it's not going away

i don't want to not trust. 

oh, the simple reality of what being human can actually mean. 

no note that i can sing will destroy this unsettling feeling-

gnawing away until the honesty decays. 

morose? 

i say it's truth. 

"and my brother lays upon the rocks/

he could be dead/he could be not/he could be you"

you see. 

i can foretell the future. 

bass line//repeat

i feel like a zombie.

i just want to sleep. 

oh, haiti.

the internet and cable at my house has been cut off due to insufficient funds.
because of this, i have been completly unaware of all that is going on/not going on in the world.
a bit vulnerable due to this, i walk out into the unknown horror/sadness/ deaths have occured.
i know nothing.
all i know is the book that i am reading-and it's all about some writer in the 50's.
all i know is genet's evil, thick cigars, and homosexual writers who are banned for their erotic content.

until that is, i fumble on the internet and discover that Haiti has suffered, Jay Reatard has died, and Pat Robinson is a fucking asshole-

i think i would almost rather stay buried inside.

fall.

another death-jay reatard.

people, stop dying. please.

university.

everything is gonna work out.

bootleg.

there is a deep buzzing in the hotel lobby.
it's been going on for about 4 hours now.
i don't know where it's coming from.
it could be annoying but i find it almost comforting.




i have tomorrow off.
it will consist of la bou coffee/practicing bowie/ playing with ophelia/watching bootleg films/interview with jenny/breakfast with machu (?)

keeping some sort of order in written form.
i don't know why i write in this.

ego.

what is the use of the human ego?
i do not care about all of your lessons that you've read on sociology.
doctrines or graduate programs, pages of literature, dismal language that you worship.
human experience is what will best teach us.
you have a frail ego and i, a frail heart.
what to make of that?
one of us will always remain shattered then-and so far, it's always been some rough start and/or constant fight with one another.
i'm tired.

Freud, if you are still around these parts-
tell me,
how can one lose that distorted sense of self?