Friday, July 31, 2009

If you periodically shatter and scatter, that is the cycle where I want to be involved with you, what I want to induce in you, the dissolution and fragmentation and enlivening and liberation from guilt and worry and grace.
I do not feel shame. I am a cogitating animal, aware of the fiction of supernatural moralities and the relativity of sociocultural moralities.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Bombast. Everything tends to be so bloody boring, including people, including you, including me.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Everything you have been told is incorrect. Everything you have figured out yourself is incorrect.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

I do nothing because there is nothing to do, and nothing to be done, and to believe that there is leads a path to misery.

Thursday, July 23, 2009


A sound of harried assent.
Life is a booger, but oblivion has Nothing going for it.
What is love, anyway? Hell. Death.
Identity is an illusion, a vanity.
I can say the things within me until I die and you can listen to every one of them and you will still not know who I am. Nor I you. Nor anyone anyone.
I could tell you I love you. I could tell you I hate you. I could tell you I am not capable of loving, nor of hating. It all feels honest -- so how do I know what is honest?
Regardless of diseases, your body will break down and you will die.
There is no 'forward' to go to. There is only now.
What am I doing? I'm waiting on death, and so are you, whether or not you understand so.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Ambition is for suckers and Americans. It is vanity to believe that your particular life is important and that anything you do is of consequence.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Spend more time in the library. It makes life bigger; the possibilities flow into your head.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Inside the hull of the warship when the shell detonates.

Pieces, pieces, pieces...

Saturday, July 4, 2009