*bleedoop* There was a message on my phone. I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to decide if googling “home remedies for depression” one more time would give me any advice beyond “diet and exercise”. The advice is always “exercise, have a routine, eat well, don’t drink”.
I think I’ve let my existential angst get away from me. I mean, I’ve known for a while now that this whole angst thing, this thing that made me appear deep and complex— a certain dark sexiness, a radiant weltschmerz (or whatever)— that made it possible to wear plain black
10am is the absolute worst possible time of day for a weekday. 10am. 10am is a time of day that should go unnoticed. 10am is celophane time. 10am is white noise. 10am is traffic steady flowing. 10am is sunshine in San Diego. 10am is when there isn’t really any when
I’m donating my body to science… …but not the anatomical medicine sciences. Instead, I’ve decided to donate my body to the psychological sciences. I’ll not wait for death to be a service to mankind; I’ll start now, while the blood is fresh and synapses are still firing. The experiment? I’ll
Hello October… …summer is officially over, goodbye beautiful boys, goodbye dreams of the beach, goodbye my constant indecision over whether I should try to get a tan or try to avoid skin cancer, goodbye dreams of looking like a Ken Doll by Halloween. Hello autumn acceptance. Hello long walks with
Travelling by train… …still feels glamourous to me. As if every bump, every pitch and roll, every sway were a reminder that I am a Very Important Person… I am a Traveller.* I cannot wait for the day when we all go by trains and only trains. Well, trains and
Now boarding… I’ve said it before and I’m sure I’ll say it many times again, but modern airtravel is so weird. (if you’re just here for the paradox, skip five paragraphs down…) I arrived two hours early for my 7pm takeoff; I didn’t want to be rushed and I miscalculated