Posts from the ‘Moods’ Category
…an indignation to which it is necessarily driven by the contradiction between its human nature and its condition of life, which is the outright, resolute and comprehensive negation of that nature.
you need dreams to keep you going, because when you’re waking up at five a.m. everyday to do pushups and situps and jump rope and then running outside when it’s thirty degrees out, you need an incentive. you need that ‘if’ to make you work just a little harder so when you do finally get that match to get you to the next level, you’re not going to fuck it up because someone out there was hungrier than you. i think some people are wrong when they say you only got one chance. you always have another chance. but if you fuck up your chance, you get used to fucking up. you come to accept it. and once that happens, the game is over.
when i sleep, i imagine doing horrible things to sarah ferguson, duchess of york.
addiction is this fucking man right here. he is always there. leaning against the wall. out of focus and in the dark. waiting for you to go running into his arms again.
believe
in that wishy washy time between winter and spring, i prefer beaver as opposed to fox or alligator or eagle. beaver has a certain je nous se qua about it. you know, the way it nibbles on your skin when the wind blows through the buildings at fifteen miles an hour. or sometimes, when i’m at home and after i’ve taken a shower, instead of using a towel, i use the beaver. it’s keeps me warm. i can spend the whole day in the beaver.
i was never really a lights man. but it’s the only one that doesn’t give me the shakes when i’m off it for a few hours. i grew up on hontashan before coming here so i’m used to smoking straight nicotine. i grew up smoking that since i was maybe ten or so. everyone was doing it. that’s what you did. over here, it’s a little bit like that but i think the young ones do it just to be cool. do some fucking labor in a farm for a few months. live in a place where food is rationed. then you can start smoking at whatever damn age you please.
the toughest part about ginger root is making sure it’s the real deal. the american stuff is alright but the real ginger comes from larnalkas. it’s a small island a few miles off the coast of chile. the only thing capable of growing there is the most powerful ginger in the world. i went there a few times. you can hire a guide to take you. the guide has a rope attached to his torso and he swims across with you in a rowboat behind. you have to make sure you bring a paddle though because if your guide goes down, the current will sweep you through the hexiboric current before you even know to try and swim back yourself.
when i was born, my mom told me that i had a lot to say. i don’t know whether that’s true or not but i know for a fact that kids don’t really speak in at least the first few months of life in a language that you and i recognize. it’s more like cooing and crying and screaming. so i’m not sure whether she was talking about that as opposed to some possible delusion she had. i think that’s a fair question, because people know, you and i know at least, that these kind of things get passed down.
i thought i was going to be president. but i was tired. so i took a nap instead.
e v e r y d a y aperture 