dreamed up honeycombs and doorjambs last night. have been out of town. visited a nice institution called book soup and spent all my money on litmags. missed david lynch by two days. was distressed by this. there was a display for david lynch coffee cups (see below) built by david lynch and his son. witnessed an aristocrat car crash outside this institution. took photographs of graffiti warning of robot invasion. stopped and asked a star map vendor how to get to alpha centauri. have cultivated an obsession with this american life. and anything else within three degrees of separation from philip glass. will have the place to myself for 9 days. debauchery, voodoo orgies, pyromania, reading will follow. still need to submit things. still feel insecure about them. have an interview soon. self-induced neurosis. will submit things after the interview. a fuller maybe or more patient maybe return to literary themes will follow after 24 hours.
good words lately:
toast by darby larson at keyhole. the way i love this is by cutting with scissors a hole in the bottom of my heart. not sure how else to make room for the infinite. read this now.
barry graham's minimize me; i'd be terrible in ex cathedra, page 71. holy fuck.
new pank. ethel rohan, xtx, ricky garni, more goodness.
new clockwise cat. eric beeny, adam moorad, luis cuauhtemoc berriozabal, peycho kanev, more goodness.
new jmww. justin sirois, jac jemc, james iredell, meg pokrass, j.a. tyler, non-stop train of goodness.
eat hell by joseph mattson from narrow books. a $5 injection of goodness. a bonus being how infernally tasty is its wallpaper.
i need to re-learn how to speak and shake hands and say positive things about myself. not sure why these behaviours are encouraged.