JNJ-53718678

Avacada, 2017

I have a little plant that I have grown from a pup. In my more melodramatic moments I see him as representative of my current state of mind and that if he died I might die too. The other night all his leaves drooped down and I thought he was sick but it turns out he was just sleeping. Sometimes I take him out for walks by putting him on the windowsill when it’s windy so he can grow big and strong. 

Good cunt. 

HATE, late 16

Reading back on this shit from before the Quarantine Files has been bittersweet. Above is a photograph from Australia in which, despite the sentiment, I can only imagine I was full of positive vibes. The 16-17 months since my release (and last post) have included, but are not limited to - an unforgettable but hazy emigration attempt - the acquisition and subsequent rapid loss of probably around 5 jobs - multiple relocations - a body-numbing continuation of this swings and roundabouts patter that this glorious existence seems to consist of

Fuck the details. Many of them have sunk to the depths of time - weeks have been blending into months for what seems like years. 

So in a feeble attempt to claw some sanity back from the cliff’s edge and in a bid to regain some sort of creativity/clarity/positivity (the triumvirate) I have decided to at least try and use this platform as an outlet - however sporadic. 

Even just to regather some semblance of meaning for myself. 

What the fuck do I even care about? Where have I gone? How can I be in my own head so selfishly every waking (and sleeping actually) second and still be in the dark? How is that possible? When does this stop?