Extraterrestrial Priapism b/w Alien Sex Panic, by Unidentified Fucking Object.

Inaction today suggests scant promise of resistance tomorrow.

The fiction of intersubjectivity just makes me sleepy.

: sigh : It’s just one more thing that I do or don’t want, or whatever.

A role by any other name would smell as foul

I’m too old to waste time reading books that don’t change my life, even though it’s too late for them to do anything about me.

Falling and beauty are synonymous, and when they’re not they should be.

I looked in the mirror and cried uncontrollably because I couldn’t start screaming.

I looked in the mirror and screamed uncontrollably because I couldn’t start crying.

Having an identity is equivalent to worshipping the State.