12/13/17

the bed doesn't have sheets on it. i'm lying on the bed

i flipped the mattress, did my laundry, cleaned the oven, vacuumed my apartment

is that seriously how "vacuum" is spelled? that's utterly insane. it's untenable

i saw a brief twinkle, or explosion, like electrical flash, of light while i was washing my hands in the bathroom. i thought it might be a bomb and i felt relieved

i feel sarcastic toward violence lately. i'm extremely anti-violence, anti-suffering. i've been thinking about death, suicide, if i resent people or not. i either hate everyone or no one, i can't tell. that's not true. i don't know

i, um

my hands, i don't want to type about that

an alchemist who could turn water into any kind of soup would be more valuable actually than a traditional alchemist because there could be gold soup, with liquid gold, for instance

charles miner worked at saticoy steel

last night i ate tagine and chocolate. i thought "do the crossword... be the crossword," which is funny because if people emulated crosswords, it would be horrible. it's like they already do. i hated being alive, and, ideologically, i always will. i'll always love it too. it's the only thing you do. people say "life is short," "life is long." it's neither. melville doesn't know his book got popular, probably. maybe he does. maybe he's an electrical flash of light. i have no idea what i mean. i haven't come to terms with death, and sometimes i want to die. i think about killing myself constantly, in the most vague, detached, distanced way imaginable, but constantly, with fantasy, not because i want to make people worry about me or feel guilty, but because i will almost definitely never do it

i can think about things forever, until i can't. do people with alzheimer's have fun thoughts? my grandma has alzheimer's

my parents are moving to rhode island. after a couple months from now i won't go near worcester, massachusetts again for many years, potentially, i hope. maybe i don't hope. my home is coney island, but nothing feels like... safe

are there really people building bombs in their apartments, rather that getting stoned and relaxing, having pointless, throbbing thoughts, waking up and working on novels? what the hell, even