m'face y'face



Whales out.

Now to get away from the anger and the weirdness and the politik. You've sat through thousands of words of meandering adolescent crap about relationships and drugs and love and music. Let's get back to the real world, solid and certain facts.
Despite the fear and the guilt and everything, Eve and I are still stupidly, incredibly and scarily happy. ( Read more... )

I love music. I can't describe what it does to me. The best I can do is compare it to the feeling of swimming proficiently - the feeling of slipping through something fluid and cold but strangely comforted in its embrace. The feeling of weightlessness and carefree emptiness of mind. It makes my skin tingle, and my heart beat louder and faster, or ( Read more... )

I am overcome with guilt, and confusion. Walking the six miles home from Freeland tonight, I began to think about the way in which Eve and I gave up all drugs together, on my suggestion. At the time, I said (and believed) it was because I didn't want us to change artificially because I felt sure that through artificial change we'd develop apart ( Read more... )

Our strengths and inadequacies seem to stem from the same root...or would I even go so far as to say that our strengths stem directly from our inadequacies. I got to thinking about my writing, and what it is that gives me the ability to write coherently and (I hope) interestingly. I feel that it probably stems from the fact that I have an ( Read more... )

We keep our insignificant blemishes so that we can blame them for our larger defects. Take, for example, my nose. It's been broken four times and is consequently as bent as Rufus Wainwright's sexuality. People tell me that it's "distinguished" when I swear I will get the damn thing straightened one day, but I know this is only to protect me from ( Read more... )