Today I wrote the perfect sentence. I edited it. Then I deleted it.

I miss friends

Doing drugs in the nightclub restroom stall in my mind.

The tangible viscosity of regret.

You okay, wasteland?

Indie lit likes the smell of its shit.

Real Bars dadakuku.com/2026/07/06/real…

I can see this going pear-shaped fast.

Ever write a book and then hate it and then like it?

Sometimes I feel.

Fuck you, motivational water bottle.

I miss you before I have even left.

Wrote a story in complete old school vernacular, not one word in the modern dictionary. Either the stupidest thing I have done or the brightest.

Ate what looks like bat’s testicles and lived to tell the tale, also they were delicious.

Got a new story up today on Paragraph Planet. Let’s hope it happens, thanks to the editor Richard from @paragraphplanet

My bowels are foul.

Damp tissues

Nothing quite beats that just pooped feeling.

I am vincible.