Somber and ambling, I listen to music on earbuds while frolicking. I ride subways and spook people, whom I like in theory, but the sentiment is rarely reciprocated.
So, I compose novels and create art. And, yes, they're dark and summarily published in this very world. I'm a man; a renter; ambulatory; hate mustaches and hence clean-shaven; and have one foot in the quagmire, while the other is lost.
I love books and bizarre thoughts of other human beings, but only if brilliant.
Fiction (dark, literary, suicidal, hilarious); film (same as lit, but also occasionally with naked people); guffaws (although rare in occurrence); museums with contemporary art, better after hours when empty, but this leads to being arrested; ex-girlfriends; sleep; the opposite sex; other people's mamas.
I love everything and everyone. Yes, very much. Actually, I absorb the love of all beings so skillfully that it makes me ill, like with rare infections. They say I need to adopt objects and people to hate.
I am on the look out.
Runs the gamut from punk/post-punk, industrial, indie, hardcore, John Zorn, pre-industrial/electronic like Cabaret Voltaire and Suicide, and the organ music at Catholic midnight mass. Oh, Matt Elliot is fantastic.