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Once again the absurdity of my inner thoughts overwhelms me, and I want to crawl out of my skin, escape my ugly, awkward flesh and be a skeleton, naked and anonymous.

Isaac Marion

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Isaac Marion
Age: 42
Born: 1981
Born: December 30
Music Journalist
Novelist
Writer
Seattle
Washington
Skin
Overwhelms
Skins
Skeleton
Naked
Crawl
Flesh
Skeletons
Ugly
Anonymous
Inner
Absurdity
Thoughts
Awkward
Escape

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I feel an unfamiliar but pleasant sensation in my lips, tugging them upward. This is... new.
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In my mind I am eloquent I can climb intricate scaffolds of words to reach the highest cathedral ceilings and paint my thoughts. But when I open my mouth, everything collapses.
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What's the point of trying to fix a world we're so briefly in?
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You know things are moving. You're changing, you fellow Dead are changing, the world is ready for something miraculous. What are we waiting for?
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It's not like I'm such a shiny happy person either, you know? I'm a wreck too, I'm just... still alive.
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That's why we have memory. And the opposite of memory— hope. So things that are gone can still matter. So we can built off our pasts and make future.
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I wince at her use of the word human. I've never liked that differentiation. She is living and I'm dead, but we're both human. Call me an idealist.
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Warm Bodies ended up becoming one of the most personal relatable things I've written.
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Music? Music is life! It’s physical emotion - you can touch it! It’s neon ecto-energy sucked out of spirits and switched into sound waves for your ears to swallow. Are you telling me, what, that it’s boring? You don’t have time for it?
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If there are rules, we're the ones making them. We can change them whenever we want to.
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I sigh inside, so exhausted by these ugly questions, but when did a monster ever deserve its privacy?
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I can’t seem to make myself care about anything to the right or left of the present.
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Stop. Breathe those useless breaths. Drop this piece of life you’re holding to your lips. Where are you? How long have you been here? Stop now. You have to stop. Squeeze shut your stinging eyes, and take another bite.
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Sometimes it's a struggle to live in the moment.
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You might say that death has relaxed me.
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Sometimes I wonder if he has a philosophy. Maybe even a worldview. I'd like to sit down with him and pick his brain, just a tiny bit somewhere in the frontal lobe to get a taste of his thoughts. But he's too much of a toughguy to ever be that vulnerable. - R on M
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I want life and in all its stupid sticky rawness.
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What's wrong with people? she says, almost too quiet for me to hear. Were they born with parts missing or did it fall out somewhere along the way?
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...thinking all this maximalism would somehow generate happiness?
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The kind of stuff I usually read is a bit more on the literary side, like books that I think are influential in the sense that they're doing pulpy subject matter in a refined way. Like 'The Road' by Cormac McCarthy, I loved that book.
Isaac Marion