I hope you hang yourself with your H&M scarf

while jacking off listening to Mozart
you bitch and moan about LA
wishing you were in the rain reading Hemingway…”

Still a good song.

On some real shit, I read like 74 pages of A Farewell to Arms today! WOO! I tried Milton for a couple days, but Paradise Lost is just not a beach book. Besides, I kinda hate myself whenever I pick it up for being so goddamn pretentious.

Bah. I honestly never want to leave here. It’s so beautiful, I love the ocean. This morning it was overcast, and the weather’s been strange all day. Right now the blue sky is partially obscured by ethereal mists, the sun a white blot of dulled radiance – it’s so lovely it’s breaking my heart, making me wish I never had to go to college or live anywhere but beside the sea in a limitless July.

Please, please, can this just be real life? Can I somehow convince everyone I love to move here and get dead end jobs working at gas stations just so I can be by the ocean and be happy? Because I seriously think I could be fulfilled as a person by working just to get by and lying on a beach reading Hemingway for the rest of my life.

why does everyone have to be so damned mercurial

for real, people!

Anyway, I read the first hundred or so lines of Paradise Lost only to realize I’d read them before in English class. Joy. I did like the part about “the tyranny of heaven”, but mostly it just made me want to read His Dark Materials again.

“The true end of human life, I found myself saying, was not redemption by a nonexistent Son of God, but the gaining and transmission of wisdom. Innocence is not wise, and wisdom cannot be innocent, and if we are going to do any good in the world, we have to leave childhood behind.”

– Philip Pullman, intro to Paradise Lost