There are times when you just want to go up to no one in particular, and say, “Fuck you and the nutsack that held nightmare-you for x amount of time,” even if, and perhaps especially when, the eventual target is your own face.

1. A well to do woman hosts an orgy that gets gate crashed by a vanilla couple (I just want to be included).
2. A boy is seduced by his ex-girlfriend’s hot mom on the Fourth of July (I’m facing my fear of MILFs).

The

Idol said

Taking risks is the most important

Thing an artist can do

She wears those sharp button downs, tucked into pants with riding boots, and a blunt bob. Sometimes, even, a tie. Knotting, unknotting, re-knotting in the smudged dorm mirror, how many tries does it take to get right?

The first fries I had when I was a kid weren’t from McDonald’s but from The Odeon.

waking up with
the desire to lay here
to look around the room
and notice things

What does a lifetime of loneliness look like, feel like in the body? Athena Dixon examines this question in her second book, The Loneliness Files, published by Tin House, and edited by one of my

The first man is the only one that kills you.

—COLETTE, La Naissance du Jour

Who is Angel? Who am I.

Have you ever loved a mirror?

Laughed, on suicide watch, until Kool-Aid spilled

Is my dick the one getting off in a peanut can?

What most people don’t know is that most of your town butchers are on some kind of pill, powder, or liquid, to get them through the day. 

I have a dream, after selling this book, someone asks me what it’s about. I explain and they say,  So, the narrator is still pining after Finn? They put emphasis on the word ‘still.’

Ethan had saved $100,000 for his trip. I had $8,000.

Internet celebrity Melissa Broder’s third novel is what one Goodreads user accurately deemed an “existential horny cactus western.”

What a relief. They brought the dregs up
from the lost and found, a little respite for us all.

I

am the only man to come to Las Vegas w/an ex-gf and not fuck her—arriving two nights early on my own to hike up in

Men are tyrants with their time; but women are tyrants with the eternal.

you might smell donkey and driver if the dung laced breeze blows up your nose as my body quivers with new found knowledge of time

I rotate my foot like a hot dog and I dare myself not to scratch. I let them land on collarbone skin, thighs, the sponge under my left eye. I’ve always been like this. I’ve always had small tits. You know what they call those.

i make prices 
i blend into aisles 
i am a bottle of stool softener 

Everyone worries about mind control.

Wafts of ancient loam and wet wood. He had viewed it all with sickening fascination, the swiftness with which something so solid could be torn asunder, cored completely.

I’ve always wanted someone to tell me what I want, to sell me on a life I want to live.

The summer she was without anyone

and I had just left the other girl

in Jersey City,

Molly and I kissed at her house. We were adults

who lived with our parents. She seemed like

He was too poor to erect an everlasting monument in her likeness, all he could afford were words.  

I’m trying to do this story to get Kim’s feelings out there, but there seems to be a lot of secrecy and rumors about her death as if people are ashamed of how she died instead of why she died…

half-empty gel pens used to spawn spiked poems