As more and more people I knew filled Perkins last night, I chanced across the idea that if I stayed long enough I would meet myself. Eternal return for me means finding myself again and again in the same coffee shops and Perkins. If I am always in Perkins and always returning, on an infinite time scale my visits and returns are bound to overlap. One day at theoretical Perkins I will arrive to meet all past and future versions of myself along with every ex-lover. We are all each other's exes. My connections only exist because I exist to perceive them.

When it rains I become drenched in metaphor.

I have much to get sorted this summer and much more that will be left undone.

Tonight marks my 13th and final performance of Julius Caesar. I have a newfound respect for the music of Pink Floyd, and my opinion of UMD's student newspaper continues to fall. “Unfortunately, strong acting and impressive sets cannot make a bad script into a good play.”

Holy hell, no wonder I never post. I am writing utter gibberish. I am going to go workshop my thought process for a few years and get back to you.


Mistakenly paraphrased from “every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness,” but unnecessary is long and would not have fit anyway. When I say my sources are questionable I mean derivative. Apologies to Milan Kundera and Art Spiegelman.

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