Steve Cannon died. the father my real dad was too disinterested to be. I’d be overwhelmed about an application and he’d break it down: ‘Look on their website. Maybe they got a # listed. Now I want to hear the rest of the paper and check the email.
steve cannon rip used to say: here's the email: hi hi hi. low low low. happy funny bunny days. to each of you and yours. and love you madly, steve. thats all, put that laptop back and go back to the book. man that writer can go on and on.'
u try; running, take meds but it's there "something is wrong with u. fuck up. can't get a job. useless. u take, love is wasted on u. the world runs fine w/o u. why live? my book. maybe people feel this too.. every three hours i cry and then go back to writing.this is bipolar.
sometimes i scare myself.. i'm not alone. i'm always alone. i wake up and there's a hole. i'm so fucking tired of feeling useless. opposite of carpe diem. i don't want do this anymore.
When u find out what a ramekin is and hear it like five times in the next day and wonder if u never noticed and ask and turns out everyone u know knew what it was and u wonder how many things are common knowledge that somehow u don’t know
writing a novel about suicide. was thinking of suffering and pain and loss and to know it's not strength so much as laziness that's kept going. and that enormous hole of validation that needs fulfillment.
xmas poker? in the city on xmas be/c my relatives are unbearable. me and my best friend are chilling w/champgne and sarcasm. if you too happen to be share blood with people you can not be in the same room with hit me up.