again again again again again. doing nothing again. almost 5 AM again. kinda sad again. again. again. again. Geneviève Castrée was one of the prettiest people i have ever seen (and i feel weird about it. she passed away from pancreatic cancer in 2016. her husband did a record about it, A Crow Looked at Me. i feel weird thinking that she's gorgeous because she was a mother who is dead. i honestly cannot articulate why that's weird. i guess it's like overstepping my boundaries, like she was a mother and a person and a wife who died. it almost feels disrespectful. i don't know. it's not that strong of a feeling) need to get my shit together, need to get my shit together. i think i don't deserve to, which is what keeps me here.i am started to get embarrassed whenever i act socially progressive alone. i feel like i'm being weak, that giving a shit about nonbinary and trans and queer people and people who aren't white and who aren't me somehow makes me weak. i am dead serious. sometimes when i give a shit about how things are said, like not to say 'Indian' or do the 'Asian voice' i sound like a bitch, but i believe in what i'm saying. admitting it aloud makes it sound so dumb. it's a huge part of my morbid curiosity about right wing extremism, it's partially why i made that bit in the gc about 'freedom' and the n-word. their emphasis on strength is the allure, it is unlike how i think i am. i honestly should cut the shit, the self-loathing is self-fucking-indulgent. pump your breaks there, big guy. i want this to stop. it's May. it's not going to stop. i am a coward. i feel kind of uncomfortable with being bisexual in the same way i have always been. it's real, but it turns my once holistic sense of self into a composite of two opposing facets: the queer and the unqueer. which is a lie. the self is always indefinite. went to my grandpa's today. he is vaccinated and i was away from him for the mostpart outside. still feel like i got too close. one day. together on the street of Philedephia, and wherever else. anywhere else. the best years of lives, the furthest we'll ever travel, the most immediate things will ever feel, hopefully. i (need to) believe in heaven (more than ever now). it's late. i want to do the task, i want to do the task, i want to do the task! there goes my summer. another year inside the house. was i wrong for any of it? another life. life itself. life without questions, one that doesn't need answers. flows out like bubbles that pop if you stare at them too long. my elementary school principal took a trip to China in 2009-2010. shithole, shithole, dripping poopy ass. OnlyFans means something important for Marxism, and i don't think using labels like 'petit bourgeoisie' cuts it. it's time to rethink class dynamics. get a job. this is not a time to fear: these are the birth years. the turmoil of this age is not a sign of this world dying, but if a new one emerging from its womb. i feel like i have nothing to say. i want to write a story called 'Jokes About Kicking a Dog' but i don't know what it would be about. teaching kind of scares me. i hate feeling like this, because it lasts for a few days longer than it should and i eventually get out of it only for it to cut me off when i should be getting somewhere and then i'm back to where i started, forever. one day, i love that we say that. one day, definitely. a Pavlovian nightmare controlled by symbols. I HATE THE ANTICHRIST! I HATE THE ANTICHRIST! maybe all this bitchy alienation will make good fiction one day. They've killed God; I can't feel God; My soul is dead. everyone can be Jesus if someone calls them that. whether you like it or not, this is dystopia. this house is my society. this is the nation of bedrooms. FUCK ME! this is such a drag. today i will write a resume. i am almost afraid to be alone with my thoughts before i sleep. i guess ill just think about heaven. last time the Beastie Boys put out a record was a decade ago, the decade without the Three. MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP! don't feel weird about thinking about me a lot because i already feel weird for thinking about you all the time.
