I recently found an old Word file with over 300 pages of orphaned story fragments and my first novel. It’s over 228,000 of old memories, lost friends and enemies, and empty hallways that lead to no where. A lot of it is meant to stay in the dark, but some of it wants to go places. And until I figure out where they should go, this place will have to do…
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This is the part in the chronology where I become very bitter. It isn’t something that I plan for, but it’s something that can be expected. My perception is fundamentally about compensation; experience the pendulum and thrust yourself to the other side–the trick is to never settle in the center. When I’m feeling lonely, which is always, I must compensate by surrounding myself with others who are lonely. The easy thing to do is fall in love. But when I’m in love, which is always, I must compensate by ignoring its beauty.
Show me a god and I’ll show you a thousand ways to obscure his or her righteousness.
I understand how karma works because I tend to expect the world only to receive Delaware.
My happiness is like fucking with the devil – sooner or later, I’m going to seriously pay. And you can only remain in someone’s peripheral for so long before the lights come on.