hmcraft: Noun. The act of pleasuring oneself to the the point of climax in an effort to delay productivity.
The Sleeping Game, 2012
Just got into a 3 week empty bed. The cold feels damp even through my clothes. The computer heats up my thighs and the farm girls wave their asses in the air.
There was a man standing on the platform of the E train, not just preaching loudly but he was shouting along with a group of supporters yelling amen every other sentence. As usual I was hungover and angry and not in the mood for religion so I began to daydream about standing up on the bench and start yelling something myself: “Being alive is a difficult and complex prospect. The world is...
I helped facilitate an enviroment for a late night...
-I’m drunk, like every Friday. -haha -I need pussy, just today, but it just didn’t work out that way. I’ll be fine this time tomorrow. -Don’t use that word -Right now it sucks balls, ok. vagina. -You will survive man -I will certainly die a gruesome death tonight. -HAHA -No man can survive a 6 day period without.. -Yes you can -I’m devouring, into thin...
If you don’t like me I am either incompetent or unlovable. If I do something with brash abandon, it’s got to be good. There is nothing sadder than confidence and a shitty product. Things done with too much insight and reasoning are boring. If I ask for your opinion, the hardest thing to deal with is when you don’t say anything interesting. When I ask if it’s ok,...
It happened all the time. I rode my bike to the studio everyday. Almost everyday where the road intersected the bike path, a car would come whizzing along. If they got close enough to where my body seized up a bit in fear, it would launch me into one of two fantasies. 1. I see the car coming, and as soon as I realize it’s not going to stop I place my foot on the middle beam of the bike,...
The F train has a stop on 63rd street and Lexington and I think it’s the deepest subway station I have been in. I will traverse the 4 or 5 escalators down to my train, but when I get home I like to take the elevator up. It can be a frightening wait; sometimes that thing is broken, but it’s always better than standing on escalators going up, and who am I fucking kidding, I am certainly...
I ruined the inside of my nose. It keeps scabbing and blocking up and bleeding. It hurts and itches, and I try to leave it alone, but its so satisfying to clear. The meditation of the moment of breath is completed with pain. It’s a reminder, like a urinary tract infection, of what I have done to myself, for better or worse.
I'm not down with OPP.
When I was a sophomore in college in New Orleans, my friend and I got picked up by the Orleans Parish police. I asked my friend Rob to try to recollect what happened, and I did the same. Here are our two different versions. (FYI: my nickname was Kitty and our other friend’s nickname was Squeezil.) Rob: The memories preserved in my noggin are most likely severely addled, but here goes. We...