I could have a beer, but I'll just have a water. I guess both are keeping me alive just as well, though.

You know, there's not much to living. Do what you can when it's got to be done. I had a really good bagel today. Asiago cheese, that French stuff, and some veggie cream cheese. Real swell. A bit too much coffee on the side though. I make my own in a French press in the morning. I do this in order to dissuade myself from buying more during the day. But, sure enough, there I am buying some more.

Perhaps the secret of writing is just saying stuff that you'll never regret saying...

You see, there I go again, trying to perch myself above the rest. I have no theories to offer. Nothing I can say could ever resonate so well that I could take the wheel of your soul. I can trick you with a narrative of some sort, but you're smart; you see through that shit. So, let's put it all on the line:

The world is filled with rotton people. As a matter of fact, I've seldom met any good ones. To me, life is a series of being lonely and being occupied. Sometimes the phone rings, other times you sit there staring at it. Other times still you feel it ringing and you just can't stand being bothered, so you ignore it. In any circumstance you're never fully satisfied with your phone situation, because you're never quite happy with where you are. Through it all, all of the fleeting good times, you take time to consider that you've probably never really been loved, and if you have, you treat it as if it is nothing more than a heap of dog shit.

That's all the theory I can offer. I can't give a political forecast. I can't tell you how glorious any particular writer is. None of that encompasses my personal identity. I'm no politician. I'm an awful English major. I know it sounds bitter and ugly. It is bitter and ugly. I am bitter and ugly.