quotidian

That Robin Williams. The Mork and Mindy stuff was funny, I guess, but sometimes he's one creepy fucker.

The best thing about loneliness is that, after awhile, it takes a shape. You can hold it in your hands or stand in front of it and admire its textures and luminosity, and you can name it -- rainwall, moonfruit, needlebed -- but whatever you do, it's yours. No one can separate you from your loneliness unless you let it go.

The worst thing about...
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The cab driver says to me, "Where are you going?"

"Union Square," I reply.

"Where?" he says.

"Union Square," I repeat.

"Where's that?" he asks.

"You don't know?" I say.

"Is it north or south?" he asks.

"It's Union Square!" I cry.

We start driving. The cabbie gets on the radio to dispatch. "Estoy saliendo a Union Square," he says quickly.

"Donde?" dispatch replies.

"Union...
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I'm (possibly) going to a tea party today, for which I need to buy cigars and make myself pretty. These things make me uncomfortable, but what the hell, at least I'll get to smoke a cigar.

The apartment above me is occupied by this punk rock couple who apparently have a small carpentry business. The first few times I heard the construction, I thought they...
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Let us say simply that the artistic life is a difficult one in which we often find ourselves doing the destructive or malevolent for reasons we can't fully fathom. It's not that drugs or drink or bad choices make us better artists, it's that they're somehow part of us. Doing these things doesn't make you a better artist, but chances are that if you're an...
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Last night, in my deeply fucked up dream life, I took a break from my id's usual NC-17 content to play one of those arcade racing games that actually looks and (sort of) feels like a car. I don't remember much about it, except that the seat for the game was made of ice, which struck me as odd even in dream logic.

Things have...
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My coffee cup is Day of the Dead themed, and has images of a skeleton playing the upright bass, one playing the mandolin, and one on the drums. Everyone thinks that skulls have a kind of sinister grin to them, but these skulls are shiny happy smiling -- big open-mouthed (figuratively speaking) smiles with eye sockets warmly scrunched at the edges. The mandolin player is...
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Insufferable insomnia. I have to be up in about four hours, and my head is humming like an idling bus.

This is all my fault, of course. Every day goes like this:

1. Wake up after far too little sleep.

2. Coffee.

3. Trudge reluctantly through the day.

4. Realize I haven't eaten all day.

5. Eat. Coffee.

6. Grow powerfully overcome by a post-eating...
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So, yet another journal in which to dump my head. This whole Suicide Girls thing is strange to me - I've never paid for an "adult" site, but SG is really different. It's interesting to me because the entire structure of the site seems to resist objectifying the women here, which I find refreshing and exciting.

What's really curious is how little the erotic content...
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