but there's no hook in my gut

i would like to tell you that i've been too busy to post lately, or that my mind has at least been engaged in more stimulating activities, but i wouldn't have you believe any such nonsense.

the long island summer baits your line with wild fantasies of carefree living, revolutionary ease of the social life, and spontenaeity on a level that could almost reassure you of your own imagination. inevitably, one of these squirming temptations prompts you to bite in, to chomp down with soaring anticipation, but to feel, instead, the sharp pains of responsibility, isolation, and drudgery barbing themselves through your cheek. my mouth is ruined; my voice is silenced. in this tank of concentrated consumerism, i wear nice clothes to fend off my mental alienation, i read non-fiction literature to fend off my mental stagnation.

shit, i've got to get ready for work.

homemade

today i crafted shoes:

they may be ugly; i may just love them.