so i just finished my last class at massart. i suddenly feel sick over it. it's depressing me. the thought of not being in college anymore makes me feel weird. not walking through the halls, meeting intelligent and interesting professors, i feel it will be hard to meet new people who I find interesting / share interests with. this is not coming ( Read more... )

The name of the number 3, start with an M C

The winner of the competition, the worst of them.

All he does is watch TV read books and do coke smoke cigarettes, drink whiskey and scream his jealousy.

He was not romantic, sex was catastrophic.

He was an alcoholic, he was just pathetic.

Just pathetic.

watching born into this... i can't get enough of charles bukowski. so perfect, so real, so honest.

if anyone is reading this i implore you to buy everything he's made, starting with the novels. read it all. all.

for two years I keep saying i need / want to go back on lexapro/trazodone... but I never do.
i still want to.
apparently im a pussy who can't deal with life without pills.

i really need to make an appointment.

sometimes when i'm on the subway i notice the faces of the people around me.
everyone seems so overworked, over tired and horribly depressed.
is anybody fucking happy anymore?

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.

-Charles

i'm so tired I can barely stay awake during the day. my eyes feel warm and heavy and I struggle to keep them from closing. I hide inside books about drunk writers on the bus. I wake up early, I work 12 hours a day, by the time I get home I just want to have a drink and sleep. things are closing in from all around me - i have no one to blame but ( Read more... )

reading mark safranko, bukowski, dan fante, john fante and henry miller make me want to write... but i can't write. It's fucked up. I suppose Ill just make art.

It's 1051 on tuesday night... Lauren and Sierra are fast asleep, I cleaned the apartment as quickly as I could because Wyatt/Adrian are supposedly sleeping here tonight. Now I'm drinking and designing... Listening to music and feeling pretty good. It's funny when I'm home, in a place I like I feel better. I really love this apartment, the people ( Read more... )

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