miraclegro

This place is the goddamned surface of the goddamned sun. Every day I tell myself "you know, I should go outside more. It'll be good for me." I then take one step outside, watch my skin begin to smoke like cracklin' bacon, and retreat, holing up in my room with books, records, and other accoutrements that don't produce heat. Whose idea was it to settle out here? An idiot, that's who! Then I think about living in Victorville and thank my lucky stars. There's always someplace worse. Unless you live in an asshole: and even then, what kind of asshole could make all the difference.

Mom and step-dad are gone 'til Wednesday. PAAAARTTTYY!! Not really, but if you want to visit, that'd be cool. I have a pool and macaroni salad.

Back to the collected fictions of Jorge Luis Borges. Fuck man, reading Borges makes me feel really dumb, but I just can't stop trying.