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Wednesday, April 25, 2012

"Go and get a job. Go and find a flat. Find somebody else. Put them in the flat. Make them stay. Get a toaster. Go to work. Get on the bus. Look at your boss. Say, “fuck”. Sit down. Pick up the thing. Go blank. Scream internally. Go home. Listen to the radio. Look at the other person. Think, “WHY? Why did this happen?”. Go to bed. Lie awake! At night! Get up. Feel groggy. Put the things on - your clothes - whatever they’re called. Go out the door, into work - same thing! Same people, again, it’s real, it is happening, to you. Go home again! Sit, Radio, Dinner - mmm, GARDENING, GARDENING, GARDENING, death!"

- DYLAN MORAN

Saturday, April 14, 2012

that odd state of soul in which the void becomes eloquent, in which the chain of daily gestures is broken, in which the heart vainly seeks the link that will connect it again

Sunday, April 08, 2012

the output of endorphins as we’re swallowed by the sea

Wednesday, April 04, 2012

I'd tell you good news that I don't believe
if it would help you sleep

Monday, April 02, 2012

i'm the cage around my bird