when i said dead revolver i probably meant a strange, big moon, but perhaps it more appropriately means a missing libido. whatever that's good for. not making babies, i guess.

i've spent the greater part of my creative side turning all these shortcomings and failures into some grand narrative a meaningless existence. i no longer know what i'm looking for, nor do i know what i'm creating. more failure and insecurity.

i wish i had an artist girl that would paint pictures of me all the time. i'd watch her paint, cos that's what i like to do; there would be lots of fornication.
and oil paints.
i think that'd be a step closer to perfection. i'm a buffoon.