an awkwardly-shaped love

Currently soft launching my disappearance

I have the deepest affection for intellectual conversations.. About love, about life, about anything, about everything. To sit under the moon with all the time in the world, the full-speed train that is our lives slowing to a crawl. Bound by no obligations, barred by no human limitations. To speak without regret or fear of consequence. To talk for hours. To understand. To empathise. To agree. To debate. To enlighten and be enlightened. To be chilled. To be watered. To be warmed. To be changed.

accidentally got stuck in a compulsive thought loop instead of living any sort of life

refusing to apply first aid to the wound because "it shouldn't have happened in the first place, so what we really should be doing is making sure no one gets stabbed ever again"

your insistence on bandaging this wound is ultimately just you running interference for all the stabbers of the world and that's honestly really shitty of you

there is so much love in patience. so much love in listening.

one cool thing about having an autistic dad whose special interest is underwater spearfishing is that when he catches fish he'll just call up a nearby chinese restaurant like "hi. i caught a fish. can you cook it and i'll bring my family by?" and they're like "yeah sure come on over white boy" and the fish is delicious.

it's worth adding that my mom is chinese and she always gets embarrassed by this. like she doesn't want to come to the restaurant with us. she doesn't want to be seen with the white man she caught plus the fish that her white man caught. everyone who works at the restaurant thinks my dad is awesome and compliments him + her for choosing him and we all find this very fun except for her.

Thinking of succumbing to something later

she res on my urrection till i come. (back. (from the dead))

I’m gonna kill (remembers suicide jokes are bad for my mental health) someone else (remembers murder is bad) on accident (realizes it’s not an accident if I say I’m gonna do it) and I know because I’m from the future (remembers lying is bad) no I’m not (feels guilty) I’m so so sorry (remembers actions speak louder than words) (does a backflip)

Happy me and my saw Saturday Friday

Babysitting a toddler is a lot like being the narration in a point-and-click adventure game. Watching him knock on the doors of empty rooms and saying "hmm. I don't think anyone's in there". Watching him attempt to use [spoon] on [cat] and saying "I don't think those things go together". Watching him throw a cup of water onto the floor and just commenting "the floor is wet now" when he looks up at me to see if I approve.

Getting high on open window air