Fiction

My passion, my life, is devoted to self-loathing. A bubbling hatred and anxiety of myself, and packaged for myself. You should try it. It's fun. But when I need to get away for a while, you know, take a break, I like to spend time writing about my my self-loathing. Included here are the sporadic pieces that have come from such sessions. Most are not finished, or polished, or published. Most will never be. Just another thing to learn to love about me.

Untitled

"And don't think I don't know. That I don't appreciate what you feel or what you're going through. That's what makes it hurt more. But I can't share you. I can't. You've got your things, but, I just can't. I can't be watching that. It's just -- it hurts too much."

Scenes From an Italian Coffee House

This here is a script I began writing as way back as the summer of 2003. It has made a few appearances in this place, and has various incarnations.

Thoughts on socks

I've heard all sorts of ladies saying all sorts of stupid things like how you can tell a lot about a man you're dealing with just by looking at his shoes, or something like that.

Members fight for privledges

In all seriousness, I went to the parliament to see how well the governmental process actually worked. If you've only based your opinions on quality network news coverage here, then you have no idea how dire the situation really is.

Untitled

Now that I think back on my life and my regrets, I wonder what I could have been if I had just stopped to take a breath every once and a while.

I can make your heart beat short

As with any rush job, these tiny little oversights began to work their way out of the woodwork, you know, so to speak. As best I can figure, the big guy decided to clean up the mess he made by appointing me head custodian.

Untitled

But you always pause as the words back up and jumble in your head like a rush hour. And their contained meanings are foreign to you. They escape you like I will, when I walk from your view.

Mr Fuckin' Houdini

Thursday night was the night I knew that things would never work out between Kathy and I. Conclude what you will about that, but the magic I hear everyone talking about just wasn't there.

Several untitled

Imagine for a minute that you are an amateur artist. Now, think about how you look at supply magazines, and how you long for the premium hues of paint -- quality that far surpasses your mini collection of learn to paint a landscape tubes

Melon

Now let's get something straight. Right here. Right now. You know? Square it off just you and me. I'm not in the business of making friends here. Never have. Never will. It's no use to me