My spirits are down again. They always seem down. I feel like I'll never change, but I think the only way through it is to keep going. Here's some shit I want to get off my chest:
I hate you, Canada. I have never liked you. You were never something to like. I don't like countries. But I don't know what to do with you anymore. Not this week, when it counts more than
COVID denialism has me fucked up in more ways I'm comfortable to admit. How can so many people deny something that seems so obvious to me? Has everyone gone fucking crazy or am I the one who's lost it?
I feel like I have barely lived. I feel confused and a little lost. I feel like I'm too offputting to love. I feel unempathetic. I feel selfish. I feel detached from people. I feel detached from myself.
I've been wanting to tell you this for a while, but it's so stupid that I kind of don't want to. I was talking to that mutual about Crimethinc books and I got that whole thing where you momentarily crush on somebody and you live off the residue of it for a while. It was so minor. I hate the word "crush". It's so juvenile and lukewarm. I'm so fat and creepy.
Why am I so insecure? I have everything I want. I have always had everything I want.
It seems like every song I listen to is about love. Realizing that makes me tune out. I can't relate to it. I'm frustrated that I don't relate to it. So, there's an obvious solution to that, but the thought of it puts me off even more. Maybe I don't want to relate to it.
Through every period in my life for the last 8 years, I have to keep people around that makes me feel like shit, which I justify under the guise of "critical thought". Whether it's Ch--- or antimaskers, I have to keep delusional assholes around to "challenge" myself, or make sure I can never be okay with myself.
I'm sick of books I never finish. I'm sick of records without memories. I'm sick of my bedroom. But where else is there to go? Everybody is there, too.
I feel like I'm always beginning. I hate that. I feel like I'm not improving.
Where are your friends tonight?
I am no revolutionary. I never was. That's not emo. That's just true. I could not be less offensive.
I have no stories of my own to tell.
I'm also physically ugly. There's a whole dimension of things I know and loathe but can't articulate. I know them in the moment, like everyone knows about themselves in the moment, but you blank on it when you come to document it.
I'm so glad I can just sleep.
Am I a bad person?
I have to keep going. There is simply no other way. I just have to believe in myself, somehow. It's the only way this will change.
