Beginning

A standard by which I have no true friends.

According to studies, you swallow one of your teeth in your sleep once every six years, and if that sounds insane, that’s because it is, and you’re caught in a vortex of timeless, violet haze. Go towards the ocarina.

Okay. First post in nine months. Powering up, zoop zoop zoop, finding voice, arranging fingers over keyboard, launching Spotify. Ready for takeoff! And we’re live in five, four, three, two-

Sun’s out, winter is nearly over. Somewhere in the East, war commences. The more things change, eh?

Listen, I won’t go on about worldly wisdom. I’ve lived too briefly to be giving out life advice and just long enough to know that advice should only be given when it’s asked for. But on this one, you’re going to have to trust me: If the most beautiful woman in the world asks you to dance, dance.

When I was younger, I’ve always wondered when older people began worrying about their birthdays.

As this January comes to an end, the word counter hasn’t moved by an inch, and that’s because it’s been a bloody long January this time around.

Today was another harsh day in a rather harsh January, further certifying my theory that winter is generally quite shit. Winter is all about maintenance, which gets tiresome when you’re not particularly enthusiastic about what you’re maintaining.

All the confused twentysomethings out there, drink me in! Observe my shoes! Do I strike you as somebody who has anything figured out?