So the (perhaps post-hoc) rationale was that I wasn't there to pick-up on women, I was there to hang out with my cousins.

…left in 2007. Where does the time go?

I really find this song haunting. And fitting, as the memories of this last summer and the summers gone before blow away upon the wind of smoke.

This song seems curiously apt with regards to the thoughts flowing through my head in the last 48 hours or so. This song actually reminds me of those days when the evil resident was raping my soul and somehow it ties everything together and closes the loop.

is it sharp?
is it burning?
is it constant?
is it intermittent?

My interpretation of a mathematical theory of karma:

This song is by Pedro Gil, whom I ended up watching a few months ago.

I was watching “I Heart Huckabees” and dug the simplified dichotomy of relentless interconnection and infinite meaning versus eternal alienation and complete senselessness. The main character rightly discovers that one cannot exist without the other, and that both simultaneously operate. In essence, it was Taoism redux. There is no life without death, no creation without destruction, and all that jazz.

I’ve been living by myself for two years now, and I think it’s starting to wear on my soul. In the past, I’ve at least had roommates (despite the fact that I have wanted some of them arrested and/or shot by the cops) and this ensured a minimal amount of human contact.

I usually know better than to hinge my hopes on someone else being around, and yet I still hoped that I’d get to hang out with [redacted] this weekend. Wishful thinking as usual.

It is exquisitely subtle, but there is indeed an autumn in Southern California. Despite the fact that the highs are still in the 70s, the evenings feel pretty chilly. Like sweatshirt or light jacket chilly.

Back in the Bay Area. I’m like a ghost sifting through memories trapped in amber. I figure that I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life, but maybe that won’t be for very long. But trust is a prerequisite for love, so that’s clearly not going to happen. Having too much time on my hands is a good way for me to get into trouble. After seven years, the sting is starting to wear off, but it still stings. The less you have, the more you worry you’ll lose it.

More sophistry and philosophy. I guess I really am depressed. ECT, here I come.

What lone salvation might I find
among these ruined, shattered hopes?
All happiness, I've left behind
upon the lonely mountain's slopes.
Despair, despair, and misery
is all that lives within my mind.
Without her love, I cannot flee
from sorrow's grasp, depression's bind,
and I must sink into the earth
and taste the bitter nothingness
No merriment, happiness, joy, or mirth;
instead is only emptiness.
My wish has failed, my dream has died.
I cannot count the tears I've cried.