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I want to be alone and I want people to notice me - both at the same time

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Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed-interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three piece suit on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pissing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life. But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose something else. And the reasons? There are no reasons.

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It’s really hard to meet people you really admire. Super. You’re trying so hard to play it cool, and all you wanna do is like, “Man, when I heard that song you played..” I wanna do the same thing but I have to like, you have to suck it in, and just be like, “I don’t know. Yeah, whatever. I don’t care. We’re just hanging out, just two normal dudes, right?” Because then you’ll scare them away and they’ll think you’re crazy.

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If gay marriage affects your straight marriage obviously your marriage is pretty shitty to begin with.

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I pulled this gas tank from an old Chevy. I wanted to blow it up, so I did. What I didn’t think about was all the little bits of metal that were going to fly out in every direction. I almost killed myself. I woke up in this hospital and this doctor was like, “Son…” and I said “Don’t call me son, you fucking cunt.” And he was like, “You blew off your nut.” pause I just lost my nut, like that. I went fucking crazy. I assaulted a nurse or a doctor, I don’t really remember. I got arrested. I went to juvee. All I could think about was my fucking nut, man. I’m missing a nut. What am I going to do? I had to go looking for it, right? So I busted out of juvee and I went searching. I couldn’t find my nut. pause Well, there was this one night I was sitting there and I was taking a shit and I was looking at my balls and I was staring at this little piece of flabby sack where my left nut used to be. And then I saw my right nut for the first time. I was like FUCK MAN, MY NUT! Look I have one, I still have a nut. Right? It’s a good nut, it works. God or the fucking devil or whoever the fuck it is you know he left me with one good nut. I still have a fucking nut and it works. And my fucking dick works too. pause Okay, you lost your wife. And you lost your mom. I lost my nut.

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I think there is something beautiful in reveling in sadness. The proof is how beautiful sad songs can be. So I don’t think being sad is to be avoided. It’s apathy and boredom you want to avoid. But feeling anything is good, I think. Maybe that’s sadistic of me.

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Some people are old at 18 and young at 90; time is a concept that humans created.

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We were driving around in Los Angeles and a blink song came on. I said, ‘Check it out, blink-182 on the radio!’ and he said, ‘Yeah, that’s cool, but you’re not in my top three.’ He likes Metric, Vampire Weekend, and Silversun Pickups. He’s a bit of a little hipster.

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I don’t care what you think about me. I don’t think about you at all.

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The saddest kind of sad is the sad that tries not to be sad. You know, when Sad tries to bite its lip and not cry and smile and go, “No, I’m happy for you?” That’s when it’s really sad.

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When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.

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I like the moments right before I sleep. I come up with the greatest ideas and I imagine the coolest things. I picture old memories and happy times. I think of people I love and I think of the future. I don’t like the moments right before I sleep too though. I think of stuff that could have happened. I think of old memories, I think of sad times, I think of stuff that I regret, and I think of stuff that I wish I could change. I think of stuff the messes with my head, and it becomes hard for me to sleep. Those moments before you sleep are tricky.

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No I’m not gay,
No I’m not straight,
And I’m sure as hell not bisexual, damnit.
I am whoever I am when I am it,
Loving whoever you are when the stars shine
And whoever you’ll be when the sun rises.

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People are so fucking dumb. Nobody reads anymore, nobody goes out and looks and explores the society and culture that they were brought up in. People have attention spans of 5 seconds and as much depth as a glass of water.

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I don’t know where I’m going from here but I promise it won’t be boring.