i had this whole other post and decided it was too personal. it’s almost 6 and i gave up trying to sleep about an hour ago. i want to buy a few more presents tomorrow, do some yoga, and catch the holiday train. (fact: i love trains. especially the older nyc trains with the orange seats and no annoying robot voices and red lights. i love that silence.)
i chipped my tooth yesterday. not sure how and now i keep touching and licking it when no one’s around.
i read some of this book that’s been hailed as genius when it’s actually kind of shitty. i feel like a lot of times people are so bowled over by honest writing that the need to say it’s good overpowers any other criticisms.
i put it down and bought Chicken by David Henry Sterry instead. crude, colorful, blunt, painful, hilarious; my favorite kind of writing. i’d highly recommend it to anyone who wants to read stuff by a sex worker and doesn’t mind crass and ugly words. it also made me want to reread Jesus’ Son by Denis Johnson. i’ve probably read that book over 200 times in 6 years, no joke. if anyone knows any writing by queer people that’s similar i’d love to hear recommendations.
i’m realizing with all the journal entries i’ve written in 4 years i could’ve made books. little cruddy ones, maybe just for personal reading, but still. i’d have to go through the stuff i wrote on menus, napkins, sandwich bags, and 3 different blogs to get them right.
pulling sleep into my lungs soon.