky is your favorite.
They look to me absolutely like lovers;
in the verve and fleetness of their sprint
you can see them running toward each other
inside themselves. The man pulls a luggage
cart with one suitcase bungeed on top of another,
and the woman … my God, she holds her
high heels in her hand and runs on silk!
Galway Kinnell, from “Running on Silk,” in Imperfect Thirst (Houghton Mifflin, 1994)
I just blacklisted a CERTAIN user’s url.
There was a letter from him taped on my door today. The last line of the letter read, “I hope we get to tell each other really lame jokes for a really long time. I would like that a lot.”