hello world



Four books found abandoned in a stack:

Love: An Unromantic Discussion, Evans

Romantic Passion, Jankowiak

Loneliness: The Fear of Love, Tanner

The Nature of Melancholy, Radden 

To be a writer you basically have to have every psychiatric disorder in the DSM, but in a mild form that allow you to continue functioning pretty ok.

Sometimes I have a problem and I treat it like a foreign object and think a sort of thick-celled callus around it and leave it there in me.

Sometimes I have a problem and it does not feel like a particle or a knot so I feel I have to turn over all the parts of me, to take each old bit out and replace it with a new one just like it, but unaffected, the way a body replaces itself completely, on a cellular level, every seven years.

When I do the latter, I feel newer and newer, but I also feel a sort of fatigue from the effort.  And I know that a thing is not infinitely replaceable, but that the parts run out.  And then I get this feeling like I will reach an end-form early, and when I reach it there will be no new form to take, and I will be that one way from then on, tired and alright and with no thing in particular that I know to fear or worry.


Half the time I feel like I am trying to ride a raccoon bareback, the other half I feel like I am trying to ride a T-Rex or maybe a cloud.  

I remain the same size, etc.

This song sounds like a handful of classic pop hits put into a blender with a bunch of bananas and blended into a delicious icy shake!


I’m good at petting dogs, but not very good at petting cats.  This is to say that the rate and pacing of my petting, the different forms that I have in my petting toolbox seem to make dogs pretty happy/content/apathetic, but the same techniques translated to cats make cats apathetic/irritated/leave.  I can make a cat happier in general if I pet it in long steady strokes pressing down firmly on the cat-body, but this is boring for me.  

The kind of petting I enjoy giving is not the kind cats enjoy receiving. Insofar as I believe anything is innate, I’m kind of willing to believing that petting preferences, and the species they complement, are innate. You can pet anything, theoretically, and I can’t help but wonder if there’s something out there that’s perfectly suited to be petted by me.

Let’s crunch some data:

DOG PETTING KITTEN: This looks uncomfortable, and only asymmetrically fun. Dogs lack the motor control to successfully pet something smaller than themselves?

HAND PETTING FOX: I would give up on petting this fox.

MAN PETTING SHARK: This has a date-rape vibe.

HUMANS PETTING CAPYBARAS: This looks nice, but maybe a little monotonous. Their round shapes look pleasing. These animals have a good attitude towards being petted.

DOG PETTING DOG: Question mark.


"Can you see that she is perfectly suited to her life?  The glory of watching her claw through dresses at the Express is the glory of watching a shark cut through water with its dead dead eyes, chomping larger and smaller prey with little to no effort.  You get the sense that, eons from now, thousands of species having been extinguished and come into being, she will be doing the same things as ever, drinking Diet Coke and trying on hand creams and looking straight forward with her dead dead eyes."


"If you’re male, someone can use sex to make you do something you don’t want to do with your life.  If you’re female, someone can use your life to make you do something you don’t want to do with sex."


Funny, nothing else on the internet or in my real life has compelled me to break my tumblr silence.  But these guinea pigs are really something!

Forget the rat race, please liken my life and career to a guinea pig race!