HK Blog

So I'm discovering that Big Pink has become a sort of church for me. That's fine I guess. I like dancing. I really like dancing. How could you not like dancing? I love dancing. I also love accidently elbowing short people in the face and saying sorry 45 times in one night. Its a shame that my twin prefers Spotlite because Spotlite makes me... nervous. The people who go there are really good people, they all have salaries and mortgage their houses. These are Dennis Archer's people. I'm being really mean, I'll stop. Spotlite is good. If I had to go to a club with friends that dont go to clubs, I'd go to Spotlite. Bleu is NOT good. Its a fake club. Its a front for a Mossad sleeper cell. Im calling it. I do not want a SECTION! I WANT ROOM TO DANCE! I would take a friend to Bleu if we weren't really friends and I kind of wanted to watch them attempt to dance within the centimeter of space they'll have available in a really vindictive, machiavellian way. Or ma...

At this time of night, the ceiling is grey. I see light emanating from my phone onto the duvet covering me, and to my eyes, it is grey. It's at times like these I appreciate a lack of color. I dream of a grim isolation. It's ironic that I feel a fondness for that now. I used to have privacy, and I used to have calm. I don't believe I am entitled to their graces anymore. I miss choices, I miss confidence. I miss taking my time with things. I miss patience. I miss the malaise of Sunday. I miss forgiveness. I miss when things were grey. I miss when I could let my heart slow down. I miss calm. I have so dearly missed being able to love myself. I tried to read Critique of Pure Reason. It makes me sad. I'm not allowed any synthesis. I am commanded, controlled by commitment. I have no self. I read that book and I see everything I am not. It's so pathetic. It's not even supposed to be that kind of book. I don't feel comfortable with my body. I don't want to have...

I could never play team sports. I get yelled at once and I feel like ripping open a suicide vest. Whatever. I'm still not feeling happy with my life right now, so I'm not going to write a lot of stuff today. I don't think it's very pleasant to read that sort of venting. My feet hurt from work, and walking with nowhere to sit. I couldn't get into the gf's apartment for hours after I got off work and every building was closed. This is what I get for relying on others. I asked my parents for $20, so I could afford Gas tommorow. I felt so ashamed. They gave me 40. I've only very recently started asking my parents for anything. I spent several months refusing to ask for help. I would have one meal a day for a long time because of my living situation. I don't want to live here anymore. I am tired of being here. I don't want to make myself beholden to somebody else's schedule and time. I am tired of empathy. I don't want to have everybody else's...

Every day that I'm outside, in the summer heat, it pops into my head. I remember how Nico died. Just riding her bike. I think about how painful that must have been. The incredible sensation of it. I think of how quickly it must have stolen the joy from everyone that loved her. I've been thinking about the social, communal impact of dying, a lot. That's not very special. It's the same old shit. I'm honestly tired of being sad and mopey. It's so boring, isn't it? Depression is really a trite sort of affliction, it's exhausting to hear about. Stop being such a toddler and eat your vegetables, you know? It's like in American Werewolf in London, where Jack is telling David, "You ever talked to a corpse? It's boring! I'm lonely!" I can't believe John Landis was ever allowed to breathe air. I think he should have been turned into dog treats for that Twilight Zone thing, with the children and the helicopter blades. I still try to talk t...

I missed his call. He never said whether he would call me again today, or if he'd be available. I don't like this. I tried linking up with the boys on the weekend, but they're still in the thick of it. Working stiffs, all of us. And y'know, because we're all working class kids, none of us get to lie down. I really wanna lie down. I have dreams about everyone. I feel like I'm never gonna forget. I was watching Fire Walk With Me on my phone while all the kids were in the computer lab. There were some small issues today with one of em, but that's confidential. As long as we dont have to send 'em home, it's a good day. I keep thinking about how Donna was talking to Laura about her thing with James. How revealing she was of her true feelings, even if she didn't know she felt that way yet. And Sheryl Lee is such a great actress, that bizarre emotion of knowing isn't overplayed on her face. She only says enough to acknowledge Donna's yearning. W...

Frontloading Update on what I look like! I've gotten... REALLY skinny. Maybe I'm just used to being unsuitable for swimwear modeling. That picture of me in the red coat... I look like a fucking gremlin. God. No wonder my parents wanted to kick me out.  My neck still does that  and I'm deciding it is not good to have body dysmorphia so I will be Ignoring. It. Last thing: I'm saving up to get my hair did. I WILL ( spelled double you eye ell ell ) post face when that happens. This was so weird but I loved it! I might have the taste of wild boar. DRANK MAN, PLEASE! IM THIRSTY! IM READY, IM TRYNA POUR UP! I got too tipsy I was gonna call him I- Let's be adults. This cake... this shit busted inside and ghosted me, nigga. On some real shit. But enough about yesterday... Here's the main event: The Meat Seeing old friends, it's a bittersweet feeling. In every meeting after an age, it...

I think that it's easier to imagine it as a symptom that goes in and out. This might be the healthiest way to look at it. It's an irritant I'll be able to compartmentalize. My throat still hurts. I think from screaming. I still didn't send Loopy that segment of me screaming. I'll get on that. I have a suspicion I failed my drug test. I might be out of a job, whatever. My current forecast for the FFB is that I don't think anybody is gonna come. Which might be good cause I can't afford the beer and snacks yet. This current project, you know, it's getting harsher. I've got an entirely new sort of sound I've made on this one. I'm not a songwriter, I'm not a storyteller, but I like talking. This is gonna be an allllll day post. I'll continue writing through the hours... KICK THE BALL! God, I love this song. It's hard to balance the scratches and distress of that real hip-hop stuff. I love it, so much. That's the...