February 2012
Do you all remember me? lols
I have something to say: namely, fuck you for sparing encouragement when you never had any real intent.
Who the fuck was I kidding, to begin with?
PREPPING MYSELF FOR NEW FIONA APPLE, OBVIOUSLY.
Naturally, I only turn to tumblr these days to...
I feel like everyone is so good at making friends, except for me, and it makes me disappointed in myself.
Fuck it.
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"extra credit"
the flat coveted a spartan grace, prismatic sea-windowed wall and stolid black furnishings, the platform bed cornered between muted lilac walls, where the two of us lie on exhibit
he had clutched my metereous fascination for a semester, suspended its orbit with talk of subversion and semen, forlorn tricks and theoretical quips- once, he told us he preferred solitude, so he was
clumsy, clothes...
January 2012
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"The Garden of Aristophanes"
waking up in a garden split in two, i found my missing half in the body of you
pieced kudzu shambles from helix hair, suckled honey from sorrel, soiled lips in bloom- zeus had sworn retribution, but aphrodite foiled his plans high up, our bright...
Life is getting better, again. I’m living downtown, I’m working at a really cool place, and I’m making new friends, and it’s all inspiring me, once again, to get my mind and body healthy, so that I can capitalize on the incredible people/opportunities life is throwing my way.
a rake's tale: Retort to a Retard: On Jeffrey... →
picaresqueties:
Many of you have no doubt seen this video circulating on the Internets in recent months. I’ve seen it linked to on Facebook at least three times. I take issue with it, not only as someone who loves sex, but also poetry (as if they two could ever be different things). I take issue with a great…
PLEASE READ THIS PIECE OF BRILLIANCE BY MY DEAR LOVER, JON JOHNSON, FUTURE...
December 2011
I STARTED WORK AT MY NEW JOB TODAY. THINGS YOU SHOULD KNOW:
The place is a hookah lounge and headshop.
It’s called “Flashback/Whatever”.
There are posters all over the walls, most notably ANI FUCKING DIFRANCO (right next to Debbie Harry!).
I’ll probably never have a job this cool again.
Have I mentioned how I got a job at a hookahbar/headshop? Because yeah, that’s happening. It’s called Whatever, and I’m so pumped.
If I can’t shelve books at the library, I wanna be selling bongs to stoners.
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1. notes from the fort
sneakersoles sell footfalls to pavement, the fort at six-thirty-six, PM the brisk waltz home, cheeks sanguine from cold and alone,
sex and gasoline wafting in patches through sparse december air, he can feel the bodies locked inside, past this door and that,
le eau de broke and bored and together, which their memories, in coming years will cast as an effigy of the time and lover as a whole, ...
how to explain my silence is a rope, and you are the executioner, and we have children to feed, eyes in the audience to this sustainment of blood by bloodshed? sunlight’s last stealth steals my vision, and the words come- i’ve never loved you until now.
Fuck off, jonathan franzen. I’m not meant to be relentless.
Mmmm, smells like Sylvia’s baking! You’re a lucky man, Mr. Plath.
(For the purposes of our nerdy little joke, we’ll forget that this was actually Ted Hughes… that’s all he is to the world now, anyway.)
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Saying “I wish you were hereeee to cuddleeee” gets old after so many times (no matter how many e’s you use), so you have to think of new, inventive, and exciting ways to communicate this sentiment. For example:
“I WISH YOU’D FUCKEN CHOKE IN UR OWN VOMIT WHILE U SLEEP U FECALDOUCHE… haha, just kiddin, I luv yewwwww” (the extra w’s are crucial)
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… And so soon, his pocket’s fill of ticket stubs became a catologue of lovers won and surrendered, the train routes a charter demarcating his loopy desire.
When do we question the concept of charity? When presidential candidates reify “private” welfare programs like free clinics as proof that the poor and middle classes are secure and well-cared for in our modern financial order, should we not consider the possibility that charity is no longer a counterforce to inequality, but instead the lynchpin of supercapitalism’s facade of...
Does anyone know of any books/stories that combine fictional narrative and critical theory? I know “House of Leaves,” but what else? I’ve been thinking that my senior thesis might be about a student who becomes obsessed with his professor while writing a paper on the “flamer” archetype, so that I myself could write both…
I really need some experience with how...
Its really weird to me that at this party of new-agers, I received the following comments from two separate people:
“Feminine energy is feminine energy, right?” (With regards to whether me taking her class would be “creepy,” (my words, naturally).
“You seem really masculine right now… it’s good to try on both sides of the binary to find your own...
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Sentimentalists are life’s frugalest creatures. Is the definition of thrift not making much out of nothing?
My dad is always refered to as my dad.
“All things are redeemed, all things are saved by love.”
-Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov
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I love that this time last year, I was detoxing from amphetamines and being obsessed with sleigh bells, and this year I’m getting really into mia’s “maya” album. Why is noisewave the only thing that can hold my ear during these dopaminedeprived serotoninstarved periods?
Really, though, she talks about speed a lot on this album. And it sounds like my mind, a bit.
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I’m probably a terrible person, but I want it all, even the things I wouldn’t let myself have.
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K: have you thought about cutting your hair?
Me: no, but I think its hilarious how men suggest I do so, while girls say they love it.
K: well, are you dating the girls?
Me: uh, no, and knowing men want me to do one thing makes me want to do the opposite.
THE NEXT PERSION WHO SURREPTITIOUSLY SUGGESTS I CUT MY HAIR IS GETTING THEY FACE KICKED IN. I AM NOT INTERESTED IN YOUR NORMATIVE IDEALS.
My sense of morality is being coopted by my sexdrive… or maybe I’m just enlightened.
The best thing about withdrawls from adderall is the awesome naps I take.
hahaha sometimes i really love my sister
me: can i pleeeease have this chair? sister: no! your dad already took it once, and i had to trade him something to get it back. me: his children? sister: no, i took them.
It takes talking to a needy guy to make you realize how you do, in fact, need distance and independence, and
appreciate finding that in someone else, even if sometimes an aggregate of relational independence can be confusing and make you think you want a guy more clingy…
You don’t. At all.
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