I haven’t had sex in a while. It’s by choice, but it’s also because it’s too goddamn hard these days to find someone who isn’t racist or who doesn’t give off bad vibes to just fuck. I’m also too busy. It seems to be a valid excuse.

In a similar vein, I’ve only recently gotten back into reading. Reading books, that is—and reading for me, not for a review I’ve been asked to do. I try to use the ‘too busy’ excuse for this as well, but it doesn’t work. I feel guilty. Not only because I continue to acquire books in the meantime, but because I know I should be reading more. Nothing good will come of me walking around in circles in my own head. I need to read—to be a better writer, to be a better person.