No apologies: I am going to call myself the fuck out.
It takes me months to write a piece.
It takes me just a few weeks to actually write a piece.
"its like butter, its like butter baby, not no parkay, not no margarine. its butter, baby."
stop being so damn mean
achieve expert status
stay busy, don’t seek relaxation
…without being too coolly content
let the cycle of things you love work in the larger picture
rather than the obsessive smaller picture
roll with the awkward
move through conflict like the ocean
don’t be semantic
priorities, priorities, priorities
don’t waste your time
don’t waste others’ time
hiphop not rap
earthiness, stay ethereal
burn like magnesium, not like wood
jump off every ledge
don’t be prideful, don’t be modest
there are no polarities
love what you do
think but don’t swallow the world whole
remember its about going up
and just be damn perfect
hopeful, but lonely evening.
forced asked me pray the other day at the restaurant (probably illegal).
And so I was thinking about it.
Today I prayed this:
To whatever is or isn’t out there,
I want you to shut the fuck up, and I want your people to shut the fuck up, and I want you to watch me live life without you. I want to show you how life is supposed to be, and I want to be more than allowed to do that to the highest and fastest degree possible. Let me fail, let me ruin, let me be violent and evil, just watch me. I will get the life I deserve, and I will work to beat you, because I am alive. I will be around and find the other vibrants* I find and we will spin and live gloriously without you, in the darkest places, in the worst of times, in the most terrible way, as well as in the most beautiful places. I don’t care if you made me or made anything. I am alive for me. Watch carefully.
grad school seems silly. I want to move to berlin.