Typos: solved/sold, bottle/bottom, sleeping/skipping, fell/feel, smear/spear
As of Thursday 09.18.2025 Entry:
I feel: 20 matches, excluding this one (adds up to: 2)
I :664 instances hand-counted, including IFEELS, excluding this section (adds up to: 7)
you :191 matches, excluding this one: I love you (adds up to: 2)
TODAY'S LUCKY NUMBER: 272 TWO-SEVEN-TWO
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Saturday 20.09.25 Haircut tomorrow, I'm planning to buzz it all off unless the hairdresser says my face is not cut out for it. Throat hurts and days contine to get ran through unwisely. Reading Shel Silverstein who my picky mother managed to overlook when choosing childrens books for her both offspring (she had two attempts!). It's good to find another ifOnly that you can shove with the other ifOnlys. Caught up with some old apologies, even some apologies I didn't know were there. Hoping your Saturday is alright, I love you. About me now that I thought about it: I eat my burders and sandwiches upside down around the center strategically. The perfect center-bite almost always has a pickle
Thursday 09.18.25 FLU!!!!! THE FLU!!!!! flu has morphed from the run-of-the-mill snot and temperature deal to something much more unbearable; I can present symptomless without cough and little sweats, but my face, oh, my face... every single muscle is individually attacked, my eyes and jaw beaten, teeth chipped away at... somewhere along the growing-up vertical a decision was made to make my face unusable when sick... I bet my whole head is next, though maybe it is gone already; I've reached a new level of mad by counting how many times I cough in a row and forcing myself to catch up if needed. Here's the update I bet you've been waiting for patiently... counting! more counting. I promise you it's half as annoying to read about than it is to experience. More experience: drinking bottled iced milk tea while in cold sweats is slowly becoming a 'school' thing, and I cannot wait to find myself in this situation again someday at random and remember. The weirdest things make you remember. I haven't been in my parent's old room in god knows how long, yet the oddest thing put me right back on the mattress under summer-cold sunlight massive smear... next I know I'll be sitting in form before art class while actually riding the bus just because I was thirsty
On argument-shaped Friday I have been told about motionlessness and how, annoyingly, I day after day I and me produce nothing, and after that I've managed to totally, completely miss a week of movement. FLU!!!!! aside it's been a question of complete mental withdrawal. Did the blood do it? I haven't done that much either. I've ran out of secretSkin. less worry-less consciousness, it seems.
Unzipped; 'my song'. The concept of 'my song' has warmed up to me. People all across everywhere may be 'my'ing the song you're listening to. REALLY 'my'ing. I'll-play-it-if-I-win-an-award 'my'ing. Keep this softly between your two ears as you listen, and suddenly every sound becomes a pair of eyes. A chord progression becomes a car ride and you're teleporting again. Teleportation Thursday, it seems... how complex...
Today's Music - Coma White - Apoptygma Berzerk, Down There With You - Leaether Strip. In the meantime: prank calls on US public service TV two decades ago, Don Hertzfeldt's shorts when I feel like I can appreciate them thoroughly, More Peanuts but this time more sparse to not let it turn to mulch. And sleep... a lot of sleep
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Sunday 09.14.25 I have thoughts as far as Friday, but something big happened on friday that I couldn't let slide off as if it was nothing, and yet can't document publicly (argument-shaped family matter/miss). I walked to school, even though I never do, with headphones in, and the crickets chirped as loud as ever. I imagine they were left devastated by the loss of their most devoted listener, but I promise I won't do it again, because the feeling it gave me, the kind of feeling of narrative-bending power ego-driven that overrides everybody and everything's attempts to engage, didn't feel right whatsoever. I'm thinking about common-public knowledge now, and to get some you need to stay in touch with the common-public. The only right place to listen to music to is in a machine, car or otherwise.
Ideally, you shouldn't portion yourself by rotten or edible. All the same batch, I tell you, you need to point a laser and perform surgery, or cut off chunks with scissors. Understandably this isn't much of a goal when you've been portioned automatically on arrival but healing and work aren't beyond anybody. It's a fine Sunday and I'm watching something that makes me mad and scared and thinking, because those things aren't beyond anybody either. On the contrary, they're there, waiting to be worked on
Today's Music - Bloc Party - Signs, A Sunny Day in Glasgow - Golden Waves, Brendan Canning - Hit the Wall, Grizzly Bear - Two Weeks, Horse Vision - Partly Get By, I'm in my mom's old office, and while I'm remotely there I'm catching up with the past 2025 years of culture, because we can't say what's wrong now without knowing what was wrong before
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Thursday 09.11.25 What a poor game of ping-pong we are playing! Frustration is an undignifying feeling, especially when you have the kind of frustration that forces you to hit your head against the nearest object, and the kind of frustration that makes everybody talk down at you while you're still down ducking trying to hit your head or bite your hand. There are blemishes afterwards from the poor game of ping-pong(not echo; do not confuse the soft echo to the hitting hurt of ping-pong) and from the poor frustrated you. It takes too long to recover and get smooth again, as smooth as you can be after all these hits and after all the blemishes
There is flu going around like every september. I give out candy. During computer science class (nerdy! we're doing object-oriented coding) I had to use school headphones to watch a video, and the audio only worked on one side. After a small unceremonious pause, - a video is frequently treated poorly and is spoken over like the weather, - the headphones worked exclusively in the opposite ear as punishment.
Interesting people have a hard time being uninteresting - calmly, way too many 'smallWebs' Peoples and not enough echo or ping-pong
Today's Music - Binrmingham 6' "Who Do You Love", as opposed to The The's "Love is Stronger Than Death", which has latched closely after a midday viewing of 'nowhere' (1997, Gregg Araki). Your only option now is to write text on walls
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Wednesday 09.10.25 Still sweaty from my 'walk' which was more of a 'swing'. Apple juice is a liquid thinner than water. Last year, ecologically anxious, before website anxious, a teacher told me she would love for me to collect bottlecaps and now every time I see a bottle thrown away without the bottlecap removed I feel a deep wrong. Would you really want to install cold lights in your apartment like an office? Kids love me. I will be out of university and my brother will still be in school. I am so sweaty and the swing handles were so sticky and I am so insecure. Everything is giving me a headache. Everything is giving me a massive headache and I am full of thick liquid. I thought about it in retrospect; I am a mother of two without having proof of it. Believe me, please, I am a mother of two and every day I spend over an hour in paralysis while my self travels through branches of tentacled sponge to be one. Kids love me.
Spinning in my head over and over: "Nobody meant to be unkind, but nobody put themselves out of their way to secure her comfort."
Tuesday 09.09.25 removed while it was still an option
Sunday 09.07.25 Less than meaningless update; I seem to absolutely require a school schedule to function any better than lying down in bed. 7.30PM assignment crunch, it has been paralyzing me all long-weekend but I seem to love paralysis... You know full well you've subscibed to a rather lazy and unprincipled diary of MINE..... who is just as lazy and unprincipled........
My teeth hurt in reminder of how rotten I am really. They often do that, and I am once again compulsed to take a mid-day shower even if it is the back of my throat that is prickly with acid. Repeating, repeating, though I'm less paranoid than May, whatever She was doing. I can sense the little bits (did you know, for example, that reading a comic with children as protagonists makes you a definite paedophile?), but most of her has drained red into tissues. It's wonderful how dull this outlandish belief system can get! May, I'm not sure what she was doing...
The solution, I found out, is to stuff yourself so full with something you have no room for much of anything else. Completionism is rarely a curse if you're as lazy and unprincipled as I am, and now every interaction gets briefly translated into a witty strip as I make sense of what is being said to me. Even the issue of having no singular common social self can be fixed quietly by stuffing, - it will keep pushing until someself forms! Beautiful, simply beautiful. By the time I've finished this passage I'd already forgotten what I had written at the start.
How could I forget! Full Moon; Lunar Eclipse; Blood Moon! Dear moon!
Today's Music - I AM NOT DROPPING THIS, NO SIR! BUT I HAVE BEEN TORTURING MYSELF WITH THE SAME 4 TRACKS IM FAMILIAR WITH, TOO SCARED OF ANYTHING NEW WHEN SO MUCH IS NEW AND MESSES UP MY BLISSFUL ROUTINE...
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Thursday 09.04.25 Out and about again. My card got approved after a month's long wait and my dad gave me some money to travel with. Mom prohibited the bus, she told me I will faint from the heat. She made me take my brother's cap to the mall.
I insisted, to myself, on the metro. From the mall I already drove to I got on the Red Line and stood the half an hour from place A to place B slowly incubating MetroMe who is still standing there under the grey dusty sunset. The spot wasn't packed but my eyes are itchy and I want to shower a dozen times over. I haven't been in a metro since at least 4 years ago. You're floating, I tell you, you're floating, you're floating over yellow rows of car dealerships, it's yellow flight. And I was flying, for a moment, next to the most beautiful girl before the semantics got to me. Snapping me into a spot between mouthless amazement at newfound flight and the sudden stroke of romaticized re-evaluation, I couldn't catch a glimpse of her face, only that she spoke about an apprenticeship. I saw her wallet in the bag on the floor and her long earrings and she pressed up against the window behind us looking at the same grey dusty sunset and I suddenly understood why people paint the sky so blue. I turned around just to catch her between the monotone skysrapers obscured by a smear of lip or spit on my side of the window. I saw the station across and it reminded me of my mom's old office building. My eyes were just as itchy by the time I had to come off. Flying there in parallel I realized how talkative everyone is if you try to. How many of everyone's favorite color is green and how many worry about their hair and how many have a face to catch a glimpse of.
Getting off I decided that I am willing to forgive incubation. I am willing to forgive incubation because everything is new, Everything is New
("...each face coming away with a hint/of the other's face pressed in it." Orkney/This Life, Andrew Greig)
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Tuesday 09.02.25 in-webEditor while sweeping files; I've had some pretty turns of phrase in mind but couldn't keep them down mid-day walking in 35 degree heat. Sieved them through my pores with all other useless, useless garbage. I never knew it could be so damaging to take exclusively rides to and from school. That morning (now mid-day) fresh air was needed.
Unable to converse properly with the weather due to the uniform mandate I bought a huge jug of lemonade with the last 3 dollars I had in (currency-proportional) notes and drank it while it was still newborn pristine more coolant than a lemonade taste. There were no cats and I feel my hands covered in a thin dry chalkdust ash which bothers me but I am typing. The jug is currently sitting in the corner of the school library on the floor because, as it stands, you're not allowed drinks into the library, but the handy little shelving unit has been repurposed to hold more more books. I congratulate it on it's promotion by brainwave mail.
Gifts are nice, notices are nice, Mirror returned the favor and I realise she does not know me that well and so I am thinking about Butterfly Rome, Italy. Too tongue-tied to elaborate so I will only say that keeping things secret for discovery is futile if you do not deliver a previous trail of discoverables. Speak up speak up speak up! All shame will sieve out.
Separately, on the theologicals, my new obsession is bloodletting. Not proper ritual of any kind, I like having my arms out talking with the air too much, but between that a little drain is rejuvinating. I feel like Linus on Election Day bringing up the Great Pumpkin last minute but I do not encourage anything outside your own frame of mind and thinking. But I've been thinking clearer, much clearer.
There was an audio link here, but I am having a difficulty... wait wait wait
Sunday 08.31.25 Goodbye, Summer! Goodbye happy summer. Still in removed Appaul that next year I'll be moving and moving on and no longer in the bedroom I seldom connected to over the past few years. Conscious now, I'll remember to make a point of remembering the occasional blemish. Today I'm eating peanut butter by the spoonful, not unlike a dog.
Explaining old news: I were to write an extensive ramble on something sentimental, but I realised that the use of phrase 'Televised US' I appear no different to a person whose entire income comes from fetishizing old news, ads, and everything otherwise unremarkable at its own time, only because nothing otherwise remarkable has taken its warm symbolic spot. I want to excuse myself thoroughly. I am not an American and have never set foot there.
Reading 'The Racial Imaginary', a collection of essays edited by Claudia Rankine I was reaffirmed in the concept of the 'other'. For this, paraphrased, the 'other' forms by having a dominant culture pose a linguistic and cultural default that by itself alienates everything that is not itself. Remembering here how my north-hemisphere-acclimatized father complained about the weather, noting, carelessly, 'how can anyone wear a coat in this heat?' after seeing my friend sport a sweater. Using this language and seeing the cold as default, the girl begins to no longer exist as the acceptable 'anyone', but as something else.
While predominantly an issue of race, it's an issue of culture as well. And it's an issue where, thinking about it generally, everything that isn't US, anyRace US, becomes the 'other'. At the risk of dismissing struggle I want to clarify: every person, not US-born or immigrated or affiliated, that rises to some global notoriety is confined to that non US-status, which is why we will never have either a Markiplier or an IShowSpeed from China, because there you'd be getting Chinese Markiplier and Chinese IShowSpeed irregardless of the person's own talent. This association sells, but it creates a restricting default.
This cultural dominance made an imprint big enough to form that frequently-mentioned Televised US as I call it, because all content that comes from there is alien. My parents had the grace to cut me off from the general public pre-primary education and make sure that each time the work-hour babysitter left the channel that was on was Cartoon Network. And you watch Cartoon Network, which becomes a default, and that default conflicts with yours. The audience was, of course, US, but asking for a popular and well-respected cartoon you would almost never get the answer of some nowhere-2nd-3rd-world mid-60s production, you'd get Gumball. We don't have schools like in Gumball. But wasting away hateful fake middleschool in an online (pre-Covid) program the fantasy of the US default school embedded itself firmly, putting me neither here or there when it came to familiarity. The Gumball school is fake, but it's a school. It's an unreachable ideal when you're somewhere else, not a relatable setting.
And if you're there, on the land, it's propaganda. Propaganda of its own like every ad or generalization is, but when you're outside it's the constant reaffirming of your 'other'. Me, dear me, on my website blog, had an even harder time. When I speak of 'Televized US' I don't mean the 90s jungle-kid fad and all the documentaries that came of it that can be cut up and put neatly in an edit, I mean as little as daytime television, or the commonplace tropes with their origin being actually one generally-regarded-as-common-and-default-but-not-really-place. The ad. Whatever ad is bothering you, I'd kill to see the ad. For something so true to everything on your computer, it will feel unreal, otherworldly.....
Long post. Not out of hate or disdain, I just feel like this is nuance that is lost when you're where you're supposed to be. When you're on the outskirt without the same glory of cultural domination and a victim of it, it's easy to mistify what's been shoved down your throat. Forgive me for saying 'Televised US'. I don't mean old nostalgia, I mean accidentally learning that Nickelodeon had a waterpark hotel this whole time, and having you and your brother find the next closest experience on Roblox, because interstate travel isn't real without A State
Today's Music - none! But a whole load of peanutButter and more Peanuts stuff. Reading about it gives me shivers. So much love in it, though this was the topic I've decided to save, so you'll have to wait...
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SameSaturday as below Newfound fun in drawing... Reading, reading with new resident. My tics start up only and only as soon as I get to school and they start and they don't end? Old news: I've found too many TOO MANY old photos, because on the DropBox drive my dad sent me I've foolishly bookmarked only a subfolder, obscuring myself from everything that was Videos Of Me. My old room, I remember you, and really I remember quite a few objects, even though I've forgotten, even though they hadn't materialized without a reminder, and it makes me feel dusty guilt yet again into the forever churn of whateverGuilt of different texture and color. But really, I spoke so oddly, and called my mother by her first name. Who does that?
Of course, the memory I have of my room is some early, too-early one, an does not concern itself with later (overtaken) development. For every piece of evidence against my neurosis there is two more so I will let it run passively in the background. Black shelf? The Table, I remember the symbolics of the table. An Image of the Table? What a Ridiculous, alternative-reality sight. How odd!
I feel the same way about the MiddleMan apartment I moved from years4-5 ago, I bet if I stepped foot in it the 6-13Me will come back and remember drawing on the furniture, and if 3-6Me came into apartment 1 she would remember the smell of the black shelf and speak as oddly as she did oh How Oddly She Spoke like an ad or a book, and 15-etc.Me wont be left watching myself knowing,Knowing full well something I knew already but now dont have the smell of Black Wooden Table with Red Cushion to cover
Today's Music - Endtroducing... by DJ Shadow. Todays etc. is watching The Charlie Brown and Snoopy Show with Riley and NewResident, and then, when Riley's asleep, reading Mansfield Park, which NewResident quite likes for the premise of a messy love story, a complete oposite of what I look for in a book. I, for myself, was taken aback by the straightforward language, without all the pampering. I found it inspirational! Now on, Letting go of all 'some-'s, 'thing's, and all other unnecessary filler!
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Saturday 08.30.25 Unfulfilled promises to my own dear self led to an 8pm bedtime, which is not the kind of bedtime I've had in a while. Nonetheless I've slept dreamlessly for 13 hours. This ought to fix it! At least I hope it will. Poetry anyhology from the school librarian... dense, really dense, and yet I cant shake off 'inferior'. High chance I never will despite how human everything is anyway, but I'll do something else to compensate for it, of course I will
Thursday 08.28.25 Challenging myself to briefly think this morning, I've come to the conclusion that my big problem with being an interesting individual is, most likely, informed by the (symbolic) change of age. By this I mean that really I am not grieving my current personality but the could've personality, which, as recently documented, was similarly lazy and neurotic. About 11 days into this, and I am already losing my mind... not a way to go forward, not really, as much as I hate the idea of having nothing profound to offer after all this time. I suspect, quietly, that refusing to see it as a failure would be complacency.
Language, and someone's ability to handle it, both informs and enhances somebody's experience. So many can go through the same thing, but the more you have in you to express it, the more meaning you can get from it, and the more accurate your memory will be. It is important to have just enough language&love&interest to have the idea to express a thing at all, as it can be easily obscured and left to dissipate out of seeming unimportance. And it scares me, suddenly, but I am ashamed again of my age and how much it has taken me to be scared, so I will convince myself again that in my dream to be a cog, a person to observe to imagine something superior rather than observe to get greatness, in my dream to not stand out as anything at all it must be important to forget, and focus on my function. It's a weird dream, but I believe my behavior so far confirms that this is all I'm made out to be. It is dull, but more calming than weakly worded theologies. It's in my nature (today) to fail and be simple... today I make peace with it. Today I'll try my very best to not fall asleep mid afternoon. Today will be good, I hope, I've settled it.
Today's Music - A little too early to have listened to anything
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Wednesday 08.27.25 [] have been practicing safe suicide, and then letting 10:40PM suck up the worries. There was more to say but [] am insecure and will not be much aside from insecure for as long as [] will live beside []self. And safe suicide (naps and naps and naps untill it's time to sleep anyway) had been a good idea at a glance but that just means that the woken up rest will worry at times it has never been worried before, and you get stuck in a muck of pointing out your own wrongs to yourself endlessly and preserving/marinating in your own apparent immorality. This stalls you, but [] do not know of much more than safe suicide if something in [] allows it. All other decisions lead to a more drastic measure of stopping circling around one way or another, be it in own mind or on the globe around the sun. Die, [] mean die, but [] feel it would be ungrateful and unmotherly and unmatterly to do so
Today's Music - Haujobb still
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Tuesday 08.26.25 'A Boy Named Charlie Brown'. The letter 'I' is bothering [] again. [] will not sleep tonight to kick off school with a proper school heartburn and a proper ignorance. There is no excitement, but [] am creeping upwards just enough to look over the fence. This is allowed, as excess is removed, and there is money spent on someone who will forget it, surely
18 feels mulchy. There is no need anymore to excuse yourself and no storytelling about anything here onwards. No good proof. It is a perpetual roundabout, though it is only day 9 (9!) and maybe if [] gain enough speed []'ll fling off, get up (dusty and covered in debris), look around, and discover a new vignette that [] will not feel as either below or above of, and just there the nerve endings in places where, barred by a yellow blanket, even the ceiling light won't reach will be excersized. And as little there would be to storytell there would be enough to pulsate out a beat for a tune... ([]'m wishing and dreaming, as [] always do)
New resident wants to read a lot. She likes it when [] read to her. [] mouth words because it feels like [] am reading to her while she sits there beside me. She really does, but in 3rd vision. Reading allows you to access all 3 visions! That is if you have 3, which you might not. If you try really hard there is an inside of your head, 3rd vision. Not time-eye but space-eye. Land-eye. It's most likely gray but it is putty.
'A Boy Named Charlie Brown', then a snippet of Walt Whitman's 'Leaves of Grass'. The televised US of ads revives me.
Today's Music - Haujobb - 'Maternal Instinct', 'Eye Over You'
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Friday 08.22.25 (After Sleeping) 'Would anybody miss me' is fruitless if you're not something to shoot at while you're here / 'Matter' and 'miss' are similarly manifested when consigning parts of yourself... Sometimes this page sounds like a tied up satchet and sometimes like a mishandled xylophone. And manyplace on the noted down soundspectrum it has rubbed out blanks but that may be the printer's fault
Friday 08.22.25 Back to school in 3-4 days. Trying to catch up on old apologies. I realize it's fruitless to become something you're not but it hurts a lot to be something 'uncool' in your own eyes, though at that point you're just forcing yourself to catch attention that you can't compensate for otherwise. Catching up with old sorries is proving to be difficult. I can't believe I'm 18, it seems so old, and so lost for some reason. If asked what have I done so far I'd point to the fillings in my jaws and explain that I've never got the grasp on brushing my teeth and they had to pull out a bunch of them in primary school and as much as I don't remember primary school I remember coming home and having to drink my dinner through a straw, and I remember having to go to my dad's clinic for fillings and it was grey and cold and it was such a small unwelcoming room it expanded by rejection, shrinking the already small me. I'd point to where an appleseed made a dent on the roof of my mouth when I had to wear a retainer and they filled it with something hard, and I'd point to a little piece of lead in my hand that I got stuck in me in 1st grade by accidentally stabbing myself while changing into a sweater. And then I'm not sure I'd be able to point to much else, except the apologies I need to catch up on. Moving next year, expecting it, feeling release. I would love to appeal to you more, but what for?
Today's Music - Fleshwater. Missed them
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Sunday 08.17.2025 Quick outing. Painfully monotone day. Something disturbed me, deeply. I can change my attitude. Most of my gifts are still in the mail. Surprise-secret: book about isopods.
Saturday 08.16.2025 My net is big and I feel insignificant. Stationary, it doesn't pull either way. Perpetual and consistent. Goldfish in a plastic bag swimming circles circles circles my water is kept clean (in a fishbowl now) but I am spinning circles circles no longer a novelty.
I thought about 'to matter' yesterday. To care about something enough to produce it, produce something new from it. I saw a old screenshot of somebody's uncompleted puzzle through an account on Bluesky that automatically posts old screenshots, and it felt so personal. Was it too difficult, interesting, did you want to share? It mattered enough to produce new matter. I looked at it, and it is still just as private. I don't think anyone else saw it. But the energy that was passed to make that screenshot for one suddenly crucial reason to another persisted long enough for me to see it. It matters to me now too, so I'm writing about it. There's matter being made everywhere.
The fishbowl is transparent and the only thing that matters here is the cleanliness of the water. The fishbowl may even be more of a tank but I am so used to the plastic bag I swim in circles circles circles and there is no energy passed downinto helping me diverge. I hope to be released soon. I don't think of doing anything drastic much. But I hope for release so frequently, because the walls are always transparent, even if I am well fed.
My birthday is tomorrow. I don't know where to go. I don't think I want to celebrate it at all. It's a bummer. I'll get a banking account and the couple shirts and pins I ordered overseas (US) will come shortly, possibly into the school year. It was the 10th yesterday, I think to myself. I want to make pancakes tomorrow.
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P.S.S I won't directly steal and download and embed, but MingKasterMK on Twitter made up a handy little chart of video upload formats from various cameras to look up on YouTube and watch untitled home videos from way back when. Another one for 2006-2008. It is: Desert Sunset
Today's Music - The Doors The Way Out on loop in their own way. I went to the swings yesterday as I haven't in a while and was punished by almost fainting from low blood pressure. I did not wish to call for help so I sat on public park pavement. It was it's own adventure. It felt good to almost faint. I would love to
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Wednesday 08.13.2025 Nothing new. My birthday is in 4-3 days, give or take. No plans yet. I haven't slept as well as I could've.
I am thinking, briefly, about the computer. For somebody who has lived such a straight line of a life even the computer became meaningless. For my entire primary school carreer, before leaving, I had barely set foot anywhere but the shallow pool, so I won't drown. I liked swimming but I was the worst, the worst swimmer. The computer is similar to this. I use it vicariously. There is nothing saved on it but disorganized artfiles. I was always told to not ever clog it or fill it with files or download anything, so I seem to never do, and this put me in a position where the computer is a hub to hook up to my tablet and to otherwise not engage with. I see no reason in digging deeper, even if I feel shame about it. This will be my 18th birthday resolution, it seems. To make this home, since nothing else sticks. Slides off oily coated surfaces. Guiltily.
P.S-S-S Everything is a race to prove yourself to somebody
P.S-S-S-S I use 'some-' words so much I must add them to the count
Monday 08.11.2025 I keep forgetting people have larger nets than I imagine they do. When somebody avoids you it may as well be beacuse in a weave youre on the edge and dripping down to you the attention might as well disappear. Went out again yesterday, took a boat across the canal to have dinner at an Ikea. I feel less aware of my surroundings than I believe I should be. Having weird, violent dreams, noticing that all places I recognize as 'home' (previous home before moving) have become blurry amalgamations of someplace else. The gym, supposedly my old school's gym, is suddenly looking like my new school's. I still have my primary school's classmates' phone numbers. It feels quite odd to feel like you haven't lived a period at all. I am too fatigued to make connections out of it. 'Frantic', I think, is a good word for me. Embarassing you forever
Today's Music - 'Unlisted Track' by Razed in Black
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Saturday 08.09.2025 That same Thursday I went out by myself for the first time. I've been to the park before but I mean drove to a mall. Drove to a gallery street-walked to a mall-drove to another mall-walked to a market with a 22 year old woman from Morocco who is here to do an internship for her degree. We were both confused on how to cross a street and I walked with her once we found it. I thought she was 15 at first.
I am quite frazzled by the realization that sitting here and trying to recollect what I have been doing brings up nothing. I've walked 16k (as per iphone) steps in my old corroded shoes I've been wearing for every outing since I've purchased them 4 years ago. I don't think they've ever been in the wash either. Returning to it, I don't register anything. Or telling myself that I am not. There must be an effort made to glue everything together but I prefer to be a victim of whatever it is that slices me up.
There isn't much priority to me anymore, neither this website or the kinds of configurations I've been making up to explain why, why, why. I'm watching (and reading) a whole lot of Peanuts. More fun than anything.
Today's Music - Nothing new!
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Thursday 08.07.2025Small catch-up, everything worries me today right off the bat. I sometimes worry that worrying at night is less valuable, but here it is, living proof that obviously I worry every day and every time. I haven't been writing here and haven't been writing in my journal either, even though I enjoy it. It has been too hot and too shy to have the kind of day that finds it's place in a page, although I suppose I just talk about the glue that lines my insides and is now coming out of every pore to make me sticky on the outside. I shower 2x, 3x times a day now because everything feels hot, sticky, and disgusting, and I am too hot and disturbed to go to sleep. ('disturbed' here is too heavy but I will use it anyway; in reality I am not even stressed but cannot lie down straight and calm for long enough to fall asleep without bouncing up or reaching for my phone.)
Annoyed by the vaccuum a room over and upset that day 7 into August there isn't much done. I haven't considered myself a primary representative of SCHOOLH8 but every time I'm off for this prolonged of a period I remember how much room-me needs a break. Separation of self like this isn't healthy but it is how I feel. Room-me usually can't do nothing more than sleep around.
Writing here/in journal feels intrusive and, to equal extent, weird. It feels like I am altering someone else's text and ideas, and when I do, everything comes out completely differently to how I was expecting, where re-reading it immediately is like reading a new text that you simply got to memorize beforehand. I suppose it's the same with drawing for me, nothing comes out like what I imagine, but the hand that does it breaks the proccess up so much into it's own statements it becomes it's own thing, and I am not upset that what I envisioned hadn't come true.
It's a weird Thursday. Worrying still, this wasn't much more theraputic than simply thinking about it. De-railing, maybe I'm worried about being too self-indulgent? too he-indulgent? I want to read today.
Today's Music - De La Soul - De La Soul is Dead
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Sunday 08.03.2025I do not wish to announce because it is obvious. Every day feels more like an hour of a day and by that I mean I only fill an hour. Finally got to go feed cats again, fell sick under heat but it was fine because they were hungry. Got cat food on my leg and it still burns under skin with nothing to show for it. A lot of bugs in my dreams. Wasted, empty days...
Tuesday 07.29.2025 I am going to write something tangible and less removed just for today. Hopefully to revitalize some interest, or give context, there are many reasons to speak with more intent and have the power in you to dissapoint someone. If I were a shape I would be a circle: I keep thinking the same few thoughts, which are as follows: 1. There is no evidence I am a victim of anything and there is high chance I made everything up; 2. There is, though, contrary evidence that I am not doing well; 3. Obviously, 'not doing well' when it is baseless and you cannot point to a 'why' is wrong; 4. The 'not doing well' isn't even that bad and if you compare compare compare you're making it up too; 5. I am not being interesting enough about any of this
This is an unwelcome change in frame of mind because now I am fighting battles nobody even knew I was planning in the first place! I am unsure if my parents (the onlies) just cater to my oddness so much or it is just so unnoticeable, but not once was I a point of concern, and it shames me to be concerned over myself in any capacity. I try and tell myself: it is obvious that you merely have an unhealthy obsession and there is no reason to figure out the why. But I like my nets. I like to get tangled in my nets
Still not truthful enough; I think I am jealous of a certain nothing. I don't feel like I have the right to do much lately aside from keeping up my body for everybody else (re: big felt book frontpage) and everything else I do for fun is to feed them as well. Now that I'm thinking about it, it's a hopeless move to chop myself into pieces like this, because I am again installing a belief that complicates coming to terms with the fact that I am normal&average, and maybe hearing them shouldnt hinder me at all. (Paranoidly, What authoroty do I hold, then, to speak on being cut into pieces? Do I want to speak on it at all? Why would I?)
Lastly, a lot of it is guilt. A certain guilt about being 14 and making decisions about yourself that did not turn into actions, but hold some meaning to you, and now that you're quietly breaking them it is like you've said so much about yourself to yourself and you've lied to yourself and you're a liar, and should ideally be hopelessly dropped off in a desert to be spat on by a camel. Maybe I am worried that a month ago the circle I was was a circle about a completely different issue entirely, and abandoning that issue deserves the same punishment. A lot of 'but's and 'maybe's in my words, I need to expand
Farewell! Farewell coherency. I've noticed my memory and intuition slipping to a much greater degree. I don't remember much in general but lately I haven't been remembering anything at all. Nobody even cares anymore that, if asked about yesterday, I'd have to load up asssisted, if not completely fail the task. I am reaching baby levels of object permanence, and I feel like it's too soon for a rebirth. Today's plans are: trace back my promises and brush my stuffed horse with one of my several wooden combs because I like doing so. And draw! I missed it.
- speaking 'Valentine', someone intertwined already. Less of a derivative, more like a lump.
Today's Music - De La Soul - 3 Feet High and Rising (this one's an album), Haujobb - The Speed of Pain, Funker Vogt - Narayan, Inertia - Hot Hot Hot!!! (these are songs)
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Wednesday 07.23.2025 City tourist bus, open roof. Earlier maybe yesterday or today a tree gently brushed the top of my head, telling me to look forward. I've been more careful with my step to not let Snail's death go nowhere no lesson no conclusion, but in turn it meant Ive spent more time staring at grey rock trying to avoid lines rather than looking up beyond me and letting my eyes digest something new. City tour fun bus, it rained for a little, then stopped, me and my younger brother carefully ignored the Don't-flail-your-arms warning to touch passing leaves, get arm covered in water. Second circle around city tour bus route we were waving at everybody, smiling genuinely, everybody's there and you can spot them in windows talking if you're attentive enough. It was FUN! It was Fun it was Fun it was Fun. I could do it over and over.
Picked up a new rock from a pile of rubble to add to my pet rocks, which there are about a dozen. This one is named International Friend. I don't think I have googly eyes the right size, but a simple missing thing like that can always be bought. Eating my 3rd mint of the day. Big rain yesterday, early wake-up tomorrow. Infinite fun, look into windows.
Today's Music - Spahn Ranch - Heretic's Fork [["Melted wing and prayer/As angels would say/Built to erase your coldest trace/You're like a movie now"]]
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Saturday 07.19.2025 TAKE 2. Heavy rain aoutside. A lot of my hardly coherent thought is floating away away away and I am unable to catch them. I am counting a lot (steps lines stairs thoughts floorboards touch). This page has devolved into a negativityfest, but I am hoping to fix it. Reading 'Design as Art' by Bruno Munari. By lettering and spacing you can introduce a 4th dimension to your work, which is Time. You can timebend and always could, by
spacing
things
OUT!
Not a new idea either (written around 1930s I believe) but I had not thought like that. see:
YOU'LL READ THIS FIRST. OR AT LEAST SOMEWHERE ALONG THE FIRST. MAYBE THE ONLY THING YOU'LL READ I THINK I HAVE LIKE 1 CONSISTENT READER AT ANY GIVEN TIME.
and not a lot of it makes sense either.
It is interesting! New and interesting, to me. Another idea of his I liked (and this is talking about commercial design, but you can backwards your way through) was that anything you make will have to interact with what is near it. Adapts to what is near it. Its known well and through that everything only is the way it is in its own context but that context can be worked with so that time is bent. Vaguely, a circular design in the center of a piece traps the eye to go around it because the space around it is empty, and doesnt flow into anything, and the eye has to wander in circles, and time is bent in circles. A fractured design takes your hand and leads you out. You can walk through 2D spaces. I feel embarassed to admit Ive only come to this through a book, but ^^^A lot of my hardly coherent thought is floating away away away
Last: "Would it be a good thing if people were taught to know their colors? I certainly think so. Any knowledge of the world we live in is useful, and enables us to understand things that previously we did not know existed."
Today's Music - Apple Music has mixtapes! Wow. 'Industrial Music for Bondage Balls' with two ladies on the cover.
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Sunday 07.13.2025 Some stomach disease, missing out, sustaining orange juice and activated charcoal. It feels wild to see my father hurt, because, really, that's a monolith, an unmovable 'perfect' that has the right to tell me what to do and why i do not qualify. At the same time, there is a dismissiveness in his asserting of his own pain, there was no need to compare it to my own 'insignificant' attempts to open up. Hurt4Hurt. Asshole on asshole action. Stop laughing, defend, defenseless. A lot of words inside my mind.
Missing out, at home, stomach pain, sitting down, new numbers to make connections with. Brain completely fried. Want to draw - i am unsure again of whether or not i am imagining things. Saw my old apartment in a dream and it was too blurry. Saw my relatives that never were and they were too real even if theyre not. Walked cliffside and worried i will fall off. When you live, FOR REAL, dreams become similar to life, but then youre met with the issue of confusing one for another. SideNote: Dreamed/hallucinated a person?
Today's Music - toilet Flush many times a day. sorry.
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Tuesday 07.10.2025Late-Time confession Convenience is evil: Stepped on a snail late night yesterday next to a hospital, right foot toe unforgivable even counting. Mourn the snail collectively, Im sorry.
Today's Music - Gosammer (Passion Pit), How You Sell A Soul to a Soulless People Who Sold Their Soul? (Public Enemy), Lemon of Pink (The Books)
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Tuesday 07.08.2025Mudskippers&turtles. ABOMINABLE LOWLIFE: Do you do anything for your Self? Lack of discipline, interest, and creativity, inappropriate attatchment to objects. Spins oneself or objects. Stands hit by waves shorts wet coldFreezing talking to buddy friend, learning about what the moon does to the tide, what gravity does, learning. I like word scrambles and I like derivatives and I LOVE NOT MAKING SENSE! Buy your own glue.
There should be a big free safe anonymous app where people oldpeople youngpeople deadpeople upload their photos. Regular vacation family unprofessional photos. A billion captures of a butterfly in Italy, I need that. Nobody cares about how private your life is share it detatched from yourself we want to gawk at you Butterfly in Rome, Italy. One may underestimate how much others are really having fun but im allowed to be envious staring from a cellar and I understood that really being locked in a room isnt as much of a problem as it being an iteration of room-me who is the only one ever in that room and i cannot let her out. Apparently, 'coast-removed-lightly-watched-aware-me' is not the same as 'alone-room-me' and she will always be ALONE in a ROOM and she will always be panicked. Sad4U really am . I get to watch turtles and mudskippers.
Observationally: I can still play. I am just unfunny now. Never really were , but it was easier to forse when I my brother was 3 and did not know humor . Difficulty interacting with others
Today's Music - THE BEAUTIFUL TIDE DOES NOT NEED TO BE SILENCED..........................................................
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Thursday 07.03.2025Saltbraid seaweed sugarwater butterfly. Dried kelp rock pastel green. High tide, upright-exhausted, alone for a second before the coastguard told me the water is too fierce&too high. Microrocks in waves I am not afraid of anymore (not jellyfish, teeth, or stray glass acid), don't jump over a wave or you'll get microcuts. Theoretically. If I were to imagine.
Rumor (I was too much of a teenGirl to come along and check): Mudskippers and Turtles
Today's Music - THE BEAUTIFUL TIDE DOES NOT NEED TO BE SILENCED..........
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Sunday 06.29.2025 I could swear it was Saturday Unfulfilled promises (assignments) overrun into day 3 of Summer. Writing out of obligation, I am pulled in multiple directions, but I am not letting myself be stretched. Defiant I do nothing! Nothing! Went out only once, may go twice, I need to get rid of the remaining cat treats, we're flying away, I'm eating sickening garbage because we are flying away and shelf life is not for everybody. It is always exciting to travel but any outing with my family gets holes punched through it and if it is prolonged (it is) i will run out of memory very, very quick. I feel above it all and largely isolated nostalgia-operated unwillingly today yesterday tomorrow. Not much else to say, sandpaper on sandpaper despite quietly reading in my bedroom (expanding horizons but not yet groundbreaking). Sorry for boring you and declining in quality, shelf life is not for everybody
Today's Music - Stripped - Shiny Toy Guns, I've Suffered Long Enough - Razed In Black, Ocean - Collide
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THURSDAY(?) 06.26.2025 Last day of school, ended up not being a day at all. Need to change the sound of my alarm, I think I am becoming used to it.
4 hours yesterday spent on making a gift for an art teacher that is leaving this year. She is flying to China to her partner, I am thinly jealous.She has a senile rabbit that she cannot fly over and it was so SAD such GRIEF and such CARE I cared also. There is no photo of the gift (positively) but I will describe it to you: small, rabbit-shaped stuffed keychain with circle eyes and a smile, sewn-on whiskers, little heart on tummy, hand-woven keychain string. It is white with a brown pattern of craft-tools; the heart is black with jungle leaves. It has a bell inside. It is so awfully JANK.
Pretending that the image in your head is true: I like it. Imagining it a year after slightly dirtied from unexpected rain and theres me inside it from when I licked the thread for it to stop fighting with the needle. I'm, thinly, in China. Isn't that weird? I'm at the airport TONIGHT in my bedroom while sleeping. Weird? Beautiful, to me at least, to have string eyes everywhere and be reminders of 'girl'. Travelling timestamp. Conclusion: keep spreading.
Today's Music - Jay-Z ft. Alicia Keys - Empire State of Mind. Reminded of MIRROR who is leaving to New York City but I am going to UK and I will miss her and somehow I am torn between jeopardizing my career for her if I am lucky enough to squeeze through that window or dreadily drifting away. String eye reminder when I see her next year.
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2AM Tuesday run-in Monday Green with envy green with new growth green with spring. Juvenile and quite stupid, really, I can see where I am above you and any given you but being below makes me mad. Running circles on an empty track horse clack. Smells like shit too. It was THIRTY SEVEN CELCIUS degree heat today and i felt a toral of nothing even in my thick school uniform pants, the sweat was dry and flaky. Bodyg(h)urts, everybody is so smart. Thinking outwards, I am sorry for relating. Thinking compulsively, my breakfast today was 40 grapes that I ate in sets of 4 10 times. Dragging myself out and through. I might've ran out of space
Monday 06.23.2025 Renaming June to Heartburn Month. I was convinced it was still May. My eyes burn too. Trying to accept it - there is a reality where I can mold myself like plasticine and have a permanent hand in my hand and let him see and think and speak. Ive read a passage that, in short, explained that it is vaccines that kill your soul, and caught myself thinking it made sense for a minute. I will be flying away for university in a year and my mom has made an effort to look up all crime rates all cults all religious organizations I am sorry mom I know it is embarassing but I am already there I am beyond it all, I am scared of it being a pill-acronym thing it must be inherent. Embarassed every waking hour. Artificial Intellegence Mother. HEARTBURN, UGLY PEOPLE
Today's Music - Fourth of July - Fall Out Boy. I listen to it multiple times a day and for some reason, cannot retain it. Which means that with each listen it is brand new. Most interesting of all, I have definitely listened to it as a child, but it is not in me anymore.
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Wednesday 06.18.2025 Forced myself to sleep. I kept waking up, hot, only able to smell myself, burrowed, thrashing. Writing this over teacherspeek, can't focus: the issues depend on where i am. school-me home-me (family-me and family-home-me) room-me, issues re-arrange with crossing lines and shut doors and what she is and what she thinks and her priorities (talking about the door) are foreign, carrying thoughts in boxes selectively like airport security.
There is consistensy, i do not believe that the school exit morphs me into somebody else, but the performance is ongoing either way and then criticized by each next revisionist. "But that is because I am stupid", i say, talking about the door. And to smuggle a flammable between school exit and door isn't really dangerous, just draining, disruptive. Like smuggling seashells off an island coast (which IS dangerous, just not a thing that may explode the plane, but something that will slowly kill the island coast).
I had a dream tonight about sitting in an airport, checking my bag, realising I forgot my stuffed animal. Starting to cry I was two steps behind myself (thinking here about the phrase "being beside yourself") in shame. That is not how I act! I was then made to not fly with anyone at all. Before waking up i clearly hallucinated, as still and unmoving as one is during sleep paralysis, my dad calling out for my name. It was one in the morning and I didnt wake up until 5, with a loud, LOUD bird outside. I have been reading, watching, understanding things while actively dozing off, just-awake, it makes me part of it as my resetting brain just sticks all that is happening to 'thought', or 'dream', then 'discard'. Ive forced myself to sleep tonight, crawl out.
Today's Music - Pigface - The Best of Pigface. Or any of their other albums. Can't think of a reason why it took me so long to mention them.
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Saturday 06.14.2025 (3AM, so it barely counts) I went to bed around 7AM and woke up an hour past noon. I do not know what I've been doing for those 7 hours, it has escaped me completely, and I am falling into a familiar repetitiveness, no longer motivated with anything. I had exaggerated this time instead of lying, getting both the rest of the week days off with a less than mild cough, despite having told my art teacher I will show up to assist with the art show. In reality, I really couldnt care less. Actually, that was mean, its not like I dont care, I just feel so far beyond anything, I went into the kitchen and it put me back to a year ago, strong smell of mosquito repellent. Lip and nails picked to blood the loom of death disappeared right as ive turned back to the autopilot that was sure to actually drive me to it anyway. It makes sense, but I do not know if I am exhisting like this to make it make sense.
Currently, uncurious, I cannot give you a numerical value that will suddenly explain why was it night June 12-13 I had hit the wall, I wish I could. June is month 6, then 1+2+1+3, then alltogether 13, then 4. "Angel Number 4 is an indication that your angels are offering you love, support, encouragement and inner-strength" - Well, Thank You?
Here's an anecdote: I got a major food poisoning in January this year and for a month could barely eat. It still comes back, sometimes, killing my appetite, but what has messed up the most are my teeth. Ive never had a grasp on tooth brushing, still dont, but after January they feel exceptionally rotten, even if I try my hardest. It is easy to imagine its been like this for years, and only now I process it. There is a reason why I wanted to say this but I cannot articulate it well. Its just been coming out, seemingly, telling me, there you are, dont forget, foul tasting mucus, dont forget
There is somehow 2 more weeks of school and I resign! Doomerism is pointless but I expect to be dragged through them accompanied by the whirr of my joints making their 6th loop around the school just to pace and think and think and think. Ive found articles on how to go 'inside' more. I really want to just go 'inside', as it seems my transmission bears no benefit, and i only let out blinks of broadcast, 'disruptive' more than 'informative'.
Now, here's n interactive hope: I really do not want to have had my text become repetitive, thus, suffocating. This is why im here in the first place: my words are limited and, if displayed, would stimulate shame, causing me to work on it. I hope we are not already there, and there's use to this. I hope we stay curious.
Today's Music - Snow Strippers, again. I need to listen to more of The Books. It felt so magical and I am afraid to listen to it in fears that my habit of running songs down until I am sick of them will ruin how much the album feels like following the neuron trails of a packed city's increasingly reclusive individuals. Not as in, asking people around, but picking top-down branches as someone with way too much power. It feels intrusive to listen to as if it is a published broadcast, but only for a set of specific devotees. It is listenable in private rooms. I need to be listening to more public broadcasts of private rooms full of devotees. Its been some weeks since its gotten too hot to even try to go outside, let alone be approved to. Heres to a looming 18th birthday in a private room. Without a singular devotee, mind you.
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Tuesday 06.10.2025At Riley's request, we watched a polar bear documentary before bed, just as we always read or watch something before bed. Baby bear being handled and held in a 90s televized fake & educational United States of America (DREAMland), unseen envisioned yet people, zoo facility window with unknown visitors filmed, timestamped, dated, baby bear getting flipped on its stomach it looks just like my own. A lot of text condensed: it hurts to not be able to feel him skin to skin. I am volatile, I am reminded, and I am scared, because theres nothing except dust and thought, and the documentary was only watched by a few thousand people, two comments
Both polar bears passed away circa 2013, Klondike and Snow, a few articles, I could barely find it. My own polar bear I can barely find him. Can you remember him for me, please?
Black curls and I cannot focus on his eyes. I can barely find him
Today's Music - Basement Jaxx - Romeo
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Saturday 06.07.2025 (re-written; it was far too long winded. You now get the sanitized retelling:) De-cluttering is certainly A Thing to do, but it's validity as an activity is volatile. It makes sense to spend, like I had today, a total of 3 hours sorting through literal trash because it has gotten inaccessible, but had my sentimentality not breached into hoarding, it would not have been A Thing at all. Coming out, my dad asked why I took a chair out. "To sort my closet," I said. "Is there any trash?"
"Yes."
"Great. I love trash."
I have decided to get my most favorite box of them all, my teddy bear shaped bisquit box, and make it very special. If my journal was a book the box would be the supplementary material. That's how I think about it, which makes the looming threat of having to throw out EVERYTHING (!!!) when I move countries for college in a year much less dreadful.
What kicked it off: I lost my mom's pancake recipe. She could rewrite it, but on this specific note she began to draw out the utensils I will need while telling me about it, and drew an upside-down ladle. Which is special. But nothing can last forever, can it?
Today's Music - The Books - The Way Out. Important listen!!! Very important listen!!!
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Friday 06.06.2025 Early morning/Just-woke-up consider(s): Had 2 dreams. In one I killed a baby and seeing its body did not phase me. In another I had to stab and break glass. Pool again and a large body of water, people kept leaving. A man had a bag with the words, interpreted, "i can tolerate anything, except people not putting my bag where it was!". I dropped his bag and put it somewhere new. Discovered U-shaped nostalgia. It is 2PM, "Early Morning"
Worried primarily about my inability to draw. Good streak-Bad streak, I am afraid it's not consistent enough. I woke up with pus coming out of one of my fingers I barely noticed was infected. Release?
Today's Music - Built to Spill - I Would Hurt a Fly
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Tuesday 06.03.2025 1PM straight outside school entrance doors, Lucid. It took 10 minutes to walk and buy and fully eat an ice cream sandwich. The wrapper didn't get to go back inside, failing to evidence why I even left at all. Nobody checked, though. Needless worry.
Today's Music - Re-listening to MANNERS. Tracy Chapman - Fast Car, Give Me One Reason
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SUNDAY, UrgentlyI was re-editing the pinned post of an account of mine and to my own horror realized I have not tracked the full moon proper for the past two months, even though I have been doing so monthly for 2 years now. The next one is the Strawberry Moon, 11th of June, 11:40AM GMT+4
Friday 05.30.25I shower and shower and shower and I still end up all greasy. I fear it is punishment. I asked my mom to let me not go (lied) to school today as exams are over, I told her I was sick feeling with immediate crushing regret and she sent me back to sleep. Mistaking the slam of her room's door with the exit's (hearing ringing impaired by remorse), i lied in bed for maybe an hour before I realized there hasnt been a second slam, meaning she hasnt come back. Despite checking 'Find My' about a billion times, confirming she's home, I fell asleep to the repeating daydream of her getting hit by a car dead because i had lied. She woke me up a couple hour later asking if i was feeling better. Im showering and showering and im grosser than ive ever been. The days go nowhere
Today's Music - ALRIGHT by KITTY CRAFT. I like the lyrics. I really like the lyrics.
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Wednesday 05.28.2025The 28th! Every few days feel like years and years and years and years and years and I still slept yesterday away and do not remember what I dreamt of.
Writing without processing it on paper first; MAY is a deeply, deeply apathetic month. Or maybe we are halfway apathetic. Tuesday 13th (so close) I had deflated andd released all feelings and now all that matters to me are numbers and mechanics and counts of transactions. I have found myself prophetic on two occasions yesterday; secondary angel number NINE that means SPIRITUAL AWAKENING! also love, but that is irrelevant to my cause. The front of my journal now reads: 21 7 8 9 Apr 16-
I sat in the car with my dad blissful Tuesday and he explained to me that some people are born evil and some are born good. Then they are raised good or evil. Then their environment may make them good or evil. I thought of how he once mentioned that he used to believe I was born evil, but landed on INADEQUATE. "Sometimes you act like an alien that is interacting with people off a handbook and is trying too hard to fit in". "There is nothing wrong with you (agreed, general consensus)
I may be as well morphing into that inadequate back and back again, Im realizing my care is slipping, and I now care more by caring less and calculating where more care is needed. My textbook turned to a spreadsheet. Intrusively; it echoed one day first a photographic image right overlayed a passing child of horrible abuse I counted away, then I have thought I cursed them and my vision is reality. I am maybe biased more about believing this, as again, I HAVE PROVED MYSELF PROPHETIC in miniscule one-offs (everything is possible now), but I still feel like I need to be anxious over it under the assumption that its anxiety I have to feel. Otherwise? Nothing. Spreadsheets.
Side-UNSELF-Note: Mirror(softly) was stressed over an upcoming exam, I sat with her. My spreadsheet says "treat others how you want to be treated" & has done so for a while so I helped her calm down, bought her water, and rubbed her back. A guy came up to another one in my peripheral and, PROPHETICALLY, whispered the f-slur staring right at me. I did not know what I was doing came off that way either. I didnt feel anything. I felt good about taking care of her, I think. If she'd done the same to me I think I'd run away, get terrified, short-circut. I feel good completing tasks. Spreadsheet May
Today's Music - Bondage Fairies' 'Cheap Italian Wine' Album
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Sunday 05.25.2025The 25th! It is 3:16 and I keep getting hit with shivers right in my shoulders over something big that I have missed that is there. Today was an empty-headed day. I would write more about life but I lay on my stomach and I do not remember anything previous. Only that my computer science's teacher's preeschool age daughter handmade stickers for the entire class of 4, which now is proudly stuck on the front of my journal. It says "good job", then her name 3 times larger, and I was the last person she gave one to, despite sitting second closest to where she was drawing. I emit something evil (the common conclusion)
I have spent way too long tonight frying my tired tired brain with videos on cultists, ones made in a more respectful and analytical manner than flashy deep-voice narrativised dramatizations (while we're at it, go look up Tor's Cabinet of Curiosities on YouTube. I am in love!) and I wonder sometimes, when I come back to my own esoteric spirituality, so perfectly put up on shelves of uncommon sense, how much do I actually need to be forgiven for. These people lie, they follow lies... in this case you would probably orient on how right it feels to YOU. Which in my case is a bulletproof pin-down that can be justified with any and all text. This is not to relate myself to a cultist, but someone who finds herself unmodernistically devoted to following some myth about my own unique being, thatis unique enough to not be mentioned in modern psychiatry or tagged on tumblr dot com, but not special enough to be the center-of-the-earth singular prophet of the newly odd phenomena I am experiencing. Lucidly(!), I am not even that weird, it is only that the weird parts get weirder than there is space for. I think my brain is beyond my head today and it is thinly glazing every surface. I really wish to go to bed.
----> actually, maybe thursday, maybe friday, some-evening, Do you think your stuffed animals feel your thoughts? I have sworn off touching any because I emit something evil (the logical end). In an act of desperation (still searching for the fictionalized 'mother'; i have not yet ventured beyond the common derivatives such as toys; maybe one day i'll have a film crew in front of my house as i proclaim to be comforted by microwave ovens; or similar) o did turn to hold one, and i felt HATE i felt HATE from her. i whispered sorry and i do not know what for because really i was just holding a toy but she HATED me. It was weird. it was really really weird. Goodnight! Goodnight.
Today's Music - Antlers - Putting the Dog to Sleep. Mike quite likes this one. Inner back of head I can act as a speaker, buzzing and purring quietly enough not to disturb anyone. I have been too severed from everyone I hear. Tonight;Tomorrow;Night; Family time. My family time.
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Tuesday 05.20.2025The 20th! I am petrified. I slept so deep tonight I remember waking up, thinking I have sunk fully into my mattress, dazed, unable to see. I've been sleeping (SKIPPING) class, sneaking out of school, wasting hours around MIRROR around MIRROR. I ended today shaking&petrified, it felt like a bad omen. I'm happy, yes, I AM GUILTY of happiness, (as opposed to; giving myself up to slump forever and ever and ever, wasting time, unjustified), but I had to give up a separate 20 minutes to go into a desolate room and wiggle a fidget and count to 4 and dream and dream and dream SHE! will see all this distress. Now I am not a victim for her I just wish for the impossible and I have done so always. Bought a new item for a stupid $5 dollars&was not there to try it. Ecstatic.
Today's Music - Nothing new, actually. Deftones - Knife Prty
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Friday same week
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The chocolate itself tasted rotten. I saved the surprise egg for Riley. The toy wasn't anything to write home about, but he was excited. Thank you mom. I love you too
Today's Music - I looked up '2016' on soundcloud and clicked on titles I recognized, then looked through the pop albums on Apple Music for 2013-2014. I realized I do not know what music my mom likes now, and the last of it I heard back when she admitted to downloading a lot of Bjork.
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Same Tuesday Update: I bled through, and I bled through my underwear also. Not a lot, and it is hideable, but I do not have a spare uniform right now that would allow me to not have to walk around like I just slipped out of the birth canal. Rusty all exactly at the waist. MIRROR annoys me in a very 14-year-old way, as in, she joked about how she wanted me to leave and stop talking to her and so I simply did. Angered with/about/by her I crossed 800m to the park in 10 minutes, mindlessly rushing myself under 40 degree celcius weather, and gone to the park swings. The seat was so hot it burned me from behind, to which I poured water on it, and wiped it with my sweater. My sweater began smelling of maybe weeks' worth of human sweat, but at least the seat didn't burn anymore. I lasted a total of 15 minutes until it got too hot, and by the time I was back near school, I felt like throwing up, but entirely unconcerned. There was nothing except some weird violence that I feel like has not grown, but artificially expanded to make me think like every jealous other. Yet again, I napped almost all of the evening away. I want to read something and feel smarter than I am again.
Tuesday 05.13.2025 I've gone out of the rut. I relapsed, took a nap of about 5 hours, then didn't feel a single thing again. All anxiety left me, evaporated somewhere with not as little as a hiss, today I feel cast of thin rusty blackened metal and i ring when tapped with a spoon. I am a table-top, on-shelf, holiday ornament.
Despite my nap, i have allowed myself another maybe hour of sleep right before it was time to head to school. I had a dream that felt entirely too manifested. I woke up with cold legs and put on my white button-up shirt, and now every step I am threatened to burst and spill red, naked, and put on my sweater, undress for someone -> titillation |. I don't hurt my arms or legs, I go for my stomach, as I value short-sleeves and short shorts too much. I haven't done so in almost a year and it felt like filming an adult tape. Mike was not happy.
Tuesday: I feel control. Tuesday is a day I only have two lessons on out of the entire 6 hours I'm here, and the rest of it will have to be spent fighting my eyelids closing shut forever. I want to loop around now that I can.
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Saturday 05.10.2025Quite a dull day. Went to the library, but left early, because my brother was getting bored. Evening, listened to a few feminist lectures my mom sent me. I thought very little, but felt a lot.
Reading today felt like sitting in a classroom zoned out. It was there, in front of me, and despite not having a lot of linguistic struggle, I had to forcibly push and re-push every thread of thought to see what was said. My brain is CLOGGED. That's what I was getting at.
I do not like to dwell on 'everything is empty', because otherwise, pulling out the reasons, everything will empty even more, but i am overcome with a very neutral envy, where my feeling is misaligned with my logical conclusions. Who are you behind closed doors is a perfectly normal self to have, a self that is formed by bouncing off the small circle you so gracefully invited into your room, but my room is quite empty, and i feel like a see-through window on more days than not. Elsewise, I do not care for being a roomless window. I don't have to spend money on a couch, for example. I can scribble on the walls, and then daydream that one day it will be dug up and - oh terror! - everyone will be overcome with untimely concern. How come it's so dusty? Well, i didnt buy a couch. not furniture, even. It isnt welcoming now and it never was.
I didn't buy a couch, actually, I bought a crib. Once I was watching a video discussing "My Strange Addiction", which, I know is not a very kind thing to be listening to other people re-contextualize something for me instead of using my head, but i also wasn't listening much either, so everything was disregarded for me to just use my laptop as a 'yes' to the continous churn of re-chewing. Did you like my excuse? One episode, one man, "my mother wasn't close to me, wasn't very present". Obsessed with inflatable pool toys, not in a sexual manner. And, as much as my mom isn't dead or much abusive, she wasn't close to me, nor was very present, but my object of desire is much more EMBARASSING! and shameful. Not shameful enough to not clown myself out on a webpage, but shameful enough to re-evaluate constantly. Because, as logical as it would be for a psychologically motherless person to cling to infantile paraphernalia, its not something i can even access that easily. It briefly glazes my mind whenever I reboot, in the kind of perverse detail characteristic of a depraved touchless webpage-only existing dweller, not having a bone in me that treats it sexually, but gets as close to intimate with the idea of warm glass/chest/fed that it feels like it is. I fly out. Almost every night, against my will, one same phrase circles in my head, "MOMMY LOVES YOU". And it's just there. And it feels stupid. And it feels stupid that the only way to feel anything is to be half-asleep with a looping vinyl to plastically tell me "LOVE YOU", until eventually i hear a loud screech&bang&shatter and all that is behind my eyelids is a distorted face, as if to punish me for not devoting my life completely to pointless roleplay.
There's a lot to think about. I've never had a crush on anyone on TV, but I wanted to be their mom. The oldest i'd gotten at was 6, got stuck, shattered, dissilusioned. It feels much more appropriate to confess that at very 8 i dreamt of my classroom being an underground porn studio of deviantart-level cartoonishness, then it ever will be that all my nightmares ever were were cetered around my mom having another child. Replacement, maybe? Children I hear do not react well to being left alone either, and it worries me to be so thinly spread across. I wish I didnt find comfort in what i do. I wish it wouldve been a much more unique attatchment to metal or airplane. I passed a children's store today and felt so sick, as always. -> Would you read that? Page after page of MOTHER?
Today's Music - SNOW STRIPPERS! Time Warp Angels. Also, Poor You by Daniel Johnston. And, please read Sunflower Sutra by Allen Ginsberg.
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Tuesday 05.06.2025 Went outside again today, which isn't common for me to do, not because I dislike doing so, but because I am told 'no' most of the times I ask. Fed stray cats, I always do. Only 3 today, - one in front of a store, and then two regulars in the park. They have collars. They like the new treats much more than they liked the last ones. Meow! Meow! I speak to them so loudly back and my 'kitty' mumbles into a 'kirry'. I've always 'chewed', 'swallowed' my words. I spit them out into your hand now to watch what you do. It's a new thing! It's performance art.
I used to believe my (self-proclaimed) synesthesia only happened with GIFs. I'd hear the same sound over and over and over as it moves, sometimes very unpleasant sounds. It would bounce against the walls of me inside as if trying to echolocate something, met with bristle response. Now that I open my eyes, I can look at lines and hear chitter. I can see a shape and I can sense a movement that ripples through the entirety of me and hits a specific spot. I don't know how many artists considered people like me who will see colors in their lines and hear sounds in their colors. I'm stuck on formulating this, but it feels |complete| to have this LENS. It feels intriguing when it doesn't.
There's a girl in my class that is my only friend, very loosely so. I, admittedly, will consider you a friend even if we last spoke a year ago, and never since, and maybe I've even been avoiding you, but thinking of you on the side. SATURDAY 04.26.2025 I dreamt of her twice at that point. She's heard things I'm scared to tell anyone else. Why? Because she is a mirror. We speak to each other and I hear myself. beat-for-beat; I ended up weirder, and she counts calories. It's a little silly to find a person that is so YOU this much more important over anyone else, but I spoke to her once, and she told me she's over it. Everything WE have ever been through, she's over it. I spoke to a mirror and it said 'I'm over it', and suddenly, I realized I'm over it too. I suddenly realized I'm over it too and today that I am re-born* she is back here again. She told me, one evening, it was the most fun she's had in years. I'll think about it. I don't want to know if she's over that too.
I've spoken about this before (DELETED/NEVER PUT DOWN/PRIVATELY MULLED OVER), but, as much as we are who we love, I love very little, so I am a collection of a few jagged brush strokes, and could probably be punished for plagiarism. I re-read this page and I feel holes. Fill holes! I fill holes. I'll ask again: which color am I on your skin, what pattern? Where?
This is quite long, but that is what I get for not posting for a whole entire 3 days. I've lost my ability to write on paper like I used to and I have switched the color of my pen to yellow, a rather unique color that is not often used for writing.
Tuesday 05.06.2025I feel LATENT, which I completely missed the definition of and presumed it by mouthfeel to be quite gooey |latex| stretched out and diagramed, but the (paraphrased) definition of existing but not yet materialized fits me quite well. I meant to say cast; I am homogenous today. I've dried and they peeled me out. I am a deep light pinky purple, or baby blue.
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Side-Self-S-S-S-Note (STARRED): Inside me, I've been re-born too. Two days I was stuck in Gusher's 'womb', and today I've been let out completely after metamorphosis. For a brief while I was 11 years old and I felt scared. Now, my entire bottom half jitters and everyone stares at me weird. I haven't spoken to Riley in a bit. I want to kiss his head over and over.
Today's Music - Sparklehorse's Saturday, Adrianne Lenker's womb, Hop Along's Diamond Mine. While we're here, listen to Adrianne Lenker's blue and red horses.
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Friday 05.02.2025 More tips: stop looking inwards. Or you'll never ever be able to describe anything except your innards, which are not very interesting, and frankly, many of us have innards. A lot of them. Tuesday has been devastating and so is Friday as I seem to have been affected by thought patterns in a way where they become solid and lodge themselves between the back of my skull and the back of my brain so it feels heavy, and then it shoots the same breath-catching demands every time I am not preoccupied with something else. I am not looking forward towards the weekend because my mind is clogged with FLYERS. FLyers that lie about every single given thing
More tips: decrease "I"/"Me" language. Very good tip. Very good tip especially when the I/Me is a puzzle that you just must update everyone on how far you've sold it. Latest developments include reading archives of spiritual websites because, less-lucidly, it is of course posession. "There may be the attractive temptation, rather than integrate these and remain consistent in their life committments, to separate themselves from their difficult earth experiences and accompanying circumstances and persons, as belonging to someone else's life." - Jody Boyne
Today's Music - The Year 13's last day. They were blasting their own music. Just a few meters away, the upper floor cafeteria stand was playing something else too. Result: Cacophony!
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Tuesday 04.29.2025 I worry! I worry a lot. Here's a tip: everything exists to be able to weigh something else against it, which justifies everything that exists. This is often applied to art&related, but you can tell ypurself that whenever. Even for bad things. Even if you do something badly or wrong, someone else gets too see it and think, "i can do better than that". And work on themselves. "I can do better than that" have this ever crossed your mind? I'll be down here, kicking ball once you get better.
3-day art exam, two days in. I do not have enough detail in my work to justify 15 hours, so I've been drawing people around me. I am quite surprised at myself&my arm&my hand; drawing is particularly fun when it feels like a puzzle, even if the rigidness defeats the whole entire purpose of marking paper at all. I'll scan them, sometime. The scanner we have does not wish to accommodate the light pencil strokes&erases them completely.
One day I'll let you in. Diagram my findings (all split in 3s). Are you excited? Something is being done, finally. Journal note: "Leg fell asleep! two minutes. How much use is this to anybody"
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Side-Self-S-S-S-Note: inside vision replaced by a child's. Filling an all-about-me worksheet produced nothing at all! Not even a name. Everybody is annoyed
Today's Music - You're not allowed headphones during examination periods
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Saturday 04.26.2025Yesterday's note: Slept through midday, again, and noticed a pattern, it's the 3rd time I've dreamed of someone being so close I can feel&remember the feel of their skin. None of them I've had the opportunity to do so with, until now. It's good.
my hands do not listen to me much anymore today and something is severely wrong somewhere where it shouldn't be. Nothing that I want to say translates; paper text mind I am scared. I can still talk but it is exhausting. I have never been this hungry
Today's Music - Passion Pit still. I need to listen to new music but I do not seem to ever have the time to give myself up fully to pay mind to a new album.
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Wednesday 04.23.2025 Bought an easter cookie on my walk that was shaped like a freshly hatched chick and ate it head first at the edge of a highway and thought it was way too sweet and honestly I mostly bought it for the sticker anyway
My phone fell and the screen now has a strain of green lined across right edge. Sad, because I've only had to lose a phone twice in my life. One just stopped turning on, and one I passed down to earn this one. It's a sad goodbye, because I feel like I had not given this one much justice. My dad ran down its battery and its phone case is yellowing despite being a solid color. It looks sad. I'd wish it was more ceremonious, a final unresponsive (SLEEK) black screen one day, but that's a selfish desire. As much as the lines are annoying and as run down as it is it's inhumane to assume that every passing will be convenient. It strains my eyes and it looks sad because I look at it, and I see something that is to be rejected, that does nothing BUT strain my eyes, which that would obviously be sad if it were to be rejected, especially for something as trivial as that. The good thing to do here is to not make it feel rejected. It's done well for what it was, it's done really well. I'll miss you
Today's Music - took a nap and dreamed of two people loving each other and woke up startled by dinner
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Tuesday 04.22.2025Thinking about sincerity this morning. Thinking about how to put the text down in a prettier way. I'm thinking about how on the weekend i drew only for myself for once and it resulted in a large stain of PEN on my bed and it is glaringly BAD and it is here for me to draw conclusions. Going from homeschool to somewhere physical I would pass people in the corridor and i could not even say hi. i couldnt smile and the entire school is burned into my retinas as it was for that singular iteration, which was a fuzzy yellowish lens flare. I have felt frustration only. I have been accused of acting aggressively when that wasnt me at all, and it scared me so much to be walking along the corridors unclean, mouthbreathing, fidgeting, that i gave up my lucidity. i let myself sleep-walk. Devoid of any feeling at all except an exploited addictive rush i SLEPT. &I come back &i know how to smile and how to keep my mouth shut but wake-wise i am "15". Which is very disorienting
If this page was truly anything of mine i'd probably be telling you that the stairs to the 3rd school floor total to 48, to my apartment total to 40, the largest crosswalk from home to school is 30 lines (both ways!) and the most common sidewalk line counts on that route are 5 and 7. When my head is empty i think of mothers and imagine mothers and it lines the cranium walls so i cant particularly leave the idea of 'mother'. Would you read that? Page after page of MOTHER? In disambiguation? I'll get scared
THIS IS A PAGE FOR INSINCERE, NO-GOOD , SELFISH ASS HOLES! WELCOME
Today's Music - i am not allowed to use my ears
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Monday 04.21.2025Waking up thirsty. My breath is thick enough to leave a burning residue somewhere very low in the center of the suddenly living body. I do not understand how I dealt with this daily every morning for 2 years "15"-"16". I did exams like that! With something down there drawing all wetness from my lips! Waking up anxious. I am a bad mother.
Hibernated over the weekend, but this time felt shame. Catching up! Late bloomer. By 2 years exactly, if I were to search for numbers. Thank you for waking me up.
Today's Music - SEAWEED SONG BY PASSION PIT / LITTLE SECRETS BY PASSION PIT, but that was yesterday.
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Friday 04.18.2025Compared to yesterday's new and eye-opening GROUNDING SERENITY of it all, today I must've bounced right back up, launched, and only orbited my own judgement. I am away! Out! I'm somewhere much more emptier; in that orbit, as it often happens with long distances, I have breezed over four-fold over the amount I would've breezed over usually. Conclusion: Do not waste days&do not launch yourself MILES.
Today's Music - MOTH'S WINGS BY PASSION PIT. %Finished reading 17776 (relevant)
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Thursday 04.17.2025 Excerpt from journal, edited: "I [WAS] asleep and I will force myself to wake up. [YOU HAVE TO BE] that moment after waking up when you are forced on thoughts that are unique. I have not dreamed but I am unique."
--- It is 9 in the morning and I feel an overwhelm. So much! I'm breaking. It's a good sensation to be breaking.
Today's Music - SLEEPYHEAD BY PASSION PIT / SLEEPYHEAD BY PASSION PIT / SLEEPYHEAD BY PASSION PIT / The "Manners" Album. / AS OF 9:20AM, SWIMMING IN THE FLOOD BY PASSION PIT
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