I think it's curiosity more than anything that has kept me alive this long.

Perversion

I need to come to terms with the fact that I'm a pervert. I have certain urges: to spit on paintings, to jump on subway tracks, to say precisely the wrong thing—in short, to transgress. And, of course, there's sex, which is a strange arena where transgression is sometimes encouraged, sometimes treated with disgust, sometimes horror. For an atheist, I have a curiously Catholic bent to my sexuality. I can't fulfill all my urges, but there must be a healthier way to think about them.

I've returned to Arab Strap, which might not say great things about the place I find myself in.

Reading

There exists, for me, a certain anxiety associated with the translation of text to thought, and vice versa. It plagues me intermittently.