is it shameful to read through your own diary? why is it shameful to read through your own blog? why is it shameful to have sex with yourself? why is it shameful to sit at a restaurant by yourself and eat a big meal by yourself? why is it sometimes shameful to be alone and sometimes romantic and cool to be alone? why do I think anything is shameful?
19 Nov 2013 / 6 notes
Nowadays I have become increasingly aware of the fact of our planet Earth, that is, of this surface that we live on being a planet spinning endlessly and rotating around a solar system. It makes evenings scary, because I realize that we are moving farther and farther away from the sun. The witching hour now can grip me with a deep terror, because I know that the cold that surrounds me during that time is in fact my face of the planet turning to the void of deep space and receiving back from it the chill of death.
19 Nov 2013 / 2 notes
it feels like there’s a big overlap between the fashion obsessed, the internet obsessed, and the death obsessed.
there is someone sitting down the hall in the library who I can’t tell if they are my friend or if they are a different person entirely. oh oops she just turned around and she is definitely no friend of mine. mystery solved.
19 Nov 2013 / 0 notes
i think about the sweet seduction of celebrity a lot
18 Nov 2013 / 0 notes
i think about people who don’t know me a lot
18 Nov 2013 / 0 notes
i think about this door a lot
18 Nov 2013 / 8 notes
I love going to the passport office and seeing all the couples getting married. I love the fluorescent lights, too, the way they make the office seem eternal. Who better to live in purgatory with than with your spouse? I feel like that sounds like a joke about marriage but what I feel is that life is already a purgatory and love can make it better. Not that love is a salve, really, just that love is not the ruiner of things.
18 Nov 2013 / 4 notes
Phillip Seymour Hoffman (via:yaleiwang)
mourning an old favorite
beck makes everything better, why lie
this is very sad though my friends were not lying
a friend today read some of my poems and stories and asked: “are you full of existential angst?” I said yeah DUH and he asked “doesn’t that get exhausting?” I said yeah DUH and he said “but it’s indulgent right? you like to indulge.” and well yeah sometimes that’s true but sometimes the angst is this feeling in my bones and in every ounce of my flesh of wanting to vomit. not something to indulge in but something that rocks me like a disgusting cruise ship.
existence makes me want to vomit. sometimes it makes me want to effervesce, sometimes it makes me want to melt into the All. sometimes it doesn’t make me feel anything and I simply do what I do, but sometimes all any of this shit does is make me want to puke out all of my organs and bones and the skin they live in.
17 Nov 2013 / 6 notes
a good place
it’s that time of year where I begin to feel awful and realize all the ways my life is wrong and can be better. there is a twofold result of this: i realize exactly how i can improve my life and that is a relief, but i also realize that i will not be able to realize such changes until several several several months into the future and that is quite an anxiety-inducing prospect. i fear that my mind will chew on this for too long, but i am pretty sure that i am correct and that i only have things to look forward to at this point.
until then, make due with what i got, party apocalyptic until the world begins anew.
it is so cold that i can see my breath inside of my house i think i am a poor person
16 Nov 2013 / 1 note