fuck! you people and your spelling and grammar.

The struggle its self towards the heights is enough to fill a mans heart. We must imagine sisyphus happy.

-Camus

We must imagine Amy happy.

It's not that Im unhappy, its just that I used up all my happiness and the refill hasn't come in yet. Metaphorically, oh how I would love to be prescribed to some prescription mood enablers.

Yesterday we got the demons out of Heidi. She writhed and screamed and spat Latin and FLAILED! And I took that book of The Greatest Love Letters of All Time, and made her drink my tears bled for humanity and we exercised that hate from her, and it. was. ... beautiful. So, in case you missed the memo, Heidi is now hateless.

Kim pledged to be the punchline to my punchlineless jokes.


Today is my first day of school. I'm not registered for class. I don't give a fuck. I would like school better if I could smoke cigarettes and there wasn't other people in the classes. I would just sit in front of some gorgeous or handsome professor and we would just talk about things I like.


The list of: the only things that I deem acceptable conversation material:


1. Anthony Arteau

2. Simone De Beavoiur

3. Secret Societies

4. Where these bruises on my inner thigh came from



5. Romance! Death. And where I can find the Henry Miller to my Anais Nin.

6. The rapidly expanding and spiraling towards Andromeda

7. french foreign film

8. Proper use of the semicolon


I OUTLIVED THE SUMMER!!! I OUTLIVED THE SUMMER!! I OUTLIVED THE SUMMER!!!!
And everything in New York is filled with rage, everyone on the street is shrieking at each other. The hot dog venders and the buyers of hotdogs. The wine shop man and his. The woman blocking the can of tuna fish from the other woman trying to get a can of tuna fish. The young couple arguing over who is going to hold the bike. The old couple over who the hell knows what. The bums over established loitering posts, and the street artist just doing his thing. It's weighing on my heart. Perhaps I'll make a t-shirt to boost the citys morale, "Soon it will be fall. We'll be crisp and reborn." "We are going to make it after all."

The fall! It will replace the love feelings in my nose that you gave me. Ah to be able to smell clearly again, I. Cant. Wait.