Once again, I’ve been pacing the place, repeating to myself that I need to get my shit together, drinking too much again.; need to replace it with something. So, I need to write stuff again. After two days of calling off work because I just can’t get out of bed, I’m going in to the... Continue Reading →
Don’t go back to the Chinese restaurant. You’ve been there three times and every time it’s a close call. Three times you’ve sat there and watched people run up with guns, shooting and killing people. And yet you’ve gone back. You’ve crouched down in a booth, shitting yourself while death surrounds you. Misses you. You’ve... Continue Reading →
Imagine having a terrible hangover in 8 AD. How would you make sense of the pain, sickness and waves of anxiety? Probably feeling worse than Ovid writing his Black Sea Letters: the exile from the world of your people, your life; feeling as though you're on the brink of death and clinging to the hope... Continue Reading →
Things that m'lord has said incorrectly. Slowly combing through clips to add any more that I hear for myself. Catch you cool cobras later. "Cardinal Cherries" for Cordial Cherries "Billie Elighzh" for Billie Eilish "Pramazhan" for Parmesan "Bill Barr" for Bill Burr "Churn O'Boil" for Chernobyl "monitorization" for monetization "phonicsly" for phonetically "nestle" (as in... Continue Reading →
[B]esoin d’écrire et besoin de ne plus [boire] s’épaulent…. -Adaptation of a line by Roland Dubillard Written on day one of quitting drinking. Forgive the quality if poor. One of the problems with drinking too much is that space (places in your life) becomes stained with the filth of drunkenness. You connect your world around... Continue Reading →
Where was I on the night of Thursday, January 3, 2019? At home. Got home late from work. Declined an invitation to go to the gym. Wanted to just make some tea, chill, read. Only had a couple hours to myself to just do nothing in particular. At about midnight, I had one last cigarette,... Continue Reading →
“Il y a sur la boule terrestre une foule innombrable, innomée, dont le sommeil n’endormirait pas suffisament les souffrances. Le vin compose pour eux des chants et des poèmes.”[1] -Charles Baudelaire, Paradis Artificiels About a month or two ago, when winter began really to show itself in the Midwest, my circle of friends and I... Continue Reading →
A small, mouthy bird landed in the parking lot of a 24-hour diner in the suburbs. It was about 10:30 PM. He was supposed to meet his friend, a dog, at 10:45. He looked at his phone and saw a series of missed text messages from the dog that read: >omg >Wait. >I have to... Continue Reading →
The inside joke is like a circle: it includes and excludes. Thus, with regards to a circle of friends, it establishes a boundary: those who ‘get’ the inside joke, and those that don’t. The more defined this boundary is, that is to say, the more high-context the joke is, the stronger the bond is between... Continue Reading →
DA-PHNE (chicago) 