go back to sleep america.
I noticed the capitalization and was surprised to find myself nearly doubled over in pain at the there-not-here of it. I marvel at that way of resolving conflict but it's not for me; I know if it comes down to it I'll sink to anything at all.
6:17. Insomnia, insomnia, insomnia. Think about the smart women you've loved and how someday when you're in your early 30s you'll have a phase and go find them only to realize to your dismay they've all gone and married some son of a bitch and though they thankfully aren't getting any fatter they've kept eating and eating and becoming these awful things until you need to rush home and stick your fingers down your throat and try not to think of all the pubic hair of theirs you've swallowed trying not to cry because you're allowed to cry now; you're enlightened. Think about your friends and how when you're 30 at least half of them will be married with kids and houses with gates and you'll spend night after night saying goodnight at ten o'clock trying to keep the beg out of your voice remembering all the weekdays you spent waiting for the weekend and the weekends you spent waiting for the weekdays where you could work and not have to think about all the things you have in mind. The parties you left too early, the cocaine-fueled get-togethers with nobodies you left at 6 in the morning, the things you wish you hadn't had the guts to say. the moment you realized you're too old for bill hicks, the morning you noticed you're done with the ideas in fight club; now you just watch it for the explosions and the pixies. i mean, i think we are our job, we are our clothes, we are our shoes. i used to think that way, now i think this way. i was nihilistic but now i'm younger than that. i think.
i want to know why my room is always the hottest room in whatever apartment i live in for the summer.
6:17. Insomnia, insomnia, insomnia. Think about the smart women you've loved and how someday when you're in your early 30s you'll have a phase and go find them only to realize to your dismay they've all gone and married some son of a bitch and though they thankfully aren't getting any fatter they've kept eating and eating and becoming these awful things until you need to rush home and stick your fingers down your throat and try not to think of all the pubic hair of theirs you've swallowed trying not to cry because you're allowed to cry now; you're enlightened. Think about your friends and how when you're 30 at least half of them will be married with kids and houses with gates and you'll spend night after night saying goodnight at ten o'clock trying to keep the beg out of your voice remembering all the weekdays you spent waiting for the weekend and the weekends you spent waiting for the weekdays where you could work and not have to think about all the things you have in mind. The parties you left too early, the cocaine-fueled get-togethers with nobodies you left at 6 in the morning, the things you wish you hadn't had the guts to say. the moment you realized you're too old for bill hicks, the morning you noticed you're done with the ideas in fight club; now you just watch it for the explosions and the pixies. i mean, i think we are our job, we are our clothes, we are our shoes. i used to think that way, now i think this way. i was nihilistic but now i'm younger than that. i think.
i want to know why my room is always the hottest room in whatever apartment i live in for the summer.
posted by Minimalism Fanaticism at 3:35 AM
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