excerpts from my journal …
… and it seemed like love was something you bought at a dime store … something you used for a while and then letting it gather dust somewhere in a closet
revel in your delusions of grandeur … reality is a bit a hard to wake up to.
… true love is a liability … when it’s gone life doesn’t seem livable anymore.
… and it hurts—the thought of not living anymore and somehow that you’ve loved and hated this life more than ever before … and what a mess you came out in the end. (i wrote this when i was on a plane … i thought we were gonna crash from all the turbulence.)
… is rape a form of flattery?
pelted by sleet snow and rain … its drooping branches hang. i asked the tree, “are you depressed ?” it said “no” just that life had wearied it. so i gave alms to the tree. it thanked me and said it was in better spirits. i was pleased and bid goodday to the tree.
… smoking a cigarette is the adult pacifier
… and i felt like jesus christ … jesus’ love … jesus’ compassion … and then i remembered i was an atheist … and i forgot about his love … and i forgot about his compassion.
“ignorance is bliss”
“ahh but being conscious of one’s ignorance is even more bliss.”
indifference is the heart of cruelty.
on this sea of mustard grass; the gentle sway of the ocean’s sun; shafts of light part the midnight blue sky.
… where is that mad high … that mad creative high which has always cradled my soul … it always seems beyond my grasp.
you can dwell in darkness for so long … that when a spark of light illuminates your mind … it can seem like a godsend.
emotions are the root of madness … but that’s what makes life worth living no?
… cruelty is in the heart of the stranger.
… i thrive under alienation …
… i wanted to taste ugliness just to know what beauty was like.
… actually being sociable is a way of disarming yourself from being uncomfortable
… i like the rain … it subdues the angry rage in my bitter heart.
… they say time heals all wounds … but it’s not true … it only makes things worse.
… we’re all whores in one sense or another … some of us are just better at convincing ourselves that we’re not.
and in thine madness i found my precious clarity … my precious clarity the only vice that carried me through the years …
people generally associate strength with aggression … but it’s a lie … aggression stems from an insecurity of being weak.
it’s not so much that i’m fearful of death … but the growing realization that i won’t or can’t realize my full potential before i die … and that’s what scares me more than anything else.
sane people can never be happy … they’re too painfully aware of how frightening life can be.
the liver is the cock’s comb
misery is the cradle of all good writing.
marriage is a business not a romance.
non-existence is the reward for existence
of course i talk to myself … who else is there to talk to?
the difference between a genius and a madman is that the genius can articulate his madness and a madman cannot.
humanity and sex don’t go well together.
being crazy is expensive.
laughter is the cure for depressive misery.
art and science parallel in that they are both pursuits of truth.
poor people are crazy … rich people are eccentric.
you’re so convinced in your opinion that it becomes fact to you.
you have to have the courage to fail … without it success is impossible.
the first impression is the best … the second impression is good and the last means you’re addicted.