This must be what going mad feels like

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

What the fuck, everybody.

seriously.

Dear fucking god. Dear sweet fucking god. I haven't slept in 34 hours, it hurts to breathe, my tounge is all swollen and crazy, the insides of my mouth are all chewed to shit, every joint in my body aches, i haven't eaten anything in like 2 days, i've got the worst drymouth in history and no amount of drinking seems to help, and i don't have any fucking idea where in god's name my pants went.

I have had a fantastic day.

Dear The Internet,
So here i am in a coffee shop in Berkely, and even though every time i turn around i smell pot, not a fucking soul here seems willing to tell me where i can get a damn dub. However, i did get blown out of my mind with a bunch of hippies in Golden Gate Park yesterday, so thats cool. They've got such fucking fantastic weed here like you would not believe. I bought a dime from the cutest little hippie chick. she was all of 5 feet tall and had dreads down to her butt. i need to come back to this city without my mom eventually, because it's definitly one of the coolest places i've ever been. The Haight is basically everything i imagined it to be, and even the lame touristy crap is pretty cool. Alcatraz was gnarly, and the view from Coit Tower is fucking breathtaking. Seriously, who's down for a road trip in like 6 months? I want to hit up the music scene and go fuck around Haight-Ashbury without the knowlege that my mother is only a ittle ways away.

Despite that constant knowledge though, this place is fucking fantastic. Lets all move here.

I feel like my stomach is drenched in sulfuric acid, my joints are creaking and my hands are shaking, I can feel very distinctly the space between my brain and my eyes, I'm amazingly aware of the lack of moisture in my body as a whole and my mouth in particular, I have an eye in my forehead, I keep being surprised that people are things that exist and sometimes say things, my throat is raw and burning but I'm still smoking a cigarette and it's making it way worse, I think my lungs have actually just fucking killed themselves, probably a triple suicide based on the fact that I think my liver shot itself in itself, and I just have this constant sensation of teetering over the edge of a bridge with pianowire wrapped around my kneck and my hands glued to my head.

I think I may have at last glimpsed the horrifying utopia populated only by Keith Richards and a band of wandering gypsies.

I bet this is how William Burroughs felt all the time.

OK

We get two people

We get a really, really long coat

We stack the people

We put the coat on them

We stand outside the Republican National Convention

Yelling: "Welcome, from the World's Tallest Republican!"

i have had the greatestest day fucking ever today! Now, some would argue that that shouldnt be, but i went to a parade and ran around and did a bunch of fucking awesome things today, and i remembered how cool everything is when you are not retarded by being completely retarded! YAY FOR ME

seriously, best day

Life is fucking ridiculous. All of it, it's just goofy. It's completely meaningless and essentially empty, which means it's up to the individual to find meaning, but here "find" really just means "make up", and how can any meaning made up by a person have any extrinsic meaning? I mean, yeah, i can claim to find meaning in love and art and things like that, but these things don't really have any meaning in and of themselves, only meaning i assign them, which means i could just as easily find meaning in hatred and bitterness and general disagreeability, and who can really claim that that's worse? The sheer absurdity in assuming any perspective is better than any other perspective is staggering. I literally just fell over because of it. Nothing really matters. As an instinctual animal, of course, i can't help but feel like self-preservation is a plus, but mentally i cannot honestly say that it matters more than anything else.

And more than just the meaninglessness of life, the fact that it's meaningless just makes it terrifying. I, the, by my estimation, exact center of the universe, am not important. I exist for, if "lucky", 80 some years, and then i simply cease to exist. Poof. Cumulative experience, thoughts, consciousness, the whole of my perceptions, gone. God that's scary. God that's depressing.

Ennui sucks.

Addendum, later: While I don't particularly disagree with any of this, i really can't believe what an angsty bitch i can be sometimes. I either need to start sleeping or stop thinking, preferably both.

It is actually sort of remarkable how a whole day of brain shattering tranquility can be completely ruined within a half an hour. Seriously, what the fuck

Dude, i have had such a fucking good weekend. Like, a lot of the time i hate life. i'm a whiny, argumentative, cynical, disagreeable person. but right now, i am just in total bliss. i have such an amazing 48 hours that i don't even care how much the world sucks. I love Saint Patrick's Day, and i love P.O.S, and i love all my friends, and i love Jesus Christ Superstar, and i love being drunk, and i had all of those things happening all weekend and it's just been sweet as fuck.

I'm seriously considering not giving up on existence.