Elephants on acid

I’m back from the Hurricane Festival, which was probably my last festival. Apart from the flood and cold temperatures, I’m fed up with noisy drunk arseholes pissing outside tents!  Being around extreme party animals is a pet-peeve of mine. I get anxious when the alcohol screams through them. It’s sad how they believe they’re funny, Read More …

Kiss this, says Johnny

Today’s stress level is extremely high. I don’t need this shit. I need a mask for the day that turns me into my masked anti-hero–the one who never compromises. I never take sides, even if you’re a friend. Therefore, I proved myself a bad friend and can’t handle the guilt sometimes. I’m no sociopath, though. Read More …

Farewell is nigh

I forgot how to dance – like the birds in the evening sky. I see nothing around me except for rational statements coming from people’s mouths. It doesn’t interest me. Everyone sees things differently, and no one can connect with the one they feel attracted to (not to mention, love). I don’t tell people that Read More …

Rorschach whispers, Hurm

There are fewer spoken words each day because each sentence currently lacks meaning, or I just don’t get it. So it’d better remain unspoken before they lose more meaning. I’ve grown very detached from conversations. I dread going to the doctor’s this morning. He will talk about stuff that makes sense to him but mean Read More …

The bystanders

July 8th, 1967, Saturday Yesterday was Kitty Genovese’s birthday. It would have been her thirty-second. I turned twenty-five yesterday and spent the entire night working at the bar, listening to older men babbling about President Johnson while playing poker. One of them was Michael Voorhees. He is a sixty-three-year-old fellow whose wife died last month. Read More …