We all got it coming, kid.

Sometimes at night I wake up and need to write something down. I keep a little notebook next to my bed and write down whatever fever dream is compelling me to document itself. Sometimes I'll write in the dark, with words overlapping, I'll write twice on the same page.

Earlier this week:

"Writing about myself is symptomatic of my anachronistic confidence and post-modern lack of modesty.

Maybe it's all just defiance. Maybe I'm rebelling against the egalitarian, social-socialism of the times. Maybe I can't stand the zeitgeist of gladness and revering the parity of everything. If I lived in a time of winners and losers, which I surely do not, would I push for the participant ribbons and yearn for special-olympian treatment for all? The confidence in me insists I wouldn't.

I will crash and cry but I will not crawl and cringe. Give me your sincerity and keep your approval. I don't need, want or ask for it. If you want mine, you're already out of luck."

"These are strays. These are dogs who have lost their way home when the rains came."




Ummmm, yeah. I guess 3AM is an intense time for me. I spared you most of it.

I guess I felt like I should put something on here, document something, with a little soul for once. It can't all be good advice and playlists, right?