I can’t wait until I have a son so that I can text him: “I am sorry but life will never ever get better and you are always going to be tired and sad and you will eventually die. All of this is in inevitable. See you for dinner.”
Alt lit
Forth Avenue
I saw a drake get smashed by a Grand Am
as its female mate flew off.
I was horrified at the pain the lady bird must feel,
but then realized it was just a duck.
I then cried out in my head,
“Oh my god, you have no idea how sad you should feel.”
I THINK I DECIDED I WANT TO BE A WRITER. I WILL SIT ON THIS HARDWOOD FLOOR WITH A PEN AND A PIECE OF PAPER YOUR MOM GOT ME FOR CHRISTMAS. I WILL NOT BE HEMMINGWAY NOR MCCARTHY. I WILL NOT BE GOOD AT ALL. I WILL NOT BE GOOD BUT I PROMISE I WILL AT LEAST TRY AND WHEN I DIE THERE WILL MAYBE BE AT LEAST ONE PERSON WHO REMEMBERS ME AS SOMETHING OTHER THAN A GHOST.
I JUST REMEMBERED THAT WHEN I WAS TEN I MADE MY MOM CRY BECAUSE I WOULDN’T STOP POUTING AFTER WAL-MART SOLD OUT OF FURBYS AND I HATE MYSELF.
Metazen published a poem of mine today called “I consider you following me on Twitter as a profession of faith and as an oath of love”
News
I am in the process of ‘revamping’ my website. I added a tab for my published work. Here’s to hoping it starts to grow.
I am also going to try and make my tumblr not as shitty. I feel it’s really shitty.
I am listening to Bloc Party. I feel like I am perpetually stuck in 2006.
I was rejected from Pangur Ban Party for the second time. I reread the story that got rejected and I feel that the rejection was warranted.
I am two pages into my e-book. It seems ok.
I wrote a piece about the Aurora and Milwaukee shootings and submitted it to Thought Catalog. It will get rejected by silence but that’s alright.
Ain’t nothin’ but a thang.
Also, New Wave Vomit opened submissions again. Awesome.
return to blogging
It is 5:42AM and I have just decided that I am returning to blogging. I am returning to writing. I have been trying to be a regular person who plays video games and goes to bars and is sociable and likeable and makes friends. This is not what I want to do with my life so I am coming back to the internet. Things make sense here; they are safe.
I am writing an e-book. The working title of it is “Diablo 3.” I’m not sure what will happen in it. I don’t know how to make a PDF.
Noah Cicero is in South Korea. I want him to come back to America so we will be on Facebook at the same time and I can ask him things.
I will be applying to grad schools in the fall. I don’t know how to do this. I have to ask my professors for letters of recommendation. I feel this will be awkward and horrible.
I am working on finding a voice for my Twitter account. I don’t know what works and what doesn’t. I feel like Twitter is an “uncharted frontier” in ways, but irrelevant and overdone in others. I think I might just tweet in all capital letters, things seem funnier that way.
First blogpost in awhile, courtesy of finals winding down and finishing nearly all of X-Files on Netflix. Read the rest at Caliper Wake.
Phoebe likes melted icecream.
