oh, i am flying to istanbul.

One bad trip apparently holds more weight than losing the best person that has ever been in your life. Kiss my sharries, O my brother.

"i'm gonna give my aimless love / my angry heart / my desire"

I really don't have anything else to say. Except Ham on Rye by Bukowski was seriously one of the best works I've ever read, strictly stylistically, and the story clearly embodied the very words written. Love. Do read. I have a copy if anyone wants to share. Next on the hit parade is Catcher in the Rye, but only because if I don't I'll be some sort of literari outcast. I'm not even looking forward to it simply because of the ridiculous mainstream affectation. Whatever. Then Doctor Zhivago, the great Red novel. Thank God I'll be back to things I'll have to actually think about.

helping.

My life has become a general conglomeration of a few different aspects: reading either Clockwork Orange or something by Bukowski; listening to Born Ruffians and whatever comes on Pandora, I seem to have the ability to fall in love with all of it; feeling absolutely useless; considering different ways to fix the current situation; writing pieces; stressing over nothing--as in seriously nothing.

If you would just see that I'm right, this would be much easier.

Oh. And while we're at it. I'm really tired of not being important. So if we could work on that, that would be great. Really just peachy. Thanks.