You turned the page, of course.

The zine is over, but you paid your three bucks, you deserve the regular 60 pages. I'll fill the rest of this final issue with letters to the editor, some of which are good.

But first, I want to say goodbye with something more thoughtful than two glazed doughnuts and a cup of coffee.

The point of the Pathetic Life project was to be honest about myself and my life, and find something in each day that was worth writing about, maybe even worth reading about.

Did I pull it off? Meh. Overall, I'd give Pathetic Life a B–. Some of the writing doesn't embarrass me, and as for the rest, well, I tried, except for the days I didn't.

The calendar says there've been 761 entries, not counting a few days doubled up and a few days skipped. If half of those — 380 or so — were worth the bother, that's 380 more than if I'd talked myself out of it, which I almost did.

Publish my diary as a zine? What a stupid idea. 

And maybe because it was a stupid idea, I started typing.

Now it's about finished, but the pathetic life goes on. It's sure nice to skip the part of every evening when I'd stare at the typewriter and wonder what the hell's worth writing about from that shitty day.

Socrates said, "The unexamined life is not worth living," but so far I'm having a blast. There are movies to see, zines and books to be read, and every twelve minutes I might ride the J Church to the end of the line and back, just for the view. And then I'll come back to the hotel, and not write about my day.

For the future, my plans look just like the past: I expect to be living alone, scraping by, laughing at idiots but broken inside for as many years as the world allows, and then I'll be dead and forgotten. It was fun while it lasted — the zine, and being me.

And by the way, you know that stupid idea you have? That thing you'd like to try but haven't, because it's dumb or impossible or hopeless? Do it anyway, and then write a zine about doing it, and maybe send me a copy.

From Pathetic Life #25
June, 1996

This is an entry retyped from an on-paper zine I wrote many years ago, called Pathetic Life. The opinions stated were my opinions then, but might not be my opinions now. Also, I said and did some disgusting things, so parental guidance is advised.


  1. Pathetic Life was just a zine about your life 25 years ago. Maybe you've learned a thing or two. Why not blog about your life now? It's all about the stories and the language. You don't have to discover the cure to the pandemic to write a fun, interesting semi-weekly narrative about your life in your 60s. On slow days, write about movies. Just some ideas.


    1. Well, that's pretty much what I've been doing, ha ha.


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