I tried to eat an orange but it had too many seeds.
Sunday was Valentine's Day. I think I'm getting pretty good at exorcising drama from my life. Didn't call any of my ex's or any of the guys I'm currently fucking.
I guess if sex stops being about this mutual knowledge it becomes as perfunctory as procreation and that's boring.
I think my parents are shrinking. Which in and of itself is sort of strange.
Things I could do with my Life:
1. Become a Professor
2.Start a music publicity company
3. Organize Events
4. Move to the middle of nowhere and become a recluse
5.Do art advising
Day 2: 9:30am
Awaiting toothpaste. Didn't get too sunburned. Phone is perpetually dying. Managed to sneak around smoking cigs when I woke up. Took a shit and a shower. Sitting outside, super warm. I think my allergies are bothering me. Dreamt of y last night. Super weird. Maybe I'm dreaming of a domesticity I don't know how to access. I think I'll write alot today.
Kind of cold to write but I will. Sitting on the corner of 21st and Valencia in SF. It's raining, listening to Magnetic Fields. Have been trying to see Meg for 3 days, she's totally mia. I dunno, I don't want to care, but I do. Had a pretty nice day walking around. Didn't eat anything, wasn't really hungry. Went out for a super expensive dinner last night. Won't have any money when I get back.
Money and food are boring.
It's pretty moody here- cold and rainy. The city feels real but lacks. Can't explain it? I could but that's boring too. I bought Alaina an old man zine, spying on senior citizens or something.
Is my writing becoming akin to one long awful text message?