i am sick of myself. sick of my words. but if i don’t write what else will i do with all this fucking junk that accumulates inside of me day in and day out?
this blog with its steel cool look, cool pictures, excerpts laden with meaning and quotes that supposedly mirror my feelings in all its glorious morbidity and intense depth… is just my personal trashcan.
so welcome to the garbage of my life. please feel free to peruse and take all you want. just the way i do with life. all its beauty and ugliness, all its muck. all its sickness of heart, poverty of soul and its devoid smiles and put it together in some semblance of coherence and dish it out as ‘writing’. writing that some enjoy, delve into momentarily, retreat in disgust from, throw themselves into, seek salvation in, take inspiration from and even ridicule. disaster, both personal and those of others, makes for great reading.
selling my stories, selling the words of others, selling myself. you’re welcome to all of it. and that my friends, is what wordwhoring is all about.