• 2002 Goodbyes

    After much anguish, almond iced tea, and pseudo-breakdancing, I finished my senior project in creative nonfiction, a paper comparing the deaths of Princess Di and Elvis Presley, a paper on the film The Exorcist (8 pages! and I could’ve written more!), and a final exam on early British literature. The whole ordeal was murderous, I

  • Happy Turkey Genocide Day!

    Just a note to let all know that I’m not dead yet though I kinda wish I were with school stabbing stabbing. Oh wow, I just found a piece of candy corn in my chair. Anyway, yeah, I’m feeling much better, thank you, but true deepsicklove waits. And what again?—site changes are on the way

  • Nag Champa Sandwichs, Zombies, and O.G.D6

    I bought a box of Nag Champa incense today at a local witchshop and threw it without thought into my bag, right next to my lunch. Five hours later, I unassumingly took a bite of P ‘n’ J saturated with vile—the powerfume soaked through the box and past the sandwich baggie making for one nasty,

  • “There Were So Many Dreams, There Was No Time For Sleep”

    This past couple of weeks I’ve shadowed the living in a constant state of shock, surreal—nothing surprises, only lets down and terrifies. Personally politically psychically I’m shaken, a manic puking mess hysterical, I laugh when I should cut, cry when I should fight back, sleep when I should write, dream when I should wake up,

  • Deferral of the Inevitable with (Dinosaur) Adventures in 3D

    So technically this time—Sunday Sunday Sunday—is reserved for me to begin my senior paper project of a nonfictive creative nature with as-of-yet undetermined content. But I don’t know what to do (what the hell am I going to do??) so that’s right—deepsicks gets an update. Um… let’s see. Underworld was fantastic, spectacular amazing electrifying and

  • headline quick cuts open, kills student

    Is it poor form to show pain in digital? couldn’t be as possibly as numb as in passing to notice a headline on a monitor at work, a mute machine informing me my senator is dead and i try to unlearn it, try to make it unreal, i try to find words to fit the

  • Northeast Minneapolis, 10.06.02, 1:13 AM

    Nic begins a story when holy shit! the car ahead of us hits a pole in the median of Hennepin and sails through the air. We watch between the wipers/through the drops as the vehicle does a quarter turn considers flipping clean over but nosedives instead into the concrete CRUNCH I panic pumping brakes barely