My new book, Double Meaning, will be out soon! I ordered a proof copy that should arrive tomorrow. I already know, however, that I’m going to make some changes, after which I’ll need to order another proof. So, hang tight. I’m still on track for an early November release.
Three holes to fill: I’m lonely, horny and ornery. Or, in clinical terms, I’m depressed, (hypo)manic and anxious. In the end, I’m screwed.
To earn a living you have to quit dreaming. To fall in love you have to get over yourself. Working and dating: two chores I have no energy for.
Jean Baudrillard: “Language, too, has its molars for grinding, its incisors for cutting, its canines for tearing—and, from time to time, a wisdom tooth.”
Enlightenment: enduring the pain of a wisdom truth.
After all the therapy and all the refills, I should be myself again. How unbearable—to be yourself as God or your doctors intended! If the doctors say there’s nothing wrong with you, ask God for a second opinion.
As a kid I wondered what would be here if the world were not here—if God, in the Beginning, had nothing to live for.
Traumatized in high school, I wrote numb poetry, without irony, already finding ways to reverse my birth through verse.
I was a missing person in my own backyard. An absent student with perfect attendance. No one, except God perhaps, noticed I wasn’t (all) there.
I am not a recovering melancholic. I continue to overthink.