February 2011
1 post
forgot i had a blog
but I remember now.
I think that when I write I can’t help but write first person and in stream of consciousness fashion. I hate reading stream of consciousness but really I don’t have to reread this (mistype: retread; does that really change the meaning all that much?) so I guess I’ll live with it for now.
I found a plastic sword in the attic of an abandoned house a week...
September 2010
4 posts
When it’s really late at night and I can’t sleep (I can never sleep, is it karma? neurosis? who knows) all I want is for someone bigger to come and hold onto me for a little bit.
It’s sad, being awake at night and your eyes are dry but not sleepy, you know, and I can’t help but go and think about the people who I wish thought about me late at night.
N + 7 →
Stumbleupon, you give me the greatest stylist. For excommunicate, N+7, which shipwrecks every nudge seven epicures forward in a digestive. Laxative this intense will be the debut of you.
if i ever get married, fuck 'here comes the bride' →
I’m playing this right here when I come down the aisle.