I’ve had one of those weeks that makes you want to curl up and hibernate. All the recountings of Christopher Columbus’s hateful legacy on the internet, watching my writing/poetry/career prospects shrivel toward death, the sudden realization that I am sick to death of New York, and an ongoing incursion of unwanted six-legged home visitors (read: roaches) has done me in. And anyway, it’s about that time of year, and I think it’s about time we have a new Workers Revolution, demanding pay and benefits for four months of holing up in our apartments with a supply of grilled cheese and tomato soup and watching bad TV on Netflix. I’m too exhausted (a week of on-and-off insomnia) and in too much pain (also a week of escalating rheumatoid arthritis flare) to be the ringleader, so you guys just let me know when that kicks in, mmkay? I’ll be at home trying to discourage said home visitors and making art.
I mean, hell, Danny Wylde is retiring from porn. His reasons are sound and I’m happy he’s doing the best thing for his health, but like… Woah. Where do we go from here? It can only be down, folks. I’m in that kinda mindset.
Sigh. Anyway, in lieu of the world being fair or tolerable, let’s just try to keep ourselves afloat, shall we? I’ll be posting on here now and then to keep myself afloat, y’all, but I think my output will be thinning out in the coming months. I’m going to post some photos and scans of my artwork, which I’ll be making. I’ll still be publishing at Luna Luna and anywhere else that will have me, but right now… I gotta do me.