Can everyone agree that this whole life thing is shit?
I did nothing today. I didn’t read like I said I was gonna. I didn’t even wake up until 1.30 or something, but that’s okay, because I didn’t want this fucking day anyway. I wanted to put this one back in the fucking basket, but by the time I knew it I’d left fingerprints and they charged me for it anyway. And now I’m eating it.
If I only knew what I want, I’d be able to ‘work toward’ it.
Not so long ago, I accidentally dropped apples out of a cart and ran over them. But even though I know it wasn’t so long ago, it was a long fucking time ago.
The biggest distance from today to the past is between today and yesterday. Last year, or last decade, is only barely farther back than yesterday, if it’s farther back at all.
I’m gonna go outside and chain smoke for the next eight hours. When I’m done, I’ll have loved and lost and loved again, the story of my life and everyone else’s, too. When I’m done, I’ll be ten years older and a hundred years wiser, and all that wisdom will be gone by tomorrow, which, paradoxically, is very close.
When I’m done, there will be nothing more to say. When you’re done, there never is.
I miss things, but they’re gone. I don’t miss other things. They’re gone, too. That doesn’t make any sense. If the result is the same, why bother to miss some things and not others? I must be stupid.
From where I sit, I count six bicycles out the window.
Whenever I hear an Oasis song now, I think of you, aqueous.
This monkey’s gone to heaven.
World: I am your man.