you’re just bitter because you think you’re so great but you don’t have an audience—and that’s the thing. the most fucked up thing. is that you want attention WAY MORE than ‘girls’…HBO…fucking…thought catalog…whatever…the things you think people just make for attention. or that no, you think you’re DESERVING of attention. like, a smarter kind of attention. because your ‘art’ is better, because you don’t make it for attention, which is why you think anyone who gets attention for art must’ve made it, but you don’t even make it anymore because we’re all too stupid to like ‘appreciate’ it, because you don’t want people to read something by you and think ‘any idiot could say that’ and forget you, you want them to think ‘not just any idiot could say that, wow, will i ever be the same again? will the world?’ it’s the same thing. attention. that is so idiotic, especially factoring in other shit you say about meaninglessness and…goddamnit. i’m drunk. what i’m saying right now is not accurate. can hear music from his ipad. i’m abusing liveblog. just heard him say ‘STOPPPPP,’ from bedroom. makes me want to make more typing sounds type more sdkjsd sdfj osdijf osos os jduiu fosidoi fl s dsoi s di fid jjjdf osih ih hdjdjd hjiffd kjdkdk fkd k dkf dkfjsldfjsoj sk jd f dijf so ij sd fos difj oijdfoi ii j oisd fo oijd id fijoijoid di id di oijoijoisjdfoij ij idjfidjifjdosif oisjoidfjsodifj oij sd oijijifdfd d d d shd oiio„„, dddd sdfjdsio sos jsodifjsoifj s ddjfdifj osdijfs dd d e ejskjdohf s d df os s dnf s doihfoid sliek i am fsell soinf sit sodesnt matter i’sms just typing this gto make him angry because he io = ois think ih e no want no hear typy etype tyepetype!!!!!!!!

2:34AM: he g-chatted in ambiguously friendly manner about finishing the movie. maybe i’m misreading something. this has been a major disagreement, like, an argument we have repeatedly. there is no reason for me to be here. no matter how many jokes we make…like…i don’t know. still going to feel bad, to be around someone who thinks like this, and that things i’ve written, or things i want to say…is…that basically my experience of life is ‘bad art.’ drunk. ranting. going to my car to smoke a non-judgmental cigarette.

2:39AM: feels bad out here, alone over here. 1504 north 4th street. philadelphia. nothing to do but this. type into a computer. fear getting cigarettes because if the guy in the room next to you hears you walk outside, he’ll think you’re leaving ‘for good.’ you’ll have to say ‘no i just want to get cigarettes,’ when you don’t want to say anything or do anything ever, at all. the end. i liked watching ‘the fighter,’ though.