i am currently obsessing over the posthumous works of some of the writers i am most interested in. this is the most time i've spent with my computer because who ever uses their computer to that extent anymore. we've all got phones. but every time i destroy a phone, which is starting to feel like a biannual occurrence, i end up researching things that i never get a chance to think of when glued to my phone. yes, yet another rant about all the time i'm getting back due to not having a phone. seriously, this feels all too familiar. i just did this last january. it doesn't feel like i'll want to have a phone soon, but i know i need it. it's rather crucial now, especially for really anyone who has got a job. my wristwatch is serving me quite nicely, but we won't last long. neither will all these poorly capitalized/punctuated entries (of which, really, are just one of my attempts for a better stream of consciousness [aka i'm trying to write out da ass]). there are many books that i would like to spend all my time and money on. i've got some time and i've got some money. but neither satisfy me. (like anything ever satisfies me). today is my sister's birthday, and i'd like to sleep now, but it's only two, and i'm still very much awake.
ps.
i stumbled across an old entry i wrote in...2010, i believe. about a time i spent all night talking to a particular friend. and how, out of everyone, we shared most similar interests and beliefs and perspectives. we understood each other without needing so much as the pleasantries. out of everyone, still i'd say, he greatly influenced the things of which i still find interest in. and i don't want to further emphasize how disinterested i am about everything (i've beaten that subject to a dripping red pulp) but the things we used to stay up all night talking about, or listening to, or watching, remain with me as they'd always been. when all our friends would cut out for the night, we'd still drive around just to hear the songs that feel like we play just to see if we can read each other's minds. i don't mean to sound romantic, but that's what the friendship meant to me. means to me? i don't know, i hope.
it's funny because i was just talking about how much he'd changed. and how unrecognizable he seems. and how his light seems to have dimmed. then i recalled how i said that i'm one to talk. truly though, i don't think i even have a light anymore. and this all now just feel like a very unfunny dream
(particularly all day today).
