Friday, June 28, 2013

you are a satin noose

It's eight in the morning and I'm sitting on my employer's dinner table, waiting for the kids to finish breakfast. It's ten times hotter in Lafayette than Fremont and I'm already contemplating turning on the air conditioning. I'm tired from the night before but not hungover. I kept promising to black out but never actually achieved it because I was just that tired. But I'm always this tired. Tired all the time because my youth is at its closing ceremony (if it hasn't had it already). This is what it feels like to have make money. And I thought having money would make me feel secured even for just a minute. But I'm now more stressed about it than ever before. It's tiring. I'm fucking tired. I feel old and dead. And I never having anything better to say.


The capitalization (or lack thereof) suggests that it should not be taken seriously. But the punctuation signifies that I mean it.

Tuesday, June 25, 2013


Hey. Come and rot with me.

Friday, June 21, 2013


Everyone is all fucking the same.

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Monday, June 10, 2013

Das ma kilt



"I was obsessed by thoughts of this woman or that, of all the ones I'd had, all the circumstances under which I'd loved them; so much so that the cell grew crowded with their faces, ghosts of my old passions. That unsettled me, no doubt; but, at least, it served to kill time."

Wednesday, June 5, 2013


If you look up futility, you'll see my name in reference (all self-deprecating shit intended). My emotions are hungry and I want to be alone. Maybe I'm confusing emotions from hormones. My life is made up of distractions after all. 

ARCHIVE, FUCKERS (for Ace-like purposes)