even though i have three readers worldwide i may not stop blogging. i thought, why not a paper diary if no one reads it anyway, but i probably wouldn't do it, and it would be different, this isn't a diary, though i don't know what the flying fuck it is. as mister vonnegut says even though he's dead, so it goes.

angry dry tears

i wrote i have to find a way to die, but i reckon writing it is enough for now. first i have to find a way to walk.

i should do it for myself and not an abstract future but assuming a lonely old fucker can reach out in empty space and space will expand to allow if not embrace

i should just sit and shut up, fuck that, i'm gonna Bark!

i shouldn't be here. i'm in the wrong place. was i in the right place at the wrong time? on the island it was too soon. i would have been a suicide in paradise.

but three views? pathetic.

stop counting mister. it's obscesive. it's childish.

don't worry, we'll all be dead by the time the next statute of limitations runs out. no one will be listening but the wind.

i remember that guy above me in the converted janitor closet on pine grove, rolling his bowling ball in the morning, crying, oh, fuck!, ohhh, fuck!

in the secular world they say there's no evil only opportunity fucking liars evil is secular as well as religion.

it's nice not to know if something is bad, but not when you step in shit and bring it home.

ceramic dog thought of the day: there's so much evil! why!

you might say to yourself your karma was asking for it. harsh, but something must be asking for it, or is it just random, then is cause and effect, random?

anyway, at the end of the day, i think, why do i have to ponder evil all the time, and why so all alone?