the craziest guy is always the guy who only halfway succeeded in wetting his hands and smashing down the tufts of hair sticking up on the back of his head.
new farewell where you shake the person's hand with both hands and say, 'hey but look, i'm sick of your shit, i'll see you later.'


style of writing called 'twenty-something pampered jr. drug addict lazy and proud of it pop culture referencing halfassed ironic attention seeking' chic.


feel like more 'established/successful' artists should antagonize the current/coming generation rather than blindly support it for his/her own continued success, that way s/he helps build a better future.
wanting to ruin something once you build it up to a certain point, jsut because
pushing your face into the blades of a giant fan at the rate of one inch per year
that shit where people act less intelligent to appear more endearing
the more money/luxury people have the less manners they have


sending out a mass email about your new book/project is really fucking annoying. if i dont regularly talk to you and/or express interest in your work then why are you sending me some fake-ass friendly-toned yet totally heartless bullshit email about your shit.


i have an old prepaid phone with some time on it if anyone wants to call and have a conversation and record it and put it online. with any luck it can be as (for whatever reason) troubling/upsetting as that podcast i did.


4th of july is the day you remember there have been wars to allow the current generation to celebrate by dressing like morons and acting like fucking asshole slobs and make you ashamed to be part of the same country.


talking shit to the firing squad


RIP rontel. you were five.  why did you get so skinny. i love you.


this will be really good
jordan castro got a tattoo of a drawing i did
feel like film reached its most beautiful moment in 'sudden death' with that shot of van damme pressing his face and hands up against the glass at the hockey rink, breathing that steam and screaming 'noooooooooooooo' right before the bomb is supposed to go off, but like, no one around him knows what's going on because they're all cheering.


person recently referred to an amount of my exposed chesthair as 'taco meat.'


one of the only types of narrators i can't ever enjoy or understand or whatever is the 'jaded rich person who's just so darn jaded'


afterlife of lying down in a field and letting a pack of dogs eat you then feeling yourself pass through each of their bodies and reforming from the shit as yourself at the birth of your former life, with no memory of it.
randomly checked the stat thing for this blog and one search that lead here was 'best young butthole in the world.'  consider your search over
that terrible tense feeling in almost every situation that other people are being insane and you're losing your mind because you don't understand how many steps back you have to take to explain why that person is insane but you want to like cancel them out in some absolute way, like completely ruin them and erase them from even your own memory but it all hurts and you truly don't fear dying because even though yeah you probably don't understand dying you definitely know it won't be the same as all the shit you deal with living so why not
weird how many people are impolite and disrespectful without provocation
i'm at this artist residence currently where it's like jail but i live alone and there aren't any guards and i still have to go to work and i still have to pay rent and there aren't any meals provided and there aren't any other artists and i don't have to write i mostly draw instead of write because the headaches from the heat make it hard to focus.
achieving the strong resignation of a gorilla sitting crosslegged and emotionless in a small room painted to look like a jungle at the lincoln park zoo
love for my people doing anything they can to avoid feeling like themselves for any period of time.

even more love for my people doing whatever it takes to always feel like themselves.
full speed crash and burn and blow away as a feeling of peace versus calm thought-out pacing and survival while feeling like you're going full speed at a brickwall to crash and burn and blow away.
a razor-lined noose over a pit of rats
kind of weird how much shit is aimed at increasing peoples' egos while secretly reminding them they aren't shit so they create a person who is willing to defend something s/he doesn't even necessarily like or support or understand.
afterlife that is slightly longer than your bodily life where you watch a movie (with voiceover) of your bodily life and how it should've went (according to some ultimate 'should' that you can't argue with) and you just sit there watching it, slowly crying--not like an active sobbing but just making no face and not blinking as tears come out of your eyes--and then when it's over you are fully dead and have no more interaction with any world (physical/spiritual/whatever) again and you don't know anybody and nobody knows you.  
kind of weird that the idea of anything you do being pointless (and selfish), including continuing to live at all, isn't more widely acknowledged and communicated on a daily basis (in a nondramatic/non-pessimistic/logical way [sort of like, 'hey, did you know!') to people both young and old.
two kinds of relationships:

1. none/complete indifference


2. total/all-consuming
recent urges to grab whatever object is nearest and try to press it into my face
pierced by a thousand fishhooks and laying in the sun as ten people piss on you
recommend cutting more and more things out of your life that way any small luxury feels really good.
the clever ways people find of turning your healthy anger/opposing feelings/confrontational personality into something wrong
movie called 'he's got the beat' where a character deals with stress/alienation/depression by going home and emotionally air drumming to songs.
if you ever get mentioned in Newcity's 50 People Who Matter in Lit then take a shit on the ground and shoot  yourself in the face so you land facedown in the shit.
that shit where sometimes you only think of yourself/for yourself and sometimes you think of yourself as someone else, an outsider to be treated coldly and clinically
recommend 'lonely lyle' by 'big business.'
recommend not owning/holding onto anything you've written/made
that shit where you realize you're only ever really comfortable/natural when greeting/meeting a dog and not ever a human
if you want to read a story cut from 'witch piss' called 'at the park' just email me and i'll copy and paste it into an email.  you can pay for it by doing something nice for someone or doing something mean to someone for yourself.
afterlife of becoming the fog on lake michigan


i have a story in The Austin Review.  the story is called 'at the park.'  if anyone wants my copy of the journal, email me your address. the lock is busted off my mailbox and it probably won't ever get repaired, via slumlord bullshit so i don't really get mail.


jereme dean started an ask.fm

i recommend asking his opinion on shit art-world related and otherwise.

 i really believe his opinion is valuable.

dont ask stupid shit

go italy



yo, if you've never washed clothes in your bathtub then fuck you


eating cold soup out of the can and sitting on the floor as a rat runs by me, into the hole in the wall behind my toilet. everybody sucks but it's for different reasons. one million points for me, and none for you.