Elephants on acid

I’m back from the Hurricane Festival, which was probably my last festival ever. It was a week of suffering rain, cold, noisy drunk arseholes that piss outside your tent! Anyway, those people supported me with the music they make. So I let them off. I’m just not sure whether I’m ready to pull through the Read More …

Kiss this

Extremely stressed. Don’t need this shit. I need a mask for the day. Turning into my masked anti-hero. He never compromises. I never take sides. Not even friends’. I proved to myself of being a bad friend. I don’t need this. Sociopath. At least not fake. I can’t keep my mouth shut anymore. People agree Read More …

Farewell is nigh

I forgot how to dance – like the bird in the evening sky. I see nothing around me except for rational perceptions coming from people’s mouths. Uninteresting. Everyone sees things differently and can’t connect themselves to the one they feel attracted to or the one they love. I don’t tell people that I know how Read More …

Hurm

There are fewer spoken words each day because each sentence currently lacks meaning, or I just don’t get it. So it better remains unspoken before they even lose more meaning. I’ve grown very detached from conversations. I’m not looking forward to going to the doctor’s this morning. He will talk about everything that makes sense 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 …